#im going to write tons of fics for him

[karasu4life]

Man I love my snookers, my cutie pie, my cinnamonroll covered in frosting, blue glazing and fading in light purple. I love my man, my pookers, the love of my life, my everything, I love Tabito more than my life.

God, loved him since I saw him for the first time. I love you Karasu, I've read every single one of his fanfictions (shout-out to Five ways to kill a Crow), I've analyzed him more than four times in my mind when I was bored in class, I've never been more delusional. I absolutely adore him, I absolutely want him.

I've watched every single episode of the second season since he's been animated, I have screenshoted EVERY SINGLE FRAME he's in, I don't care if he looks ugly, I don't care. I've read Hiori's light novel and Nagi's episode more than ten times because bro, HE'S THERE.

I'm not just a horny someone, my feelings are genuine for him. When I am a poor old woman in the future, my last words will be "I love you, Karasu Tabito".

Y'know what hell yeah

Fuck I even made an oc x canon. He's going to be the death of me

[boatboysrowout]

my dear friend is distressed about the lack of martyn fics so although i am not clever enough to write martyn inthelittlewood i can offer you some situations i propose he be put in:

- overworked volunteer at an animal shelter. his favorite animal is a giant german shepherd named ren who never leaves him alone. his least favorite animal is a bird named grian who does nothing but imitate human screams and bite.

- amateur comedian. he does stand up every tuesday night and the instant he gets heckled he gets super defensive and starts saying shit like ‘you people don’t understand true comedy’ and ‘you’re just jealous you’re not on my level’ and ‘ren said i’m hilarious screw all of you’

- firefighter. he spends 90% of his shifts chasing down and extinguishing a very handsome man who has the unfortunate habit of setting himself on fire to prove his passion. no one asks him to do this. martyn is very distressed by this. etho and bdubs think it is hysterical that martyn hasnt noticed this only ever happens while he’s on duty.

- renaissance fair employee. i think its obvious where im going with this so instead of the obvious he gets way too into the roleplay and almost commits first degree murder bc someone cut in front of ren in line to get a funnel cake ill talk instead about how there’s a pirate themed booth for some reason at the renaissance fair and martyn hates it bc of the historical inaccuracy and also bc he is convinced joel and etho set his and ren’s tent on fire on purpose.

- burger king employee. there is a mcdonalds across the street and they hate each other’s guts. one day grian breaks in while scar is distracting ren and martyn and smashes their ice cream machine with a baseball bat bc martyn made one too many jokes about their ice cream machine always being broken. martyn’s manager ren takes this personally, dubs himself the burger king, puts on the shitty cardboard crown and declares war on the mcdonalds. by the end of the week every single employee of the burger king and the mcdonalds have been fired and their story is featured on national news.

update: that last one is now written. you’re welcome/i’m so sorry

[blkkizzat]

not tryna stir tha pot im lost. but headcanoning and writing characters as otakus isn’t an original idea. there were multiple otaku gojo fanfics before yours (saw multiple last year on ao3, plus twitter fanfics) so you can’t lay claim to otaku gojo. again not tryna start shit but im jus confused.

baby idk why ur lost. its canon so idc if people want to write him as a nerd/otaku who likes digimon, HE IS LOL!

the issue is when they take specific lines or multiple details/storylines from my fic where its obvious i can tell they read my fic. or they just straight up steal my fic word for word to make a bot which i have the dmca reports and screenshots to prove. for the most recent one, on a completely different platform, the botmaker literally said it was a request and the request all had details and direct lines from my fic— and the gag is i didnt even find this bot myself, someone brought it to my attention because they thought my fic was being taken again.

ironically enough though, i actually searched pretty hard on tumblr and ao3 before i started writing the idea because even then i thought it wasn't original (and still don't tbh). honestly almost didn't write it cause i was sure it was an idea that was probably well used lol. i've never read a ton of gojo fics (i literally say i dont even fuck with that man like that dhebjahbd) so i wasn't sure what was out there in regards to fics with him being a huge pervert otaku obsessed with digimon, etc, etc. but even now i cant find any on ao3 or twitter so please link me to all these multiple mysterious fanfics that i somehow missed lol. im genuinely curious if ur being for real or are just full of shit lol.

[luvuomi]

fatui zuha with mentor balladeer is slowly becoming my favorite thing to write hehe

[hum--hallelujah]

