#my room was my whole world growing up
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moths-in-a-coat · 3 months ago
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it kind of baffles me how people can have like clear defined memories and emotions of their childhoods. for me, it’s genuinely such a blur. i don’t know if it’s because i grew up with everyday pretty much looking the same, but i have to put in a significant amount of effort to remember specific events.
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nymphoniah · 2 months ago
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lessons learned | logan howlett
AN: here's a little drabble about logan fucking you from behind, keeping you in a headlock, squished between his biceps <3 and also some dirty talk here and there!
pairing: mean!logan x afab!reader
content/tags: NSFW, minors DNI (18+ only), dom!logan, choking, dacryphilia, name calling, porn without plot, dirty talk, creampies, unprotected sex, pet names (princess, doll, etc.), size kink, mark leaving (ie. hickeys), breeding kink, brat taming, rough sex
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logan sees the way you watch his arms hungrily, your lust blown pupils observing the way his muscles twitch when he's feeling tired. he knows the chokehold he has on you.
just a poor little thing, wrapped around his finger.
"i see the way you look at my arms, darlin", he grunts, manhandling you so your back presses against his chest, his toned arms snaking around your waist, keeping you locked in place.
"you don't even try to hide it," logan adds, pressing kisses against your shoulder, his hands working at the straps of your tank top, slowly sliding them down to reveal your tits.
"such a dirty girl, hm?" he teases, rolling the sensitive buds between his thumb and index finger.
"were you ever taught that it was rude to stare?" he hisses, tugging at your nipples, making you wince out in pain. logan smirks at your audible displeasure, now turning his attention from your tits to your neck.
"i’m gonna mark you up doll, ‘oughta teach you a lesson somehow," he growls. logan presses a kiss against the shell of your ear, making his way down to your nape, planting wet kisses along the way.
you lean forwards, giving him easier access to your neck—and when you give him an inch, he takes a mile.
his kisses get more erratic, sloppier, messier, hungrier. he can’t hold himself back, he needs to mark you, and absolutely wants to show the whole world that you’re his.
and so he sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your neck, paying sweet attention to how your weak moans escaped from your lips. he’d nip and suck at your skin, hard enough to leave those love bites you both oh-so carnally desire.
your brain is all fuzzy from the stinging pain you felt on your neck, mixed alongside the growing pleasure you felt between your legs as he simultaneously paws at your tits.
“i can’t take it lo, s’too much,” you whine, shutting your eyes tight. tears start forming around your waterline as he continues his assault on your neck.
just as your vision starts to get hazy, he wraps his left arm around your neck, keeping your face snug between his forearm and bicep.
“be a good girl and fuckin’ take it,” he commands, a singular claw popping out of his right hand, slicing through your mini-skirt to reveal your lacy black pair of panties.
sheathing his claw, he hastily pulls them down to reveal your sopping wet cunt. “fuck me…” he hisses, admiring your cunt in all its glory.
“such a dirty fuckin’ whore, you getting off on this?” he says smugly, slipping a finger between your folds, observing the way your pussy sucks him in.
you weakly nod as you remain sandwiched in his headlock. teetering between the lines of passing out and losing consciousness, you mumble out a string of words—something along the lines of “i need you to fuck me,” or “fuckin’ put it in”; they both mean the same thing to logan anyways.
he obliges, with one arm wrapped around your neck, and the other hastily working at the belt of his jeans. in one swift motion, his boxers and jeans hit the floor in tandem, freeing his cock from the confines of the tight denim.
he spits in his hand, pumping his cock a couple times before he finally lines himself up, and slides himself in, down to the hilt. your pussy sucks him in like a vice, the two of you moaning in unison.
“you’re so tight for me, princess.” he groans, thrusting into you at a rapid pace, fully sheathing himself out, and pushing his full length back into you.
the sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room. the pace of which he fucked you made you dizzy, the grip around your neck adding to the immense pleasure you felt in your cunt.
you attempt to press kisses against his bicep as the muscle secures you in place, but you fail to do so, as shown by your wine red lip stick smudged all over his arm.
“such a naughty whore, suckin’ me in like this” he teases, his free hand pressing against the bulge on your stomach, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust of his. “need this dick to fill you up, huh?”
and you whine as much as your parched voice allowed you to. “want you so bad, lo” you mumble incoherently. “need you stuff me with your cum.”
“such a filthy mouth for a sweet little girl like you,” logan grunts, the movement of his hips getting sloppier. “beg for it.”
“need you to fuckin’ breed me,” you moan, “make me yours,” you cry out— and that’s what makes logan snap.
with a few final deep thrusts, he finishes inside you. his hot ropes of cum fill your cunt to the brim; your arousal mixed with his cum leaks out of your sopping hole before he even pulls out.
he keeps his cock inside you for a minute, pumping whatever he has left inside of you, and finally pulls out. he winces, already missing the way your gummy walls wrapped tightly around his cock.
“need to keep that in you…” he says playfully, plugging your cunt with his thumb, the calloused pad making sure that his cum is stuffed deep inside you.
“now let that be a lesson for you, doll,” he quips, removing his thumb, slipping it into his mouth to taste the mixture of the two of you.
he then brings his thumb to your bottom lip, inviting you to have a taste for yourself. the heady taste of his cum combined with your slick had you moan around him.
he pulls his thumb away from your mouth with a pop, and you look up at him with your fucked-out eyes. you simply nod your head and give him a lazy smile.
surely it wouldn’t hurt to stare at him every now and then.
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eufezco · 4 months ago
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LIKE THE FIRST TIME
it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.
logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter
it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.
in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.
he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.
—how was your day?
logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.
—did something happen?
you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.
—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.
you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?
logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.
—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.
you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.
logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.
—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.
you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.
your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.
you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.
your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.
his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.
your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.
—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.
you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.
he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.
you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.
your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.
—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.
with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.
—it was one of your favorite tshirts.
—don't care.
and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.
all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?
now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.
he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.
—you're beautiful —. he whispered.
logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.
you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.
—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.
you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.
logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.
you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.
—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.
he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.
—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.
between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.
you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.
—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.
oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?
logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.
—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?
you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.
—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.
—felt too good to even think about it.
you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.
—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.
he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.
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willowfey · 1 year ago
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i had weird dreams about traveling through dimensions on halloween to old familiar streets of my hometown but having everything be different because i was slightly off in my calculations so the colours were distorted and the houses were rearranged but the smell was still the same. then i woke up with visceral memories clouding my head of going to get my braces tightened each month and getting the colour changed according to the season/holiday.
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milktiicup · 14 days ago
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do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling
persistence is key
That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”
‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<
warnings. canon typical violence >w<
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You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.
Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 
You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”
In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.
At least for a while, he left you alone.
Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.
However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.
It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.
A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 
You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?
You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.
Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.
And Mr. Scarletella. 
The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.
“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”
Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 
You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 
“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.
Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 
“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 
That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.
“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”
The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.
You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”
Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.
“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 
The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 
The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.
“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”
He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 
“No. Go away.”
“Give name. Teach.”
“Go away!”
“Teach name.”
“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”
He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 
“Wrong name.”
“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.
“You teach them name?”
Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.
“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”
“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 
Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 
You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.
Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 
“Hehe.”
You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 
You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.
Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 
You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.
Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  
“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”
“Help you.”
“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”
Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 
“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”
“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”
Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”
“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”
“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 
You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”
He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.
He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”
Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 
Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 
Oh my good God, does he like you?
“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”
You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…
Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  
“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 
Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 
He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”
“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”
“Them!” 
Curse this damn language. 
“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”
His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…
Umbrella.
You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.
That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 
Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 
How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!
You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!
In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.
Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 
“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”
Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.
Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 
“Can’t give name,” you remind him.
He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 
Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 
“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”
“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”
“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”
There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 
And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”
You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.
But at least something is better than nothing, right?
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elixrr · 9 months ago
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“could you be seen with me and still act proud?”
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➢ Jing Yuan, Argenti, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Blade, Xiao, Childe, Wanderer, Zhongli
➢ Star Rail / Genshin x [GN] Reader
➥ (their answer + reaction to this question)
➥ (comfort / fluff)
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✧ - JING YUAN
“Why, of course. I would hold your hand up for the whole of the Xianzhou to see.”
This was pretty expected of the sly general. However, what was unexpected was the way he took you in his arms and lifted you up—bridal style. You begged him to put you down as he opened the doors of his and your room, now making his way outside to remind the whole Xianzhou that you're his and he's yours.
✧ - ARGENTI
“Dearest love—of course, I would be so proud to have the chance to take the hand of mortal beauty itself, and, if it were chivalrous, I would boast about your beauty everywhere I go.”