it's Crab who does the saving. of course it is, the nurse, the silent, confident, so very calm one of them. the one who loves Benzedrine more than he could ever speak. of course it is. but he's not calm, and he's not confident. he is not the doctor. he's not meant to be. he's always been meant to be the support. that's where he thrives, where he was born to be. of course he would be the nurse. his heart is pounding and he's breathing fast, too fast, and sweating, he can feel it. he's terrified that he's wrong, that he's going to be wrong, that he's going to do something wrong and kill Benze instead of save him. he can't get the moment out of his head. the split second, not ten minutes ago, walking into the station and Benze on a chair, slumped over the table, unresponsive. he thinks his heart stopped, but it's beating too hard for asystole right now. he knows diagnostics. Benze taught him this. he knows what an overdose looks like not because of books the way Benze learned it but because he's seen it happen before. not often, but when partiers in the Zones get their hands on City drugs, they're prone to taking it too far. this isn't party drugs, though. that isn't Benze. the bottle on the table, empty but for a drop, reads morphine. Crab thinks of this morning, before they'd left for the track. Benze had been down, and hard, with a headache. he said it was normal. he said it was fine. but he hid under a blanket and groaned whenever Sandman or Donnie talked too loud. he'd been in pain. how long has this been happening? how bad has it gotten to warrant this? how desperate must he have been the first time to stop the pain? how hadn't Crab known? he'd sat on the edge of the bed before leaving and kissed Benzedrine's temple. he's morbidly glad for that. fatalistic, but if that's the last interaction they'll ever have had, at least it was that. his hands are shaking when he signs at Sandman and Donnie, either or, whoever has more presence of mind, to find- he doesn't have the time to fingerspell it. Benze's lips are turning blue. he's not responding to- the word is stimuli. the sign is a mimicry of poking someone. so it's Crab who retrieves the medicine, of course it is, of course it's Crab. this vial is labeled kloxxado. Benze called it naloxone when he found it in their inventory the first time. Crab's hands are shaking as he preps a new injection. most things work fastest intravenously. the blood does it. the heart does it. his heart is thumping out of control. his heart is beating just to keep Benze's the same. his best friend doesn't even respond when he sticks the needle into his arm. Benze might be the one who’s dying (he can’t die, Crab won’t let him, of course he won’t, he can’t-) but Crab thinks maybe he’s only alive for Benze. like maybe if Benze dies he will too. like maybe the only thing keeping his heart beating is the fluttering pulse he can feel as he holds onto Benze’s wrist. he feels like he’s gonna pass out but he does all the right things, keeps his best friend alive despite himself because of course he does. he’s the caregiver. he’s the nurse. his heart is beating for this. (his heart is beating for Benze)

[sga-owns-my-soul]

just gonna make myself sad real quick by thinking of how bad rodney's guilt would've been if the solar system he blew up was inhabited with people

[waywardsalt]

deciding to write bellum in a context beyond and different from what he's shown in in ph is kinda. something. because there's not a whole lot to him and there seems to be an intense focus on having things be 'in character' so it creates the interesting dilemma of. what even is 'in character' for bellum in the first place and are the conclusions i draw about him based off the little bit we get in game things that can be considered 'in character' or w/e, or is (almost) anything fair game since i'm working off of a list of concepts and actions rather than an actual written character

[azlrse]

Cuddle headcannons of malleus and idia please 👉👈

➳ cuddlebug (malleus draconia/idia shroud x gn!reader; separate)

cw: kinda short cause still on writer's block, characters might be ooc, overall fluff

a/n: my freshmen year in pharmacy school has ended like weeks ago (yayy!! and had really good grades ngll) and had lots of time to write sum fics for you guys ^^

malleus draconia 🐉

i feel like malleus himself would be the first one to initiate into cuddling you just because he's curious on how warm you were comparing to him. bro's really curious since in his culture and heritage, mothers would initially cuddle their egg/babies and giving them with love. malleus, however was deprived with this opportunity since his mother is barely present when he hatched from his egg.

at first, your boyfriend is slightly nervous when asking you this question since the two of you are dating for at least 5 months. you just looked at him and said, "why are you asking this question? you know I'm really comfortable with you cuddling me. im just waiting for you to cuddle with me." as you extended your arms in front of him.

malleus just went 🥺 and 🥰 as he picked you from the floor and proceeded to lay the both of you into his bed, making you shocked from the sudden action but quickly relaxed as soon as you felt his head being placed on the crook of your neck. malleus loves it when your hands are caressing his face as he stared at you with adoration and hearts in his eyes and tends to kiss your hand while your hand are being cupped to his cheek.

most of the time, he's the big spoon in terms of cuddling but if he's the one having a really bad day, he's the one laying on your chest being the little spoon. malleus would also love the cradle position and the half spoon since he loves holding you on his arms.

idia shroud 💠

you're going to be the one who would proposed the idea on the subject of cuddling with him because this guy, won't be the one to initiate cuddling cause he would die of shame asking you to cuddle so good luck with him (even tho i loved him sm).

even though idia loves you (like a ton), he's gonna wait for you to ask him if you would like to cuddle with him. bro's not the type to make the move first aside from asking you out (thanks to ortho's reassurance that you liked him back)

he's also not used into physical touch so you better be patient with him, it may start with his head on your shoulder and escalated into hugging you from behind as you lay down on his bed. idia would love it if one of your leg in placed on his thigh when he plays something on his computer/console.

idia's concern regarding cuddling you is his hair but you quickly reassured him that you loved his hair so much on how comfortably warm it is in his air-conditioned room. he would whine if you are not touching his hair if the both of you are cuddling together (only you and ortho since he is really uncomfortable on others touching him, including his long hair).

probably he dreams on having you on his lap when he plays a game or just relaxing with you while talking about his interests and kisses your face while holding you (he's quite shy on kissing your lips yet hehe)

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[dilf-docs]

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)

word count: 6,102 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)

side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3

So it started something like this.

It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.

Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.

He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.

The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.

Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.

He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.

Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.

Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.

"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.

"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.

He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.

"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.

"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".

"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.

"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"

The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.

When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.

His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.

He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.

"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.

The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?

God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.

He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.

"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.

There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.

The whole situation is stupid.

But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.

"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.

You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.

That's how it continued.

Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.

"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".

He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.

Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.

Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.

He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.

So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.

"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.

There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.

"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".

If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.

Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.

You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.

"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".

He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:

"I could wait for you"

He surprises himself and surprises you too.

"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".

Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.

"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"

"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".

He smiles unconsciously in relief.

"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.

But you don't.

The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold. 

He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.

He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.

She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.

"Need'a ride?"

Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.

"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".

I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.

I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.

He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"

"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"

Do you really want to do this?

The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.

You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."

Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.

"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."

That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.

"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.

You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".

"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".

He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.

"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".

It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.

"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".

"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.

You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.

"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.

"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?

"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"

"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.

Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"

His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"

"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.

"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.

So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.

"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.

Your face shows surprise and something else.

"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.

"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.

You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."

"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.

You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.

"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."

And this is how it ends.

When you wake up, it's almost dawn.

Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.

Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.

When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.

"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.

"Good morning" he answers instead.

You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.

"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.

Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"

"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.

Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.

“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”

After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.

“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.

Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.

“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.

“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".

“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.

Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.

"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".

You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.

What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?

"S'rry for the wait"

You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.

"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"

You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.

"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"

He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.

"What do you want us to do?"

His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.

"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"

You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.

"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.

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

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

If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.

"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"

Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.

"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.

He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.

His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.

His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.

“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”

You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.

The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.

"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."

His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.

"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"

He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.

But maybe he likes pain.

"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".

You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.

“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”

The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.

You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.

“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.

“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.

“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.

Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.

"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"

You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.

"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.

Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.

He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.

"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"

You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.

Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?

He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.

"I want to see them on you"

He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.

"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”

His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.

“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”

He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.

In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.

“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.

Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.

There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.

He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.

His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.

It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:

Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.

“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”

You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.

Dependency.

Devotion. Absolute. Sick.

Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.

"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"

He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.

So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.

"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.

You're still here.

"Logan" you call again, more firmly.

"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".

When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.

"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"

For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.

"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"

"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.

"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".

"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."

"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".

Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.

But maybe you are the answer.

Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”

That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.

[livelaughloveluffy]

imagine luffy confessing his admiration and love for you after seeing each other after 2 years, before being separated the two of you were becoming more intimate with each other and seeking one another out during downtimes cuddling, holding hands, or just wanting the comfort of one another

confession - monkey d. luffy

a/n: thank you for the ask!!! it literally came at the perfect time!! i was planning on writing a confession series with the boys and i love your addition to the prompt!! since you specifically said two years, i think you know exactly where i'm going with this, so luffy's confession will take place post-time skip!! these will definitely be longer fics, but know that there will definitely be similar fics in the future!

a/n: i did proof-read, however it was more like proof-skimmed if im being honest

enies lobby // paramount war spoilers under the cut!!!

ngl, there's a little bit hurt here... but there is also plenty of comfort and fluff to make up for it 😭💀

---------------------------------------------------------------------

the first thing you learned about your captain was that he has zero concept of personal space. this wasn't something that particularly bothered you.. however it was definitely an adjustment from what you were used to.

as one of first few members to join the straw hat pirates, you and luffy had lots of time with just the two of you, giving you more than your fair share of opportunities to get to know each other. the captain really enjoyed your presence, as you seemed to just get him. it was one of the many reasons he asked you to join his crew in the first place. but in actuality, he was always drawn to you from the second he first saw you.

something about the way you carried yourself, so elegantly but so sure of yourself, even in combat you were a wonder to his eyes. when he finally got a chance to talk to you, he suddenly just had this overwhelming feeling that he couldn't imagine a life without you in it.

many days and night on the going merry were spent making sharing jokes and obnoxiously laughing at them, sneaking way too many snacks from the kitchen until sanji caught you both, and tons of crazy and fun adventures were shared together.

the countless times luffy would run up to you with a huge smile on his face, grabbing your hand in his, exclaiming "you have to see this!! come on!!" before he would whisk you away to some small silly shenanigan of his was a frequent occurrence, but one that you had become to enjoy dearly.

the second his fingers interlocked around yours, everything just felt better, even for just a second. and you could've sworn he felt it too. he'd smile just a bit wider, laugh a bit louder, and pull you a little bit closer.

•♡•

it wasn't until the shock of losing robin and breaking into enies lobby to rescue her that had finally bonded you two even closer than you already were. watching luffy being unable to move after defeating rob lucci had to be one to the scariest moments of your life.

it wasn't until the whole crew was back together on a new ship ready to conquer your next adventure, that you finally got some alone time with luffy. you and chopper had to beg him to rest and recover from his injuries. but he only agreed to do so if you kept him company.

"lu, are you awake?" you whispered, walking into the dark shared boys room, finding luffy laying down on his cot. "chopper said it's time to take your meds, so i brought them for you."

a tired and groggy luffy rolled over to greet you, taking a seat at the edge of his cot, you smoothed down his crazy bed-head before handing him is meds. "do i have to take them?" he pleaded, eyes wide in hopes he could make you pity him enough to say no. "i'll get sanji to make you an extra dessert if you do" with that being said, he took his meds without any more hesitation or fussing.

you began standing up from his cot, ready to sweet-talk your way to a special dessert made my sanji (he didn't need to know who it was really for anyways), when luffy grabbed your hand stopping you in your tracks. "where are you going? i thought you'd stay here with me?"

"i was just going to get sanji to start on-" but before you could finish your sentence, your captain pulled you into his arms and cot. "i don't want you to leave yet.." he said, whining with his face buried in the crook of your neck "stay for a little bit longer.."

who were you to disobey the captain's orders?

•♡•

cuddling with your captain was truly a special event. it wasn't nearly as common as you had hoped, since luffy often refuses to sit still long enough for it to happen.

warm rubber limbs wrapped two times too many around your body, his soft dark brown hair tickling your cheek as he buried his face in your neck and shoulder. luffy smelled like the ocean breeze, sweat, and sunshine (which sounds crazy, but if sunshine had a smell, it would smell like luffy), a scent that you had grown so extremely comforted by, it felt like a warm hug, or just getting home after a long day.