Ever so poetic, Argenti pulls your heart strings again with his creative (yet cheesy) lines. He loves you; that's a fact that nobody can deny, and he believes that you were sent down by Idrila herself with how attractive you are. Without a hesitant thought, he backs away and offers you his hand—will you accept the offer in which he takes you from place to place, hand in hand, to show the whole world that your his love?
✧ - AVENTURINE
“You wanna take a bet? Here, I'll take you out to dinner if you guess my answer correctly—get it wrong, and I decide on what I'll do with you.”
With a wink and a smile turning into a smirk, it's always hard to guess what Aventurine is thinking, but with the clock ticking, you hardly get time to really think, and so you curiously answer with “no.” A smile grows on his face, and he leans in close, holding your arms. He whispers in your ear, “I guess that means you have to do what I tell you tonight.”
✧ - DAN HENG
“Of course. I do... I do love you, after all.”
His sentences are kept short and simple (with a little bit of blush), just like how they always are. Now, unlike most people on this list, he isn't bringing you outside to let the world know that you're dating, but he would feel and does absolutely feel proud to have you as his love. He reassures you that he would never feel embarrassed or feel the need to hide his love for you, no matter the crowd he's surrounded by.
✧ - BLADE
“Yes. Nobody's taking you, and nobody's taking me. Everyone had better know that you're mine, and the same goes for me.”
His response was rather threatening, but that's typical with Blade. His words are as sharp as his sword, but they're also as meaningful as sharp; his intent is nowhere near ill towards you, and he only means that he's dedicated himself to you already, and it's a dedication that he would never feel embarrassed or guilty for. Now, take his hand—he'll promise the world that you're his tonight.
✧ - XIAO
“Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”
In Adeptus Xiao language, he means, “yes, of course I would. Archons, holding your hand is a blessing itself.” And, though he doesn't admit it, he still feels it. You are his first and only love in several millennia. You, of every person to ever set foot in Liyue, managed to capture his heart when nobody else could. Xiao loves you, and he feels that he will forever, so he prays you'd banish him if he ever hurts you or hides his love away for something trivial because that means the karma got to him and that he's gone mad.
✧ - CHILDE
“Of course, babe! You know what? Let's go on a date right now— everything's on me!”
And that's simply Childe. Without a word, he disappears and reappears with your favorite outfit in hand, and has you put it on (in private as he waits outside the bedroom door), and when you're done, he's suddenly dressed nicely with roses in hand, and he takes you out on a date. How? No clue, but know that he's letting the whole region know that you're his right here and right now.
✧ - WANDERER
“Huh? That's a stupid question. Why are you asking me, anyway?”
Yes. He means yes in every way possible. His sharp tongue speaks the opposite, but Wanderer truly means that he would show you off to the world if he had to. If he has to, mainly because he finds the concept of love in its entirety as stupid, but he also loves you too much to let you leave him, let alone have someone else think that you're some vacant partner just waiting to be taken. Now, hold both of his hands. He'll glide you above Sumeru City and show everyone there that you're his if you're still thinking about the question.
✧ - ZHONGLI
“Well, of course. Would you like to take a walk around the harbor for me to prove that?”
Zhongli senses your insecurity, and he wishes to alleviate your worries, so he takes you to a popular teahouse by a bridge. It's not that grand or special, but he keeps you close to him as you both sip away at your tea and embrace the company of one another.
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yes, this was a heathers reference.
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gguk-n · 2 months ago
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Daddy Dearest (Oscar Piastri Dad fic)
Summary- Oscar is a girl dad.
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There weren't many people who had Oscar wrapped around their little finger, except Amelia Piastri. Almost 2 years old and she could make Oscar dance like a chicken on the drop of a hat.
Oscar had met Amelia's mother and the love of his life, Y/N when they were in high-school. They started dating soon after. The year Oscar was a reserve driver for Alpine; he might not have been busy racing but he was busy with his girlfriend. The whole Alpine-Mclaren fiasco brought us baby Mia. It was a usual Thursday, Y/N had been stressing out about missing her period for the second time this month when she had regular periods since she could remember. A thought passed through her; it had been floating around in her head since last month. What if she was pregnant? Oscar and her had always been safe; but not a single contraceptive was a hundred percent perfect. So, without informing Oscar, she went to the store and bought a few tests. When the first one said positive, she did another and then another. By now Oscar had become aware of his missing girlfriend who was coup-ed up in their bathroom for the past half hour. He was knocking on the door; "babe, is everything okay? You've been in there since you returned" But when no reply came; the knocking became more rapid and worried. "Y/N, are you ok? Please answer. You're stressing me out" he begged. Then the door opened slightly. A tear stained Y/N was peaking her head out. Oscar pushed the door open and hugged her. He was scanning the room as his girlfriend's body shook slightly; that's when he saw it; pregnancy tests. He pulled away to look at her; "Have you been busy taking those pregnancy test?" he asked. "How do you know what they are?" she hiccuped. "I've watched TV growing up" he smiled. She nodded and handed the 3 tests to him. They all read pregnant in bold letters. Oscar was over joyed; "Are we gonna be parents?" he shouted. "You're not angry?" she asked. "Why would I be? I get to have kids with the love of my life. Best thing that could ever happen to me" he stated. For the first time since she got the tests, she smiled. "Aren't we too young though?" she asked. "Yes, but I could take on the world with you by my side" he said kissing her. "You'll be the best dad ever" she told him. "You'll be the best mum ever" he said. The pair stayed in each other's embrace for a long time. Oscar will never admit it but he cried and then went on reddit to research what to do as a first time dad.
Amelia was born the next year when Oscar was busy racing. He wasn't able to be there for the birth of his daughter; he might have called his mother and cried about being a shitty dad from the get-go. But his father later consoled him and told him it would be fine. Oscar flew out the first chance he got to be with his girlfriend who was being taken care of by both their parents. The first time he held Amelia, he had started crying as soon as she opened her big brown eyes and looked at him. She was an exact copy of him when he was a baby, at least that's what his mother said. Y/N had to console him instead of the baby. He was sat there with his arms wrapped around Y/N who held their daughter for a really long time. Y/N had fallen in love with the name Amelia after watching the Princess Diaries growing up and Oscar wasn't about to argue with Y/N about naming their daughter after the Queen of Genovia. That's how she was named "Amelia Opal Piastri"
Oscar kept them hidden from the world after they had mutually decided not to tell anyone except their close friends and family which some how, had now included Lando Norris, much to Oscar's dismay since his daughter from the moment she could speak called Lando her twin; Oscar hated it, he was just dad or daddy when she wanted something but Lando was her best friend and twin. Lando took great joy in having to be able to steal Amelia away. Lando was helping Oscar move since he'd been staying in Monaco longer and moving with a kid wasn't easy. Mia was being very difficult today until she saw her Uncle Lando and jumped out of Oscar's arms running to Lando. "Lan, I mwiss you" she pouted raising her hands as if to signal him to carry her. Lando quickly scooped her in his arms, kissing her cheeks which elicited giggles. She wrapped her arms around Lando's neck and turned to her dad sticking her tongue out making Oscar pout. "Come here, you're my princess" he whined. "NO. I wan Lan" she said and hugged him tighter as Oscar tried to pull her away. "Oscar, behave. We have a lot of work to do. If Lando can watch over her while we unpack, that'll be great." Y/N said kissing her daughter's cheek and giving Lando a hug. Reluctantly Oscar agreed to let Lando play with her while he got the house unpacked.
While the two unpacked, Lando kept their little princess entertained. "Lan, do you vroom vroom fast?" she asked playing with the race cars she had. "Yeah" he nodded. "my daddy, vroom vroom" she paused for a moment to think, "fast more, win, wohooo" she said jumping up when the Oscar car she was playing with won and Lando's car came in second. Obviously, Mia was growing up watching racing; her dad was a F1 racer. Lando laughed when she jumped up; "Uncle Lando won many races too" he said. "My daddy win 2 races" she said looking at her fingers, counting them and holding up 2. She looked proud of herself for holding the correct number of fingers, Lando was proud too.
All that playing had tired her out; she was now laying on Lando's chest mumbling gibberish about how Leo could fly while he patted her to sleep. Oscar came back to find his daughter peacefully asleep. "I hate that she likes you more than me" Oscar stated watching the two. "Who said that?" Lando tried to control his laugh. "You can see right now" Oscar pointed out. "Mate, she loves you so much. All we talked about was how her daddy is so fast and has won 2 races." he added. Oscar smiled, "I'll put her in her room, we just got done with that" he said slowly taking her to her bed.
The house would take a few more months before they would be able to be done completely. Mia was already enjoying her play dates with Leo and Roscoe. Alex and Leo would be over a few times a week since Mia would pester Alex to come over with Leo. Leo loved Mia so much, the two would always be seen rolling around on the floor or running after each other. They never seem to tire out until they did and then they would be cuddling each other in their sleep on the couch. Roscoe was an older dog and he had seen quite a few children, he kept Mia more tame if that was possible. He would look out for her and protect her from harms way. He was very protective of her; it was very adorable to watch.