"lu, don't you want me to get your dessert?" you whispered. his soft tired voice only had enough energy to mumble out a soft "later.." before he drifted off to sleep.

and just for tonight, you would stay. soaking up this opportunity and holding onto it for dear life.

•♡•

when your crew had initially stopped at sabaody, you truly thought you were in for a fun time. yes, you always expected a little hitch in the plans, that's just natural considering your captain, but nothing could prepare you for what was to come.

•♡•

as per usual, you're running for your lives from government officials, and countless other enemies, this time the stakes higher than they had ever been before, with crew members disappearing right in front of your eyes. before you knew it, it was just you and luffy left. tears welling in your eyes as luffy lets out an ear-shattering scream for you to just run.

you swear you didn't even see bartholomew kuma in front of you, but the next thing you knew you were shooting through the sky, heading god knows where, separated from your crew and your beloved captain.

•♡•

the island you ended up at was less than ideal. between fighting for your life daily, attempting to find some sort of civilization, and being separated from the people you loved the most in the world, you really couldn't imagine anything worse.

that wasn't until the day you finally found a town, hordes of people were crowding a newspaper stand, after making your way through the crowd, and grabbing a paper to see what all the fuss was about, did your heart finally break into two.

the headline read: portgas d. ace - died in action during paramount war

your eyes began to overflow with tears, just imagining the amount of pain luffy was in, and you could do absolutely nothing to help. you momentarily lost yourself in the grief of it all, the man you loved, separated from the people he loved and trusted the most, witnessing the death of his brother right in front of his eyes, all alone.

and the shock didn't end there. when a couple days later, a pit of dread inside your stomach when you heard the same crowds out again huddled around the newspaper stand, only to find your captain on the cover.

at first, knowing he was safe and somewhat okay made you drop to your knees with relief that you almost overlooked the drawing on his arm: 3D2Y

•♡•

the only thing that got you through those 2 years always from luffy and the crew was keeping extremely busy. if you weren't constantly training in combat, practicing new techniques with your devil fruit, reading anything and everything under the sun from history to medicine to stupid trashy romance novels, learning new languages, and a thousand other skills. you hardly had time for sleep, let alone time to think, because if for a second you stopped, you would fall apart.

•♡•

it was by sheer luck you managed to avoid the hassle that caribou and his crew had caused, turns out you made the right call to just stay aboard the sunny.

the second your eyes met luffy and his feet touched the deck, his arms were already wrapped around you so tight that you forgot how to breathe for a second. after 2 years of holding back your tears, this one hug is what finally made you come undone. you buried your face into the crook of your captain's neck, and he placed his hand on top of your head, stroking your hair as you sobbed. "i missed you too, so much more than you know." he whispered as he held you, this time he'd never let you go again.

•♡•

the voyage to fishman island proved to be the best time for the crew to finally relax and get to enjoy in each other's presence for the first time in years, truly a great reason for an over-the-top banquet on its own. and boy, what a banquet it was.

•♡•

you had deeply missed girl talk with robin and nami, all three of you sharing stories from your time apart, when a hand suddenly slipped into yours. you turn your head to the bright wide hazel eyes of your captain "um.. there's something i want to tell you...in private.." he said, with this adorable little lopsided smile with a hint of blush spreading across his cheeks that you had never seen before, but committed to memory the second you did. the girls smiled at you, gesturing it was okay to step away and you could catch up later.

he whisked you away to his favorite spot, the top of the hull, in a painful amount of silence. your mind suddenly overwhelmed conjuring up the millions of things he could possible say to you. after helping you get atop the lion's head of the thousand sunny, with luffy standing in front of you, he placed his hands hips lifting you up and letting you wrap your legs around his waist before he gently sat down, and then your mind just stopped.

the familiar warmth of luffy's chest pressed against yours, arms around your back, and cheek pressed up against yours with his chin resting on your shoulder. oh, how you had missed this.

turning your face ever so slightly to look at his, did you finally meet his eyes. with a small smile, he looked at you and with a small giggle and a tiny voice he said "hi". you couldn't help but let your heart melt right there as you shyly smiled back and returned the greeting.

with your eyes still on his, you couldn't help but ask "lu, what did you want to talk to me about?" the curiosity and suspense was starting to make you want to crawl out of your skin.

"oh! right!! i wanted to tell you that i love you!" he cheerly replied, so casual that you questioned if you had misheard him.

you couldn't help yourself but to ask for clarification "wait, what did you just say luffy?"

and with his usual luffy smile, he loudly and proudly repeated the words you thought you misheard "i said i love you!!"

for a second, your heart stopped. "you love me? lu, are you su-"

but before you could begin to question him, he put a hand on the side of your face and pulled you in for a small kiss. once his lips finally left yours, you looked at him with wide eyes and bright red cheeks, searching for an explanation.

he softly began to explain "i couldn't wait to tell you any longer... after these past two years.. i just... i want you to know that i love you."

your eyes turned glassy, and with your captain's wide waiting eyes, you couldn't stop yourself as the words "i love you too, lu." poured out of your mouth. pulling your captain as close as you could to you, you held him knowing this time you'd never have to let him go.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: ahhhhhhhhh, i live and die for calling luffy "lu", its truly my favorite pet name in the world for him 😭😭😭 hopefully i was able to do your ask some justice!!

a/n: i just checked my activity center on tumblr and !!!! omg thank you so much for 100 followers!! the amount of love and support i've been receiving on my fics genuinely means the world to me!! so if you're new, or just now finding my blog, thank you for being here!!!

a/n: enjoyed this fic? you can find my masterlist here!!

[dinogoofymutated]

im 100% new to x-men(i grew up in a DC family lol) but I am just. SO down bad for remy. idk how to write requests or anything, but can I ask for headcanons for him with a touchstarved fem reader? sfw or nsfw, both, idc really he's just rotating in my brain, gambit my beloved

Gambit/GN!reader

Dude I completely get it!! I was a HUGE x-men fan as a kid and as I grew up the hyperfixation fell into the back of my mind. I too grew up mostly on DC and I feel like the reason DC became my go-to was because there's just not a ton of fanfiction for the x-men, reader inserts in particular. I'm working on fixing that! But my full-length fics are a little hard to finish/start. Anyway- Remy is definitely one of the top #3 x-men to be down bad for lol!

TWs: none that I can think of atm. Mostly fluffy goodness! Written picturing a fem! Reader but no pronouns mentioned

I definitely think that it's not a completely ridiculous idea that one of Remy's love languages could be touch, despite how his relationship with Rogue revolves around the absence of touch!

Tbh, I feel like he's just respectful of his partner's wants and needs in a relationship, and if touching and cuddling is a no-go he's perfectly fine with backing off and showing his love in other ways!

BUT! when you give him the go-ahead, he's all over you. Hugs, cuddles, kisses, PDA, all of it!

One of his favorite things to do is catch you in the kitchen, coming up behind you and snaking his hands around your waist. He'll press his face into your hair and neck, sometimes giving you kisses, but really he just does it because he wants to feel you against him.

I think he secretly enjoys how easy it is to get you melting in his embrace. He goes out of his way to fluster you, flirting until you go red, then pulls you close. He'll nuzzle you affectionately, kiss your temple and cheeks, hold you lovingly until he feels all the tension leave your body. He especially likes when you lean into his hands when he holds your face. He knows just how much you love him, and he's determined to show you all the love he knows you deserve.

    “Cher.” Remy’s chest rumbles with the words. You only respond with a hum, tucked into his side comfortably. The afternoon had started with a movie, originally. The two of you had some free time, and Gambit had a movie he really wanted to watch, so movie night it was. You were watching at first, you promise you were, but it was easy to get distracted by Remy. When the movie started, you were sitting next to him, leaning into his side with a bowl of popcorn in your lap, but that position could only be comfortable for so long. You were squirming, trying to relax as best you could, but after 45 minutes of sitting on this couch, it was like every bump and corner on the sofa was digging into you.

    Remy, being the observant sweetheart he is, didn’t hesitate to scoop you up into his lap. You squealed at first, surprised by the action, but Remy simply laughed at you, leaning back to lay down on the couch with you against his chest. Unsurprisingly, this was much more comfortable. Maybe a little too comfortable, as it didn’t take long for you to stop paying attention to the TV entirely. You snuggled closer to Remy as you started to doze off. One of his hands rested against your lower back, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, caressing and threading his fingers through his hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep against him.

    “Cheerrr.” Remy says again, drawing the words out. “Movie’s been over f’ a while.” You pout at him, sighing sleepily as you tuck your face into his neck. He chuckles again, thumbs caressing your skin idly.

    “You don’t wanna cuddle anymore?” You ask, maybe a little bit more sad than you should be, or would’ve been if you were more awake.

    “Now Gambit didn’t say that.” Remy purrs. You whine again as he moves a little, adjusting a little so that he can press a kiss to your temple. You reluctantly untuck yourself from his neck, rewarded with a sweet kiss from Remy. The action makes you smile. He’s looking at you with such love and adoration, like no one has looked at you before, and it has you feeling loved beyond measure. You lean into his touch as he cups your face, holding his hand to your cheek to keep him there.

    Content couldn’t begin to explain how you felt in this moment.

[first-edition]

idk if this it's a good request but I've always loved Sandor/handmaid readers fics!

It could be that reader has a crush on him, so she leaves him little gifts or do favors for him in secret, like a secret admirer type of thing<3 or you can write the other way around too! The hound having a crush on reader, it all depends on you

Love your writing btw😭 so excited for Fox and the Hound next chapters💗

OF course that is sooo cute! Im so happy you like the book so far there will a ton more of exciting and sad events to happen!!

Cw- reader has hair that can be moved out of the way, fluff, Cersei is abusive when drunk, Sandor being adorable. Sandor x hand maid reader.

Little Gift

The first time you laid eyes on the big brute of a man you fell in love. All the other handmaids were terrified of him, they hid when he walked down the halls, talked about how scary he was, and purposefully avoided him when doing daily duties, oftentimes leaving them up to you for more work. But you never minded, seeing sandor was the highlight of your day and little did you know it was his as well. 

You grew up in the palace, not as the grand princess type but as a maiden to said princesses, your mother was handmaiden to queen cersi and she taught you her ways to excel at it. Which you did. You learned how to clean a certain way on certain fabrics, you learned to cook and most importantly obey. All that time you spend learning about and admiring one person in particular. Ser Sandor Clegane. The king's guard dog, the hound, no matter what frugal name they called him he would always be sandor to you. 

Because all the other women were terrified their jobs for him were left to you. Sorting out his linens mostly as you weren't allowed in the light quarters but you made due. When you went to collect or bring them back you began leaving extras. Coin, treats from the kitchen, sometimes flowers. You've seen him throw them away sometimes but at least he noticed them. You knew that there could never be any chance with the rugged man due to his past and forceful nature but a girl can dream after all. 