During the break, Oscar was spending the 3 weeks with his family. Y/N had been taking the bulk of parenting their 2 year old which did make Oscar feel guilty and he would try to give her as much me time when he was around as possible. "It's time for a daddy-daughter date" Oscar cooed at Mia as he carried her to get dressed. "What does my princess wanna eat today?" he asked plopping her on the changing table. "I want dino and fries and juice and white icey and tuddles" she cheered. She couldn't say Vanilla ice cream yet so it was white icey and cuddles were tuddles which Oscar hoped she wouldn't out grow. Oscar changed her into a pink tutu on her request. The two of them sat on the sofa watching Bluey with their dino nuggets, fries and a juice. Once she was done eating, half the fries were in Oscar's mouth but who was counting; he got out the ice cream and this was the one food item she would not share with anyone. The latest episode they were watching finished up and Mia was cuddling her dad. Oscar rubbed circles on her back to help her fall asleep; "I love you my angel" Oscar whispered kissing her head. "I wuv you my daddy" she whispered kissing his chest. She had seen her mum do this a few times and Oscar's heart swelled up watching her imitate her mum.
Oscar and Y/N were busy setting up another room in their house when Mia found Oscar's phone unlocked. No one knew how she got onto Instagram but she did and ended up taking a picture of her face and posting it as a story. Within minutes Oscar and Y/N's phones were blowing up. Y/N saw messages from her friends and family to check Oscar's story; Oscar had already seen what his daughter did. The next race was gonna be so fun trying to explain who that was.
The driver's group chat was going crazy, they couldn't stop laughing about how Mia posted herself. The other drivers joked that she was sick of not being able to attend races so she decided to hard launch herself. McLaren's PR team was making a story up which Oscar shut down quickly. He had been dating Y/N for a long time and had a family with her, he wasn't about spin some shitty tale about it being someone else's daughter. This was the final push that Oscar needed to strike the iron when it was hot. Oscar would propose now; the ring he had bought was burning a hole in his pants for a while now.
oscarpiastri
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Liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,367,458 others tagged y/n.y/l/n
oscarpiastri To a lifetime of forever with the loves of my life💍🧑‍🧑‍🧒
landonorris Mia is so cute in all the pictures, I'm stealing her👀👀 oscarpiastri landonorris NO YOU CAN'T HAVE HER😤😤 alexandrasaintmleux next Leo-Mia playdate when??🥹❤️ y/n.y/l/n alexandrasaintmleux Mia says tomorrow❤️❤️ logansargeant my fav Piastri is growing up so fast😭 Liked by the author mclaren such a beautiful family🧡 y/n.y/l/n mclaren I remember you trying to break it up 😐😐 mclaren y/n.y/l/n I was following orders, I didn't wanna do it🥲🥲 user1 too many things, I can't process it🤯 user2 he has a girlfriend, a daughter and got engaged all in one post🤯😭 user3🤯🤯🤯🤯 user4 Congratulations Oscar!!🧡🧡🧡 lewishamilton Congratulations you two!! ❤️❤️Mia said Roscoe is the ring bearer Liked by y/n.y/l/n charles_leclerc my beautiful granddaughter😭 user5 the Leclerc family is expanding at an alarming rate😱😱 user6 user5 does that make Leo her uncle??🤔 user7 What's her name?? user8 Mia is the cutest name for the cutest baby😍😍 user9 can't wait to watch her become a formula one driver😪 user10 only known her 2 days but if anything happens to her, I’ll kill everyone and then myself user11 the last picture🤤🤤 we might be getting baby no. 2🤭🤣
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dollaches · 3 months ago
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— once my flame & twice my burn
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♡ mean!professor!ellie williams x fem!student!reader
synopsis: after ellie humiliates you in front of the whole classroom, she desperately tries to find a way to make it up to you before she loses you completely
a/n: this got way out of hand … wrote in like 45 mins idk it sucks im sorry
warnings: DON’T LIKE DON’T READ!!! — sorta angsty at the beginning, mean ellie, professor x student relationship, reader is in COLLEGE!!!, concerning power dynamics lowkey, dom!ellie, sub!reader, manipulation, crying, makeup sex, unhealthy relationships, degrading, pet names (pup used a lot, take it up with god), established relationship, kissing, strap usage, strap referred to as cock lol, fingering (r! receiving), begging, ruined orgasm, sex on the FLOOR!, not proofread at all, do NOT date ur professor ong
wc: 4.4k
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The sound of rain pattering against the classroom window has managed to keep you in a dazed state, your tired eyes focused on the way Ellie’s hands moved as she lectured. The sound of her voice felt so far away but just having her near was enough to bring you solace. 
It was as if you had been operating manually ever since school began, beaten down by all the assignments that were piling up and losing countless hours of sleep in favor of working away on your laptop. Even if you were dating a professor, it was not as if you received any special treatment, as Ellie continuously told you if the school board were to hear about your relationship, both of you could end up in trouble. 
So you kept things private, only giving her shy smiles and allowing your hand to brush against hers as you turn in an assignment. In the privacy of her home, you were all hers. It was hard to keep up such a lie but it was all worth it just to have her, even if no one knew. 
But with the stress of school along with having very little attention from your girlfriend due to her being caught up with grading assignments every night, it began to feel like there was a weight on your chest. You ached for some sort of public affection from her, needing confirmation of her love when you are struggling so much. Even now, she was looking anywhere but in your direction as she spoke, her glasses slightly sliding down her nose as she spoke passionately. 
It felt like a silent rejection and even if you knew you were being irrational, it still hurt you. You finally looked away from her, staring out the window and letting your eyes flutter shut so you could take a few deep breaths. Your peaceful state was quickly interrupted, a loud call of your name making your eyes snap back open as you look towards the front of the room. 
“I do not tolerate sleeping in my classroom. If you are tired, stay home instead of wasting my time��� Ellie snapped, eyes narrowing as they focused on you. You knew Ellie had been just as stressed as you were but you were in complete disbelief that she would take it out on you in front of the classroom. You can’t even offer a proper reply, your eyes staring down at your lap as they begin to grow glassy. Your throat constricts and you pray the people sitting next to you don’t notice the way you are practically gasping for air. 
There was no need to be so cruel, as she knew that you were under just as much stress as she was but she had nowhere else to place her anger. The sight of you hiding your face from her and not even standing up for yourself shoves her back into reality and guilt eats away at her core, leaving her raw and full of fear of her own fuck up. She quickly clears her throat, continuing her lecture but stealing a few glances at you whenever she has the chance. You refused to even look up anymore, shame burning within you. 
You didn’t even notice when Ellie began to stutter, her nerves apparent as she tried to shove down the worry she felt, at least until she could speak to you after class. The clock continued to tick, the world uncaring that you were nearly in the midst of a complete breakdown. You are only brought out of your daze by the sound of people nearby beginning to pack their things up, a sign that class was over. In a feverish manner, you begin to place your belongings in your bag. 
All you know is that you need to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible, silently thanking God that this was your last class of the day. Ellie tried to see you in the crowd of students that were pushing out the door, calling out your name once more so she could have you stay after class to talk, it would give her the chance to apologize before the two of you got back home for the night. 
However, you ignore her completely, not wanting to be a victim of her anger any longer. You rush out of the building as quickly as possible, leaving Ellie to scramble to get her belongings together so she could follow after you. It was no use, as you were long gone, shivering as rain landed on your skin before you reached your car. 
The minute you were in the safety of your car, you let out a quiet sob, still unable to recover from earlier. On top of that, you had so many assignments to get done tonight that you could already feel the way your wrists would be aching by the time you were done. You allow the tears to cascade down your cheeks, your lip quivering even as you begin to drive. No music is played, the need for silence after what you experienced felt completely necessary. 
You simply couldn’t wrap your head around how Ellie could be so careless, the woman you love suddenly seeming to turn on you. It was pre decided that you wouldn’t be going to her house for once, driving towards your home the best you can while tears blur your vision. You couldn’t care less about the constant ringing of your phone, your lips seemingly set in a permanent frown as you park your car. 
After grabbing your bag, you fumble with your keys until you manage to unlock the door and walk into the safety of your home. You had been spending so much time in Ellie’s home that the space now felt cold and unwelcoming, all the lights being off with no signs of life. You flick on a switch, sniffling a few times as you set your belongings down on the table. You reach for your phone, the screen being far too bright for your dimly lit environment. 