You follow in the courtyard over seeing the princess Marcella talking with a sutor. You walk a hefty pace behind however not far enough to lose sight or mishear if false intentions on his part became at hand and you needed to step in. They stop their walk so you do as well making sure to give a settled amount of privacy, a group of knights in training most likely by the uniform pass you by one of them subjecting them to speak with you. 

“Excuse me ser.” you reply as you try to form a way around the larger man to continue to chaperone the princess and her caller. 

“Come on love, take the day off the little princess will be fine eh. Come and drink with us. Training is almost over.” he chuckles. Two of his friends then join into the new found joke. One of them takes a hold of the necklace you wear. 

“This is a fine thing for a maid to be wearing isn't it? Little Jewels and all. You steal it?” he huffs. 

“N-no it was my mothers! Now excuse me.” you say harshly before trying to break away. The men begin to banter, grabbing at you. 

“OI!” you hear a deep grumbly voice the men let go of you dispersing back as sandor comes into view. 

“Didnt you fucking hear her. Fuck off or i’ll use your guts as a jump rope.” he barks out at them. They hurriedly run off with the others disappearing around the corner. You look up at him about to say thank you but he simply leans down, taking a knee before standing back up, your necklace in his hand, broken from all the tussle. 

“No…” you say your heart clenching, you take it in your hands seeing the snapped chain and now misaligned holder for the jewel. 

“Y/n!” you hear marcella call to you as she takes your arm in her hand, a worried look on her face you look at her showing her your necklace. 

“Are you alright?” she asks from the commotion happening a bit ago. You nod yet still sad about the jewelry. She nods in thanks to sandor before you both head off now done for the day with her line up of men. You want to turn back and say thank you to the larger knight but before you can even open your mouth he’s farther off walking away. 

Your work continues as normal, cleaning, taking care of marcella and leaving small things for sandor. You walk to the side of the knight's quarters catching a glimpse of something that makes you double take a small vase that holds the flower you placed for him. A smile forms on your lips before you turn to walk off only to be met with the front of the very man you were smitten about. 

“My apologies, my lord, I didn't see you there.” you say gasping. He hums before walking around you but before he disappears you speak. 

“I wanted to thank you!” you exclaim. He stops his back to you briefly before turning around. 

“For?” he asks confused as to why. 

“For protecting me from the other knights, you were very brave.” you speak. He chuckles in a way that slightly puts you down. 

“Brave? A dog doesn't need courage to chase off rats. Those measly cunts aren't even knights let alone are ever gonna be.” he speaks. 

“You shouldn't do that, call yourself a dog.” you say softly looking up to him as he walks closer to you. 

“You're not a dog, you're a man.” you say. He huffs. 

“I don't scare you, do i?” he asks, kind of annoyed. You shake your head no before answering. 

“Why would you?” you ask to look up to him. 

“Hmm.” he grumbles before looking to his waist where he keeps his sword belt and others. He flips open the small saddle bag reaching into it and pulling out a necklace, your necklace, but it's fixed. 

A small happy gasp leaves your lips and a smile is placed on your face as you see the piece of jewelry. 

“Turn ‘round.” he says, seeing your arms are full with cloth. You do so at his command you feel his hand pulling your hair away before the cool metal is placed against your skin sliding up ever so to clip the back together. You smile looking down at it before turning back to him. 

“Thank you!” you happily exclaim. You're not going to question how he got it from your room or who fixed it but he did it for you. He just looks at you, his eyes scanning your features before he turns around and walks off again. 

The next few days there's been a gift at your side. Decorated clothes, little bits of jewelry, and the biggest gesture a dress which you wear to marcellas send off. You were supposed to go with her, wanting to make sure she’d be safe marrying the prince of dorne but Tyrion wouldn't let you. Stuck in the castle you remained to do things for the queen. Oftentimes she confided in you or when she was drunk hit you. You began to walk around the hall quieter, smaller, bruised even, but worst of all your gifts to sandor had ceased and he hated it. 

Cersi had cast you out after the worst treatment, even throwing scrolls and glasses at you before hitting you and throwing you out into the open battlefield during black water while she continued to drink herself silly. 

Before you knew what to do to hide you were hit by the blunt end of a sword and knocked unconscious. Found on the ground a few seconds later you were picked up onto a horse riding off. 

You came too in bed, your headache slightly as you sat up. You looked down at yourself no longer in the dress you were wearing but wrapped in a black fur, your small clothes not doing you justice to keep you modest as you moved the blanket to the side holding the fur closer to you. 

As soon as you stood your legs gave out sending you to the ground accidentally knocking over the side table you use to try and catch yourself for support. The large oak door of the room opens revealing sandor who rushes to you helping you up making sure you're not hurt any further. 

“S-sandor?” you ask as he picks you up easily and places you back onto the bed. 

“Stay.” he says before kneeling back down picking up the dropped table. You look around seeing everything about the room, the fireplace farther from the bed where it's supposed to be unlit, leaving the candles of the room to give dim light. 

“What happened where am I?” you ask. 

“Are you cold?” he asks, not answering the question. 

“No..” You say. 

“You're shaking.” he replies back before pulling the blanket back up over you. 

“Stay here.” he says before getting back up and walking out of the room. Ofcourse you dont listen and get up nonetheless this time your legs become stronger as you walk out of the room following where he was to go. As you walk through you admire the house looking around seeing a yellow and black banner with dogs on. 

You watch as Sandor walks back into the house, the door closing behind him. 

“Sandor.” you say he puts down the large animal he carries on his shoulder. 

“Where am i?” you ask. 