You can at least see that Ellie has managed to call you twenty-two times, sending a few messages asking where you were. Unbeknownst to you, Ellie had arrived at her own home, expecting to find you there. Much to her dismay, she was left to panic in the wake of your absence, her hands shaking as she held her phone to her ear. Every time her call went to voicemail she cursed, running a hand through her messy hair. She couldn’t lose you, not now, not ever. 
When her phone pinged, she picked it up so fast she nearly dropped the device onto the floor. As her eyes adjusted, she could recognize your contact name beside a simple message that read “At home. Please stop calling”. The words are enough to make her heart drop into her stomach, as you had never once refused to see her after a fight. It felt different this time, like you were creating walls to keep her out and she felt fucking terrified. 
♡ 
You had settled onto the couch, mindlessly watching television to keep your mind off Ellie even if it was just for a bit. The nerves within your body began to subside, your breathing evening out as you leaned back a bit. You figured that this was the calm after the storm and you might as well enjoy it before it passes you by. 
The sound of someone knocking on your door makes you flinch, turning to face the direction of the front entrance. Your brows furrowed as you realized who it might be, swiftly tuning to face the tv once more just to shut her out. Ellie could feel her heart pounding against her chest, trying to get you to open the door. “Babe? Can we please talk, just for a second” she pleads, knocking harshly enough to make her knuckles ache. With no response from you, she grows desperate, bringing out the water works. 
“Please, I need to see your face, need to tell you how sorry I am” she states, her voice cracking as tears begin to well within her eyes as she purposely uses the saddest voice possible. “It’s so cold out here, angel, please let me inside” she whimpers as if she were a kicked puppy, although this situation was completely her fault. 
You know that the last thing you should do is welcome her into your home but she sounds so lost, so frightened of what she has done. Even if you were mad at her at this moment, she knew just how to get inside your head and ease you back into her arms. Ellie is just about to knock for a third time when she hears the click of the door unlocking right before she finally gets to see you. 
Even in your disheveled state, you looked beautiful enough to make her heart ache. She can’t get over how exhausted you look, as if she had taken every last bit of energy you had. “Hey, there you are” she coos in a warm voice, her tears ceasing within an instant. You can’t help but avoid eye contact with her, not wanting to give in so easily. 
“You can come inside for a bit but you’re not staying” you mutter, turning away and leaving the door ajar so she can come inside to escape the cold. Ellie breathes a sigh of relief, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her with a soft click. She knows she needs to tread lightly, kneeling down to unlace her shoes and placing them near the front door before she turns to face you. 
You’re curled up in the corner of the couch, not even glancing at her as she inches closer to you. She settles beside you, a small gap between the two of you so that she doesn't scare you off. Ellie plays with her fingers, the only way she can soothe herself in a moment with so much tension. 
Before she can even take a breath in to speak, the sound of your quiet voice cuts her off. “I think maybe this isn’t going to work out” you mutter, your eyes transfixed on the tv. “You have a lot going on and I get that, but I’m not your punching bag, Ellie.”
Your words tear through her like a jagged knife, left to bleed out due to her own inability to control her anger. “No— no, no, no” she breathes, sliding down so she can get on her knees in front of you, forcing you to look at her finally. 
“You don’t mean that, you’re just upset” she says in a broken voice, her warm hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Stop telling me how I feel” you huff, trying to yank away from her touch. Ellie is quick to put a stop to your efforts, her grip tightening so that your cheeks are squished together, your lips all pouty.
You can tell by the look in her eyes that she is not pleased with your rejection, her grip almost harsh enough to hurt. “I am not telling you how to feel. I just know what you really want, what you need.” she says in a tone that feigns pity, a sympathetic smile on her lips. 
You simply narrow your eyes at her, resisting the urge to submit to her completely. She coos at the sight of you, pressing a little kiss to the tip of your nose that makes you huff. “I’m sorry, pup, I really am. But you’re breaking my heart here— makin’ me feel like our relationship is dirty” she sighs, loosening her grip since she knows you won’t back away any longer. 
The pet name causes your mind to go fuzzy, your will slowly weakening. “M’ not saying it’s dirty, you’re just… you’re so mean” you mutter, unsure if she would be set off by your words alone. But she remains calm this time, her grip completely fading as she moves your hair out of your face so she can see you properly. “I know I am, I’m so mean aren’t I, baby?” she hums, being playful so she can get you to relax. 
You nod slowly at her words, already feeling yourself melting into a puddle right in the palm of her hand. “Now, you don’t wanna break up with me, do you?” she asks in a gentle voice, a stark difference from how rough she was being with you earlier. You hesitate for a moment, your eyes scanning her features for any sign of malice and yet you find none. 
After you give a small shake of your head to say no, Ellie finally breathes out. “See? I knew you didn’t mean it” she says in a warm tone, caressing your thighs with her strong hands as she looks at you. 
You just keep quiet, feeling a bit ashamed that you are letting her in so easily, her minuscule apology managing to make you forgive her completely. Ellie can tell your mind is beginning to wander and that is the last thing she wants, so she moves back onto the couch, gently turning your head to face her. 
“My pretty girl” she mutters, her thumb gently running along your plush bottom lip that was still sticky with lip gloss. Your body seems to relax under her touch, welcoming the familiar warmth after such a long day. 
She moves closer, letting her lips linger mere inches from yours as she keeps her gaze fixed on you. “You gonna say sorry for hurting me earlier, angel?” she asks, tilting her head in the slightest as if she were about to kiss you, yet it only served to tease you further. 
“I’m sorry” you manage to whisper, not even truly thinking anything of the words, simply wanting to please Ellie in any way possible. She hums in a pleased manner, finally leaning in to give you what you were so desperately craving. 
Her lips felt a little rough against yours, although her movements start off slow and gentle. She cups your face ever so softly, her tongue only teasing your own. She can feel you leaning into her touch, needing her affection more than anything right now. 
She finally lets you push your tongue past her lips, the sloppy sound of the filthy kiss filling the air around the two of you. There is hunger and desperation behind every move she makes, removing one hand from your cheek in favor of pushing you down until you’re laying on the couch, her lips never once leaving yours. 
The idea of losing you was too much to bear and now that she had you wrapped around her finger, she was going to keep you there. She is purposely being messy, lapping at your lips and tongue so that her saliva connects the two of you, a piece of her invading your body so that she can call you hers. 
You moan as she helps you relax into your new position, her knee slipping between your thighs and perfectly nudging your clit through your jeans. The sensation is enough to make you flinch, not expecting the feeling to be so overwhelming. 
When she finally pulls back, there is a thin string of saliva that connects you to one another, a vulgar sign of your unity. You can’t help but let out a protestant huff when her knee eases up, needing the pressure to keep your mind off the fact that the same woman who humiliated you was now making out with you. 
Ellie on the other hand couldn’t be more ecstatic, a sly grin on her lips when she realizes her glasses are all fogged up. “Stupid fuckin’ thing” she mutters as she pulls them off, throwing them onto the coffee table carelessly before she uses the back of her hand to wipe her lips. 
You are left beneath her, a mess of the strong girl you thought yourself to be earlier. “If you want somethin’, you gotta ask for it” she says firmly, purposely pushing her knee up to get a quick gasp out of you before pulling back once more. 
“Need to feel your tongue or just fuck me, I don’t care. Just give me something please” you beg in a voice that is utterly pathetic, broken down by your own selfish desires. Your pleas are like music to her ears, it’s all that she needs to finally give in to your request. 
“On all fours, take off those clothes or I’ll do it myself” she says in a pointed manner, as if she were giving you directions like you were still in her class. You are quick to nod your head, shakily standing to your feet and yanking your clothes off piece by piece until you are left completely bare. 
There’s not enough room for the position on the couch so you simply kneel onto the floor, instinctively arching your back in the slightest as you get on your hands and knees for her. Ellie tsks at the sight, rolling up her sleeves as if she were about to eat a delicious meal and in her opinion, she was. 
“Such a filthy girl, spreading open your cunt for your own professor” she spits, humiliating you all over again, although this time you find that her words go straight to your aching cunt. “S’ not my fault my professor is a perv” you shoot back, still blowing off steam from earlier. 
Your bratty words only make her smile widen, completely used to how mouthy you get after she’s made some sort of fuck up. “But it is your fault that you like it so much” she quips, her hand resting on the small of your back as she gets behind you. 
There’s no time to think of a sharp reply, as one of her thick fingers is already sliding through your slick folds without a single bit of resistance. “Always so wet for me, pup. S’ adorable” she praises, feeling you shudder underneath her touch. 
“N-no teasing today, you’ve been mean enough” you state shakily, trying to stand your ground for once. Your demand makes Ellie scoff, letting her finger get thoroughly soaked by your arousal before pushing in her finger finally. 
You can’t stop the moan that passes your lips, the relief crashing over you and leaving you breathless. “Holy fuck, no matter how many times I fuck you stuid you’re cunt still sucks me in like you’re a goddamn virgin” she states with a cruel chuckle, fucking her finger into you at an unforgiving pace. 
“Shut up” you manage to breathe out, your hips subconsciously moving back in order to match her pace. “Why don’t you make me, hm? What’re you gonna do? Cry till you get your way?” she questions harshly, giving no warning as she pushes in a second finger, your gummy walls so slick that she can fuck you open with ease. 
You can only whimper in response to her mean words, knowing you had no way of making her be quiet when she has you in such a vulnerable position. Ellie wishes she could record you in this moment, maybe even upload it to some porn site with a cliche title like “student gets on all fours for professor”— or something like that at least. 
“Fuck, just like that puppy, keep moving those hips” she says in a breathless voice, so entranced by the way your cunt keeps a vice grip on her fingers as she pushes them in and out. She moves her fingers in a scissoring motion in order to stretch you further, listening to the way your moans grow higher pitched with every thrust of her fingers. 
The pleasure in your body is building and you know it’s not long until you have to let go completely, yet you find yourself embarrassed by how easy it is to make you come when you’re so worked up. 
“Ellie, Els— gonna come, Jesus Christ” you pant, your thighs trembling as you try to keep yourself upright. Ellie clicks her tongue as if in disapproval, her fingers still curling inside you as she speaks. “If you wanna get fucked you better not come, I swear to god I’ll leave you here if you come on my fingers” she says sharply, showing that she is not messing with you at all. 
“But—“ you start, only to let out a cry as she stills her motions so you’re not receiving any stimulation at all. Just as quickly as you felt your high coming on, it fades away in an instant and you nearly collapse from defeat, your orgasm completely ruined. 
You’re a blubbering mess, trying to turn to face Ellie as tears threaten to spill over from how frustrated you are with her. “I was being good!” you practically shout, not truly understanding why she insisted on stopping. 
That is until your eyes lowered, listening to her belt come undone before she unzips her fly. Once she tugs down her boxers, you’re finally staring right at her strap, the one she used on you nearly every night that you never grew tired of. 
“You walk around with that thing on?” you ask in complete shock, your face flushing at the idea of her packing even during class. “Is that a problem with you?” she questions teasingly as she unbuttons her top, leaving her bare besides the heavy strap that hung from her hips. 
“I don’t care, I don’t give a fuck, just please let me come” you beg, pushing your ass up into the air to get what you wanted from her. “Such an eager student, but don’t think you’re getting an A just cause I get to fuck you” she jokes, uncaring that you’re nearly in purgatory from not being able to have a proper orgasm. 
She redeems herself by lining up her cock with your aching entrance, guiding the tip to gently tap against your clit so she can watch the way you jolt from sensitivity. Ellie doesn’t bother asking how you want it tonight, knowing that you’re just desperate to get off at this point. 
She pushes into you, your cunt only resisting due to the thickness of her strap. You let out a string of moans as she sinks into you completely, feeling so full after being empty for so long. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the feeling of her tip kissing your cervix as she bottoms out. 
Within an instant she is moving, thrusting into you like her life depends on it. “Fuck” is all she can pant out as she fucks into you mercilessly, the curve of her cock hitting all the right spots within you. 
You’re down for the count, drool seeping from the corner of your lips as she pounds into you relentlessly. The pleasure begins to build once more and Ellie can tell you are getting close by the way it gets a bit harder to push inside you, your walls tightening around her. 
“You gonna come, angel? Gonna make a mess on my cock like the pathetic girl you are?” she questions, still muttering curses as she uses one hand to spread open your cunt to watch her dick slide in and out of you while her other hand keeps a firm grip on your hip. 
You nod feverishly, knowing that was her way of giving you permission to let go. “Yes! S’ too much, unhh—“ is all you can manage before your words slur into something incoherent. 
Ellie refuses to let up even as you’re coming for her, fucking you through your orgasm and cursing at the sight of the white ring that had now formed at the base of her strap. 
As you come down, you collapse onto the floor, Ellie’s cock sliding out of you as you tremble on the floor, the carpet feeling soothing against your skin. “Thank you” you manage to mutter weakly, gaining a small “aww” from Ellie in response, she undoes her harness as you lay there helplessly, scanning your features for any signs of distress or discomfort but coming up empty. 
Once the item is discarded, she lays down beside you, pulling you close to her own bare body. The skin to skin contact eases you back into reality and you finally feel like you can breathe once more. Ellie is busy pressing kisses against your shoulder, trailing up your neck until she could press a sweet kiss to your lips. 
You look at her with a dazed expression, taking note of how pretty she looked after giving you what might’ve been the best fuck of your life. 
“M’ still mad, y’know” you state, your voice shaking despite your attempt to be firm. “I know, I know. I fucked up. But I’ll keep apologizing till you accept it, I’ll get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness if that’s what you want” she says in a gentle voice, being completely serious. 
She’d do anything as long as it meant getting back in your good graces. “Just give me a few more nights like this and I’ll think about forgiving you” you hum, toying with the ends of her short hair. 
“Sounds very fair, pup” she says in a pleased tone. “Do you need more or are you tired?” she asks in a caring tone, her calloused hand running along your side as she speaks. 
“Sleepy, just wanna shower and go to bed” you sigh, sitting up a bit and glancing at the coffee table. You grab her glasses, putting them on and giving Ellie a fucked out smile. The sight makes Ellie chuckle, her finger coming up to push them up the bridge of your nose so they fit better. 
“Well aren’t you the cutest girl who ever lived” she states playfully. But let’s get you into the shower, alright?” she offers, pulling the glasses off your face and setting them down once more so she can help you up. 
As you lean against her on the way to the bathroom, you can’t help but think of how likely it was that she would take out her anger on you again. You knew the relationship you shared with your professor wasn’t healthy but there was no one else in the world you’d rather have.
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mattybsgroupie · 2 months ago
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jealous | matt sturniolo
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contents: established relationship; cursing; face slapping & spanking (f receiving); fingering (f receiving); p in v; creampie; dom!matt
♡⊹𑄽୧
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: i’m… back? thank you for not giving up on me. y’all are my whole world. i'm rusty, i apologize for any mistakes but this is not proofread as usual and also i’ve been horny that’s the only reason for dom!matt, we’re back with the sub agenda next week ♡ and happy birthday to my best friend @ivammbb!
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“have you had enough?” matt hissed as soon as i stepped back into our room. i frowned my eyebrows, wondering what he referred to. “what was so fun?”
“what are you talking about?” i asked with a confused look with my face, but not bothering with matt’s attitude. i kept texting on my phone as i made my way to our bed, laying down next to him.
“you were hysterical” he said, sitting up and resting his back against the headboard. “are you friends that much better than your boyfriend?”
oh.
he was jealous.
“anything wrong with that?” i responded, leaving my phone on the nightstand and looking at him.
“oh” matt scratched his freshly shaven beard and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “you like it, don’t you?” i tried hiding a smile, but the corners of my mouth betrayed me, my top teeth biting the flesh of my lower lip.
matt noticed i was enjoying it. the good time i had with my friends, but also his jealousy. he brought his hand to my neck, wrapping his fingers around it and gently pressing my skin “you’re such an attention whore”
i didn’t protest and allowed him to keep holding my neck, my chest suddenly starting to rise in search of air. he loosened his grip, but didn’t let go, rolling over and getting on top of me.
matt’s body was warm, as if his blood had been rushing the whole time i wasn’t with him. his licked his lips and adjusted himself, moving one his legs to in between my thighs, his knee resting under my covered pussy.
“isn’t my attention enough?” he asked, not expecting an answer as he immediately went for a kiss, smashing our lips together in a desperate seal. “no” i mumbled. “i like their attention as well” i teased when he pulled away from the kiss, feeling a sudden slap on my left cheek.
i opened my mouth, but another slap came. matt’s large hand landed across my face, his long fingers quickly caressing the area, not wanting to actually hurt me. he brushed his thumb on my burning cheek before placing it on my lower lip, pulling it apart from the top one.
i instinctively reached for his finger, allowing matt to put it inside my mouth so i could start sucking. “not talking back right now are you?” he said, a grin growing wide on his face.
i denied with my head, continuing to suck as he replaced his thumb with his index and middle fingers, blue eyes watching me underneath him.
matt slowly brought his knee upwards, pressing himself against my already wet pussy. the slaps and the way he talked, the mean words along with his touches were enough to get me worked up.
matt removed his fingers off of my mouth, turning his attention to my neck. he placed a few pecks there, traveling around my shoulders before coming back to a particular spot, kissing it deeply and sucking on my bare skin. i
knew he was going to leave a hickey, and i knew that’s what he wanted — to mark me as his. only his.
my fingers immediately gripped on his brown locks when his palm went to my breast, groping my flesh and teasing my nipple over my shirt. i moaned, both in pleasure and frustration, pulling his hair and receiving a groan in response.