“Home. My home is just beside white harbor. You've been out for two days.” he says you look around once more looking at the fireplace in the main room once again not lit. 

“Aren't you cold? The fires are not lit.” you ask, seeing the sheen of frost beginning to appear on the windows. 

“I'm not going to light it, I'm fine.” he huffs. You walk over to it, grabbing the logs from the side, placing them in and beginning to strike it, creating the fire that lights the home and gives you warmth. 

He watches you the entire time fearing for both your safety and his own. “What happened?” you ask looking back at him as you sit on the furs by the fire. 

“I don't know. I saw a man with you in his arms. You were unconscious. I killed him. Took you, I assumed you didn't know him. Saw too many women being raped didnt want you too be one of them.” he says 

“Right…cersi she pushed me out i don't remember much after that.” you speak. 

“Fuck cersi, fuck jeoffry.” he huffs pickign up the animal and walking out of the room only to come back a bit later. You stand up and walk to him.

“You're welcome to stay as long as you want, it's just me and winter is coming.” he says as you nod. 

“Your dress is at the end of the bed.” he says pointing down the way. You nod but before walking over to the room you take his arm in yours pulling him down a bit and kiss his cheek. He won't admit it but the blush condoning his face was hotter than the fire. 

For the next few weeks he came more comfortable with your presence even leading to things being said and feelings being shared including a night together which neither of you are led to forget any time soon or later. He continued to give you little gifts one of which being a dog to keep you company while he was gone hunting or just out. And you of course gave him the best little gift of all after the next months, his own son. But you are by far the best gift he's received

[theoceansluvr]

Study Date Headcanons

warnings; none ! characters; percy jackson, jason grace, + leo valdez author's note; did i technically write a study date fic already ? yes. did i write it with my big 3 ? no !! also i wrote this during breaks on my AP psych assignments so it's a tad bit wonky.. T^T

PERCY JACKSON -

oh boy.. you guys rarely get any actual work done-

but it's very fun either way !

i feel like he has a self established award system so that for every problem he gets right, he gets a kiss..

which usually just ends in him asking super easy questions he already knows the answer to in order to get one.

"hey, the answer to #5 is y = 7.5 , right ?" "uhh.. yeah ? you've gone over that like five times-" "crazy ! i got the answer right though SOOO"

very ineffective method, but you still fall for it

in the scenario where you do get some work done, it's usually bc both of you procrastinated super hard

(we hate deadlines in his household !!)

anywho, lots of snacks too ! like blueberries, blue cookies his mom made, other various things to yer liking !

amazing with science for whatever reason ??? so go to him for help !!

i give him aaaaa 9.5/10 on the study date scale: only productive when necessary but worth it for the kisses !

JASON GRACE -

the most studious person on earth, literally has never missed a deadline !

except that one time but that's bc demigod stuff

has decent handwriting ??(he was raised by wolves okay :c) but enough that you can share notes with having to decipher anything

really good in english but simply bc latin influences on it

will study for like.. 3 hours straight without breaks so you have to grab him by the ear to relax and drink something other than cold coffee and flat red bull..

takes a crap ton of ap and honors classes it's unbelievable, so def the man to go to for anything !!

ermm classical music or pure silence, no in-between ! unless you play the music which is usually what happens

makes you tea/coffee before hand since it helps him focus so he just assumes it'll help you

not necessarily a study headcanon but if you share classes he ALWAYS partners up with you !

anyways, i got sidetracked 10/10 on the study date scale: very productive evening !

LEO VALDEZ -

MY BOYFRIEND EVER !!!

another ap and honors class taker so pls ask him for help in literally anything !

ESPECIALLY MATH 🗣️🗣️

probably takes like.. algebra 2 freshman year

anyways, not the most focused person but he gets his work done super fast despite that !

fast and correctly might i add, like it pisses teachers off when he talks on class and is like "oh i already finished !"

makes you dance with him during study breaks :3 doesn't matter how late it is or if yer in the library, yer dancing to whatever music is playing in the earbuds you guys are sharing

if he finishes his work early he either helps you or just.. stares at you longingly ?? very sappy

he also draws all over his notes so good luck trying to read them !

he gets an 12/10 on the study date scale: im bias + i hate math and would kill for this man to help me with it.. T^T

THIS WAS ACTUALLY SO FUN TO WRITE- might start doing more multiple character works tbh.. anyways !! hope you enjoyed loves🩷 also it was very tempting to put connor in here :(( kinda wish i did but i have work to do !!

[qoldenskies]

Yeah people pleaser Leo takes me out of fics so fast. Way faster than unbothered Donnie Or a Leo that crumbles under trauma if I'm honest

I've seen a lot of fics where his internal dialogue is so dependant heavy? And anxious about everything

That Leo would never tease Raph about his "chasm." The mere idea would make him want to vomit

Maybe they should try writing for mutant mayhem instead? Now there's an anxious, people pleasing Leo