“can’t keep your mouth shut?” matt teased, but the attitude disappeared as soon as i gave him a pleading look, my eyes begging for him to touch me properly. he chuckled at how i rubbed my own cunt against his covered knee and how my hardened nubs poked through the shirt, revealing how needy he had gotten me.
“my needy girl” he whispered and helped me to undress, leaving me completely bare below him before also taking off his own clothes. “only mine, right?” he asked, the slight change in his tone asking for reassurance instead of demanding an answer.
“yours” i whispered back, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as he continued to mark my body with bites and hickeys.
matt stopped by my breasts once again, giving my nipple a kitten lick before latching his lips around my swollen nub, sucking it fiercely, as if he was hungry for something. he could spend hours like that, kissing my skin and lazily dragging his cock across my thighs.
matt placed both of his hands on each side of my hips, creating a trail of kisses to my lower belly. he stopped and smirked at me, giving two light taps on my thighs, silently asking me to spread them apart.
i could feel matt's breath lightly slipping from his nose, as if he was chuckling while he watched my bare pussy throbbing for him. matt gave a long lick on my clit, swirling his tongue around it and placing a kiss there, quickly pulling away. i whimpered, getting impatient with all the teasing — but i knew he was gonna take ‘his own time with me’, as he would always say when i complained about taking too long.
tightening the grip on my hips, matt easily flipped me over, pressing my chest against the mattress. i felt a sudden slap coming from him, this time on my ass. i gasped and threw my head back, his large palm caressing the place he had hit, preparing me for another smack. “you gotta learn who you belong to” he said.
“i’m sorry— ah!” i tried to speak, but his hand against my ass interrupted me, making me whimper as the burning sensation started. “just gotta tell me” he repeated, “who do you belong to?”
“you, matt! fuck!” i moaned as he gave me now lighter, quicker slaps, soothing the redness on my skin.
“there you go” matt praised me, admiring his work and running his fingers through my hair. “now tell me” he started, hovering over me and allowing me to roll on the mattress, my back resting against the countless pillows we had. “who owns that pretty pussy, hm?” matt whispered, his long fingers traveling in between my thighs.
“you do” i said mindlessly, moving my hips downwards, desperate to get some relief to my aching cunt. he smirked at my reaction, wanting one last answer from me.
“who’s the only one that makes you cum?” i choked on a moan when matt finished the question and his digits suddenly met my wet folds.
“you matt, you you you” i repeated like a mantra as he started to push his fingers inside my tight hole, the wetness making it easier for him to slide in. i let my mouth hang open, arching my back when he curled his fingers, reaching my sweet spot in a few lazy thrusts.
“me, right?” he said, boosting his own ego. matt slowly removed his fingers from me and positioned himself on my entrance, pumping his shaft a few times to spread the pre-cum that had leaked.
i squeezed my eyes shut when i felt his cock entering me and stretching my walls. matt lowered his body, gluing his chest to mine, holding his weight by placing forearms against the mattress. he raised his hand near my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and sealing our lips together as he buried himself inside of me.
matt gradually started to fasten his pace, thrusting his hips forward and breathing heavily. “my pretty girl” he muffled, hiding his face on the crook of my neck and trying to cover his moans by kissing my skin — until he reached my spot, making me arch my back and moan loudly, clenching against his length.
“please” i begged, biting his shoulder and trying to hold my release. “please, i’m g-gonna…”
“cum for me” he gave me permission, mindlessly pounding into me, reaching for his own high. my orgasm suddenly washed over me, making my whole body tremble, my chest panting heavily as my pussy clenched against matt’s cock. it was enough to make him cum in a loud groan, painting my walls white with long ropes of cum, releasing his load.
matt slowed the pace of his thrusts as he finished inside of me, his body collapsing over mine. i scratched his back, helping him to come back to his senses.
“‘m sorry” matt mumbled. “if i hurt you” he said, the puppy look on his blue eyes making me chuckle.
“you didn’t hurt me” i assured him. “you’re just a jealous boy” i teased, cupping his cheeks and giving him a peck on his lips.
he was my jealous boy, and i was his girl. only his.
♡⊹𑄽୧
taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @karttpet @ivammbb
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brunchable · 2 months ago
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How's retirement, Bucky? | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Themes: Funny. Bucky trying to find things to do to kill time, while also being a menace to Y/N and the neighbours. Prequel to 'Ouch, My face.'
Summary: Bucky decides to retire and leave the super hero world behind, but now he doesn't know how to be normal citizen.
A/N: Just another scenario tha rudely popped into my head. . .
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Bucky Barnes was retired.
It still felt strange, even after months of settling into a life of quiet mornings and unhurried afternoons. He had fought in wars, spent decades as an agent of chaos, and dedicated years to redemption and healing. Now, here he was—waking up whenever he pleased, making breakfast in a house that didn’t have bullet-proof glass windows or a panic room, and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his day.
Today, like most others, started off simple enough: a run through the neighbourhood, a cup of coffee, and a lazy scan of the news. He’d even managed to fix the leaky faucet that had been bothering you for weeks, earning a soft kiss on the cheek as a reward.
But then… the day stretched on. There were no missions, no tactical planning, no world to save. Just the quiet ticking of the clock and the gentle hum of suburban life around him.
So, Bucky set his sights on something—or rather, someone—far more interesting: annoying you.
And thus began the saga of Bucky Barnes’ Retirement Phases.
Phase 1: The Handyman Hero Phase
Duration: One Month
Bucky started off strong, becoming the ultimate handyman of the household. Everything was fair game for improvement. Leaky faucets, creaky floorboards, wobbly shelves—if there was a screw to tighten, Bucky was on it like a well-oiled machine.
“Bucky, what are you doing?” you asked one morning, sipping your coffee as you watched him carefully measuring the distance between each picture frame on the living room wall.
“Making sure they’re exactly one inch apart,” he said without looking up, his voice deadly serious.
“Why?”
“Because last night, I noticed this one—” he pointed to a frame on the far left “—was slightly off-center, and it’s been bothering me ever since.”
You blinked. “Bucky, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s one and a quarter inch apart. Do you know what happens when things aren’t balanced?” He gave you a haunted look, as if you’d just suggested destabilizing the world order.
“Chaos,” you muttered.
“Exactly.”
Within weeks, Bucky had rebuilt half the house, repainted the walls (twice), and installed a state-of-the-art security system that even Tony Stark would envy. You came home one day to find the couch moved three inches to the left, the coffee table completely gone (“I dismantled it; we don’t need it”), and Bucky seriously contemplating whether the kitchen would look better with marble or granite countertops.
“Bucky,” you said slowly, trying to remain calm, “I’m begging you—stop fixing things.”
He blinked at you. “What do you want me to do then?”
You panicked. “Anything. Just—find a hobby!”
He gave a solemn nod, as if you’d just entrusted him with a new mission. “Okay. A hobby. Got it.”
You breathed a sigh of relief. If only you’d known what was coming next.
Phase 2: The Google Scholar Phase
Duration: Two Weeks
With his newfound free time, Bucky discovered the internet. And when Bucky Barnes discovers the internet, chaos ensues.
It started innocently enough. You’d come home to find him glued to his laptop, his brows furrowed in concentration.
“What are you doing?” you asked, setting down your bag.
“Research,” he said ominously, fingers flying over the keys.
“Research on… what?”
He glanced up, his eyes wide. “Did you know sharks have been around longer than trees?”
“Uh—”
“And that banana slugs can grow up to 9 inches long?” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s a whole website dedicated to weird animal facts. I’ve been reading for hours.”
And so, you were subjected to two weeks of nonstop trivia.
“Hey, Y/N!” he’d shout from the kitchen. “Did you know an octopus has three hearts?”
Or: “Did you know cows have best friends?”
And: “Do you want to hear about the deepest point in the ocean?”
“Not really—”
“It’s called the Mariana Trench, and it’s seven miles down!”
You tried banning Wikipedia, but he just switched to obscure forums. You blocked YouTube, and he found a random chicken fact blog. The worst part? He’d share his newfound knowledge with anyone who’d listen.
“I’m calling Sam,” you muttered one evening after hearing Bucky recite the entire history of the humble potato to the mailman. “You need social intervention.”
Phase 3: The Home Décor Perfectionist Phase
Duration: Two Exasperating Weeks
Denied access to his newfound internet pursuits, Bucky turned to interior design. You were caught off guard one Saturday morning when he asked, “What do you think of paisley?”
“What’s a paisley?”
“Pattern. I’m thinking of reupholstering the couch.”
“Bucky, no—”
Too late. Within days, every room was a different colour. You came home to find polka-dotted curtains in the bathroom, and he’d somehow managed to install a chandelier in the laundry room.
“Bucky, why is there a 10-foot mirror in the hallway?”
“It makes the space feel bigger.”
“Bucky, this is a two-bedroom house!”
He paused, squinting at the living room wall. “I think the polka dots need to go.”
You nearly wept with relief when he announced he was moving on to the garden.
Phase 4: The Amateur Detective Phase
Duration: One Overly Suspicious Month
After redecorating the entire house, Bucky set his sights on the neighborhood.
“Y/N, did you see that guy across the street?” he whispered one morning, peering through the blinds with a pair of binoculars.
“That’s Mr. Henderson. He’s eighty-five.”
“Yeah, and he’s up to something. No one goes to the mailbox that often.”
“Maybe he likes getting his mail?”
“I’m telling you, something’s not right.” He tapped the binoculars. “I’m gonna get to the bottom of it.”
And so began Operation: Neighborhood Watch. Every delivery truck was scrutinised. Every dog walker received a full background check. The poor Girl Scouts who came to sell cookies left looking slightly shell-shocked.
The Girl Scout Incident: When Bucky Barnes Met Thin Mints
The Girl Scout incident started out innocent enough—just a kid selling cookies to the neighborhood. But when Bucky Barnes answered the door, things took a turn.
It was a sunny Saturday morning. You were in the kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when you heard the doorbell ring. Before you could even get up to check, Bucky’s voice echoed from the living room.
“I got it!” he called out, already making his way to the front door.
Curious, you peeked around the corner just in time to see him open it. Standing on the porch was a sweet-looking little girl, no more than nine or ten, decked out in her green uniform, clutching a clipboard and flashing a bright, eager smile.
“Hi, mister!” she chirped, clearly undeterred by the stern look on Bucky’s face. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies today?”
You watched as Bucky’s expression softened just a bit, his head tilting to the side in confusion.
“Cookies?” he repeated, as if she’d just offered him nuclear launch codes.
“Yep!” She held up a laminated chart with pictures of the various cookies, pointing to each one with a tiny, rainbow-colored pen. “We have Thin Mints, Tagalongs, Samoas—uh, I mean, Caramel deLites—”
He squinted at the chart, clearly trying to make sense of it all. “Why would you need to sell cookies?”
You nearly face-palmed. Oh no.
The girl’s enthusiasm didn’t waver. “It’s a fundraiser! To support our troop activities and trips.”
“Fundraiser?” Bucky’s voice dropped suspiciously. “Who’s your troop leader?”
The girl blinked, a little taken aback. “Uh, Mrs. Patterson?”
“Uh-huh. And how many boxes of these so-called ‘cookies’ are you supposed to sell?”
Her smile wavered just a fraction. “Um, as many as possible?”
Bucky crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “And where does all this money go?”
“Bucky—” you tried to interrupt, stepping forward, but he held up a hand without looking back, eyes still locked on the bewildered Girl Scout.
“It goes to our troop!” she answered nervously, glancing down at her clipboard as if for reassurance. “For badges and supplies and—”
“Supplies,” Bucky echoed, his tone suddenly sharp. “What kind of supplies?”
“Uh… arts and crafts…?” she stammered, clearly starting to get uncomfortable.
“Arts and crafts?” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “Or something else?”
You saw the poor girl’s eyes widen, her grip tightening on her clipboard as if she was contemplating using it as a shield.
“Bucky, stop,” you hissed, stepping forward to intervene. But he was on a roll now.
“Who gets the money, huh?” He narrowed his eyes, peering down at her like she was an enemy combatant. “Do you get it?
“Or does it go to some mysterious ‘troop leader’ who’s hiding behind a desk somewhere, raking in profits from innocent cookie sales?”
“M-Mister, it’s just cookies,” she squeaked, glancing nervously at the boxes stacked beside her. “We just wanna go camping this summer.”
“Camping?” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. “And what kind of ‘camping’ are we talking about here? Deep-woods recon training? SERE training?”
The girl blinked up at him, clearly having no idea what he was talking about.
“Bucky, she’s nine!” you practically shouted, rushing over to save the poor child from what was rapidly escalating into a full-blown interrogation.
“But Y/N, this could be—”
“It’s not a conspiracy, Bucky!” you snapped, turning to the girl and giving her what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Sweetie, how much for a box of Thin Mints?”
“Uh… f-five dollars?” she stammered, still eyeing Bucky like he might suddenly sprout fangs.
You reached for your wallet, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and handing it to her. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you, ma’am!” she squeaked, stuffing the money into her pouch with trembling hands.
You shot Bucky a glare. “Apologize.”
He crossed his arms, looking mulish. “But—”
“Bucky.”
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Uh… sorry… for, um… asking about your troop leader and, uh… the money laundering?”
The girl blinked up at him, clearly not following.
“Bucky!” you hissed, elbowing him sharply.
“I mean, sorry for… for… being weird,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
The girl gave a hesitant nod, glancing back at her stack of cookies. “Um… would you like another box, mister?”
Bucky frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe. Which one’s the best?”
“Bucky—” you started, but he was already leaning down, listening intently as the girl launched into a detailed explanation of the flavour profiles of Samoas versus Tagalongs.
Twenty minutes later, Bucky was the proud owner of a dozen boxes of Girl Scout cookies, which the girl somehow managed to upsell him into buying. The look of relief on her face as she walked away was palpable.
You turned to Bucky, hands on your hips. “Really, Buck?”
“What?” he said defensively, clutching his armful of cookies. “I needed to make sure it was legit!”
“Uh-huh. And that’s why we now have enough cookies to feed an army?”
He shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I guess I got carried away.”
“Just… try not to scare any more children, okay?”
“Hey, I was just being thorough,” he muttered, glancing down at the boxes. “Besides… these ‘Samoas’ are actually pretty good.”
You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Because only Bucky Barnes could turn a simple cookie sale into a full-scale interrogation—and then end up buying out the entire stock.
“Whatever you say, Bucky. Whatever you say.”
He gave you a sheepish grin, holding up a box of Thin Mints. “Want one?”
“Sure,” you sighed, reaching out to grab a cookie. Because, at the end of the day, this was Bucky Barnes: ex-assassin, super-soldier, and now… terrifyingly dedicated Girl Scout cookie connoisseur.
The Girl Scout incident, unfortunately, didn’t mark the end of Bucky’s neighbourhood watch endeavours.
“Hey, Y/N, that’s the third day in a row Mrs. Higginson has gone jogging past our house,” Bucky muttered a few days later, scribbling furiously in his notebook.
You glanced over from your spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” you replied absently, already wondering if now would be a good time to text Steve for a little ‘rescue mission.’ “Maybe she likes jogging?”
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not natural. It’s a cover for something. Probably espionage.”
“Bucky, she’s seventy.”
“Exactly. No one that age moves like that. She’s gotta be a retired agent.”
“Or she’s trying to stay in shape?”
“Or she’s spying on us.” He narrowed his eyes, peering through the blinds. “Maybe she’s HYDRA.”
“Bucky, she brought us homemade banana bread last week.”
“Which tasted suspiciously good,” he muttered darkly, tapping his pen against his chin. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”
It didn’t stop there. He began obsessively tracking patterns—when neighbors took out their trash, when they left for work, who picked up their mail first thing in the morning. His conspiracy board rivaled the one you’d seen at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, complete with photos, string, and a suspiciously large map of the neighborhood.
“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”
You blinked, looking up from your book. “What’s up, Buck?”
He leaned in, his voice low and serious. “Did you know Mrs. Patterson’s dog peed on our lawn three times this week?”
“I—what?”
“And Mr. Thompson left his house twice yesterday. Twice.”
“…is that a crime?”
“Yes. Who leaves the house twice in one day? He’s clearly up to something.”
“Like… groceries?”
Bucky frowned. “No. Something bigger. I saw him walking to his car, get this—without any bags.”
“Maybe he forgot something?”
He shook his head, eyes narrowed. “It’s a diversion tactic. I’m keeping a close watch on him.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re stalking the neighbours.”
“Of course not!” He paused. “I’m… observing. For science.”
“For science?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Buck. I’m putting my foot down,” you finally managed. “You need to stop this. The neighbours think we’re crazy. You’re scaring the kids and… the mailman won’t come to the door anymore.”
Bucky looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”
“Because you interrogated him about his route last week!”
“He was being shady!”
“He’s a mailman!”
There was a long pause as you stared each other down, Bucky looking defiant and you looking exhausted. Finally, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.