"he would not say that" is one thing and its usually leveraged wrong. you can stomp on characters in all sorts of ways to Make Them Say That. i struggle with judging over the much deeper "he would not have that stress response" AND IN LEO'S CASE I DONT LIKE IT WHEN PEOPLE MAKE HIM FAWN LOL its pretty much the thing he does the LEAST, sucking up to people to manipulate them or going "ermmmmm why are you angry? lol" are both things that are not fawn responses at all LMFAO

actually that argument with raph in the movie is pretty much the BEST example of leo going to fight mode when he's upset about something. brushing it off and riling up raph INTENTIONALLY to derail the situation, he likes to go the long way around to make raph look unreasonable sometimes lmao. he likes to poke at them to embarrass them in order to express his disapproval, and he ESPECIALLY does it to those he's directly already antagonistic with. hell, he can even open his big mouth around the kraang in the middle of a dire situation lmao

donnie is so focused on attaining the approval of others, he is a BILLION times more likely to fawn and suck up when he feels threatened, as well as harbor a lot of anxiety about how others perceive him. leo wants to be liked, and he doesn't want to be alone, of course, but he turns a lot of inward. its about the persona he puts up, and when he's upset he'll crack down on it and put those walls up higher, usually via. lashing out in that exact way

it's literally the "im just a little guy im just a little birthday boy" response, but i think if you fucked him up enough you could make him more surprisingly focused cornered animal tbhhh and i think that's a ton more interesting interpretation of his issues. they cant psychological warefare him the same way he does them and it shows

tdlr in my opinion its like. he would not turn to desperate people pleasing when he feels his sense of self shaken or destroyed, he would double down and shut people out and potentially even refuse to accept help instead

hell, it took EVERYTHING with the kraang and all of the near death experiences in order to get him to actually reflect on himself and change in the movie. leo DOES CARE. very much, and a big reason he was so upset with raph and reacted like that is because raph used the lives of their little brothers as a point of argument, and implied he was apathetic to something like that. he HATES being seen that way!! so him actually facing how this behavior IS bad and seeing how much danger its gotten them into (especially with CJ's words in mind) is the thing that really makes him re-evaluate himself and grow.

leo pretends to have a fawn response but its very apparent that its just masquerading a deeply-rooted fight response. donnie pretends to have a fight response but its very apparent he's just masquerading a deeply-rooted fawn response. you understand.

[envy-of-the-apple]

I'm 99% sure it was called "Forever Yours" and it was a yandere oneshot series basically of a ton of popular anime boys from the time. The ones I remember were the Tokyo Ghoul dude, there were some Death Note guy chapters, there was the ML from Kamisama kiss, OH and the white haired guy from Psycho-Pass. There were like 50 chapters. It had probably a million likes or something it was INSANELY popular.

Ryntymy also had some other ongoing fics (and a ryntymny/reader crack fic, god, love them for that), but god it's soooo hard to remember.

i DID find a post about one of the fics i knew of that was actually REALLY GOOD that you would have LOVED (it was very similar to saltburn although it's quotev so this yandere was ofc pretty tame):

https://www.reddit.com/r/Quotev/comments/1b652gu/trying_to_find_old_x_reader_fic/

as for what's still up... hm. i do remember parallel ink, and also psychadelic peanut (they had this really trippy izaya fic):

https://www.quotev.com/story/9754667/Unfortunate-YandereIzaya-Orihara-x-Reader/1

AH parallel ink wrote kingdom of possession, which i DO remember:

https://www.quotev.com/story/6759314/Kingdom-of-Possession-Yandere-King-x-Reader

and there was this one series that was ACTUALLY quizzes, which was neat:

https://www.quotev.com/quiz/8085561/Out-of-Sight-Out-of-Mind

this one was a pretty fun sort of mystery style thing:

https://www.quotev.com/story/11260294/Seesaw/1

and this one was like. formative for my longing for pathetic masochistic men. i wasn't super into it back then but THE SEEDS WERE PLANTED:

https://www.quotev.com/story/8901227/Then-Came-You-Sadistic-Reader-x-Yandere-Character-One-Shots/2

SEESAW????? I lovedddd that fic so so much ahhhh it was amazing!!! the fic put me in so much denial cuz i was like 'its him! wait no its not him? wait it IS him? no wait-' very very entertaining

speaking of murder mystery yandere fics...there was this one where the reader was isekaid onto a train and quickly pieces together that all of the passengers resemble ppl from this book they read years ago...except they cant remember the ending aka they dont know who the murderer is. pretty sure the author deleted it but it was good!

its so funny you mention psychedelic peanut cuz i remember they got canceled???? actually...pretty sure parallel ink did too...as well the rest of their clique....and thats why i zipped outta the quotev yandere community!

actually that one aot isekai i was talking about was hosted on quotev! pretty much the height of literature, there's no competition. if i dont find it im just tempted to just rewrite it.

Curse of a Broken Promise is still up there and i think it still holds up! its a yandere kaneki ken fic and the writing is so....whimsical? idk how to explain it but it whenever i read it i always felt so sad. good read!

Imperishable affection (yandere!mafioso x reader) is ALSO written by the same author. basically yandere mafia boss guy threatens you into loving him or else your family dies yada yada so ofc the mc does. for a quotev yandere fic its pretty dark actually.

You Need Me (Yandere Manipulator x reader) THIS was the fic that brought me into the yandere thing. and the author used to update EVERY day so this whole this was an event. and the TWIST i remember being 14 and gasping like 'omg he did EVERYTHING???' very very good

If you want a izayax reader fic whos author WASNT wierd might i suggest Twisted Obsession. Beautiful writing. Its better than most ao3 writing actually and wayyy above mine. I love the way this author characterizes Izaya in this and the backstory for why hes so strange is pretty believable. like i fully believe it should be canon.

Savior Complex is an aot isekai where the mc gets whisked into a yandere sim where Petra is the love interest and the rest of the aot cast is obsessed with her. but we can all guess what happens. pretty good tho!!!

BUT EVERYONE GO READ PRETTY its a gojo x LATINA READER AHHHHHH YESSSS. i just LOVE LOVE LOVE the way this author writes. its so poetic and there's so much left up for interpretation.