“Buck… I know retirement is hard. But you need a new outlet. Maybe something a little less—”
“Paranoid?” he offered, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. And a little less terrifying for the neighbours.”
He sighed deeply, like you’d just asked him to hang up his shield all over again. “I was just… trying to be useful.”
Your heart softened immediately. Because that was what it all boiled down to, wasn’t it? The man who’d spent his life fighting wars and doing battle against his own mind was now left trying to figure out how to fit into a world that no longer needed him to save it.
You walked over, placing your hands on his shoulders and giving him a soft smile. “You’re always useful, Buck. Even if you’re not interrogating the mailman about federal postal regulations or… spying on seventy-year-old retirees.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, huh?”
“A little,” you agreed with a grin. “Maybe you should find something else to watch over.”
“Like what?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.
You bit your lip, thinking. “I don’t know… Maybe get a pet? You could… I don’t know, babysit a cat or something.”
Bucky blinked at you. Then his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the Holy Grail of retirement activities.
“A cat,” he murmured slowly, as if testing the word. “A cat.”
“Yes, a cat,” you repeated cautiously, wondering if you’d just unleashed some new kind of havoc on the house. “You could train it to… I don’t know, not scratch the furniture or something.”
“Or… I could train it to keep an eye on the pigeons,” he muttered to himself, looking thoughtful.
“Wait, what?”
But Bucky had already gone inside, the gears in his mind clearly turning. You shook your head, deciding to let him have this one. After all, how much trouble could he really get into with a cat?
Phase 5: The Pet Phase (aka Operation: Find a Feline Friend)
Duration: Ongoing, with Fur Everywhere
You didn’t think he’d take it seriously. Until you came home the next day to find Bucky sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, a small, white ball of fluff curled up in his lap.
“This is Alpine,” he announced proudly.
You stared at the kitten, then at Bucky, then back at the kitten. “Bucky, what… why…?”
“You said get a pet,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I did.”
And that’s how Alpine, the grumpy old woman in a cat’s body, became part of your household. Bucky spent weeks trying to train him (“Sit, Alpine! Sit! … Okay, fine, just glare at me, that works too.”), set up elaborate obstacle courses (“Alpine, jump! No, don’t walk away—okay, you know what, just do your thing”), and spoiled her rotten with toys and treats.
With each phase, Bucky’s retirement became a new adventure. And while it drove you absolutely crazy at times, you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Bucky lying on the couch, Alpine curled up on his chest, both looking completely content.
“Retirement isn’t so bad, huh?” you teased one evening, curling up beside him.
He hummed thoughtfully, scratching behind Alpine’s ears. “I don’t know… I think I could use a new project.”
You groaned, but your groan turned into a laugh when he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh no,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “No more projects, Barnes. You’ve nearly redecorated us out of house and home, scared the mailman half to death, and—”
“Don’t forget the gourmet cookies,” he interjected with a cheeky smile.
You shot him a playful glare. “I’m trying to forget the cookies, thank you.”
“Aw, come on. I think I finally got the recipe down. I’ll just try one more—”
“No!” you practically shouted, your voice echoing through the living room. Alpine, unbothered, merely lifted her head, gave you both a disinterested look, and went back to napping.
Bucky chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No more cookies. No more redecorating. No more… scaring the Girl Scouts.”
“Or spying on the neighbors.”
“Or spying on the neighbors,” he agreed, still looking a little too amused for your liking.
You sighed, leaning back into the couch and resting your head on his shoulder. “You know, most people take up hobbies like gardening or painting in retirement.”
Bucky nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but those aren’t as exciting.”
“They’re not supposed to be exciting. They’re supposed to be calm. That’s the whole point of retirement, Buck.”
He glanced down at you, his gaze softening. “You really think I’m the ‘calm’ type, doll?”
You snorted. “No, not really. But it would be nice if, just once, I didn’t come home to find you plotting to build a moat around the house.”
“Moats are an excellent defense mechanism,” he said matter-of-factly. “But okay, I get it. I’ll tone it down.”
You gave him a skeptical look. “You promise?”
“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up his right hand. The glint in his eye, however, told you he was already planning something new.
“Bucky…”
“What?” he asked, all innocence. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not for a second.”
He chuckled, then pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Alright, no more projects. I’ll just focus on Alpine. She’s a full-time job anyway.”
You glanced at the cat, who was now sprawled out like she owned the place. “You’ve turned her into a diva, you know.”
“He’s just refined,” Bucky said defensively. “He’s got standards.”
“Uh-huh. Like the way he refuses to eat unless you hand-feed her?”
“Refined,” Bucky insisted.
“And how she sleeps on your side of the bed and shoves you off with her tiny, evil paws?”
“Selective.”
“And how she sits on the counter staring at you like she’s plotting your demise?”
“Observant.”
You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’ve created a monster, Bucky.”
“Eh,” he said with a shrug, smirking down at you. “I’ve handled worse monsters. She’s a good one. Besides,” he added, scratching Alpine’s head fondly, “she’s family.”
Your heart softened at his words, and you smiled up at him. “Yeah, I guess she is.”
There was a comfortable silence as you both sat there, content in the peaceful moment.
Then Bucky cleared his throat, and you glanced up to see him shifting slightly, like he was working up the nerve to say something.
“So… I was thinking…” he began slowly.
“Bucky.”
“No, no, hear me out,” he said quickly, raising his hands as if to ward off your incoming refusal. “What if we… I dunno… made a baby?”
You blinked, certain you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”
“A baby,” he repeated, his voice steady, though there was a telltale blush creeping up his neck. “You know, a little human—our human. Someone we can train to take over the world… or at least keep me entertained.”
Your jaw dropped open. “You want to have a baby—because you’re bored?”
Bucky gave you a sheepish grin. “I mean, I was thinking it could be a good project… long-term investment… future troublemaker…”
“Bucky,” you interrupted, placing your hands on his shoulders and staring at him, bewildered. “Are you seriously suggesting having a child like it’s another DIY project?”
He shrugged, looking as nonchalant as ever, but his eyes were soft and serious. “Maybe. But I was also thinking it’d be nice to have something, or someone, that’s just… ours. A mix of you and me. Something that isn’t tied to the past, or fighting, or… all the other stuff.”
You stared at him, trying to wrap your mind around the sudden turn the conversation had taken. “You really want a baby, Bucky?”
He nodded slowly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I do. Don’t get me wrong, Alpine’s great and all, but…” He sighed, his smile turning tender. “I just think it’d be amazing to have something more. I’ve spent so much of my life taking orders or fighting ghosts. But starting a family with you? That’s something I get to build. Something that’s ours.”
You bit your lip, heart swelling at his words. Despite the completely unromantic way he’d suggested it, there was sincerity in his gaze, a yearning for something deeper than fixing leaky faucets or buying out the Girl Scouts’ entire cookie stock.
“And you think you’d be a good dad?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Please,” he scoffed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’d be the best damn dad. I’d teach our kid how to throw a proper punch by age five, dismantle a toaster by six—”
You laughed, shaking your head. “So, what you’re saying is… you want to raise a tiny super-soldier?”
His grin widened. “Hell yeah.”
“Bucky, we are not turning our child into a mini-Winter Soldier.”
He pouted dramatically. “Not even a little bit?”
“Not even a little bit,” you affirmed with a chuckle. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “But… maybe we could talk about it. You know, actually talk. Not just… plan a tactical baby mission.”
Bucky’s eyes softened as he brushed his thumb along your cheek. “Yeah. We can talk about it.” He paused, then added with a mischievous glint, “After we practice a little more.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh my God, Bucky.”
“What?” he asked innocently, his grin widening. “Practice makes perfect, right?”
You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you love me for it,” he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.
“Yeah,” you whispered when he pulled away, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I do.”
You glanced down at Alpine, who was still sprawled across Bucky’s lap, looking utterly uninterested in the conversation. A baby. You hadn’t really thought about it seriously before, but now that Bucky had put the idea in your head… you couldn’t help but wonder.
There was a brief pause as Bucky gazed at you, his expression growing thoughtful. “You know,” he began quietly, “after that whole Girl Scout cookie fiasco… I kinda started thinking… I’d really like to have a daughter.”
You blinked at him, surprised. “A daughter?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softening. “That kid was just so… brave, you know? Standing there, staring me down even though I was being a total idiot. It reminded me of you—fierce and unafraid. I couldn’t stop thinking… what if we had a daughter like that? Strong, smart, and completely capable of putting me in my place when I get out of line.”
You felt your heart clench at his words, his quiet admission making your chest ache. “You want a little girl because she’d keep you in check?”
“That,” he said, smiling softly, “and I think I’d like the challenge. I’ve spent so much of my life dealing with people who only saw me as a weapon. I just… want to prove that I can be something else. That I can be gentle… and kind… and love someone unconditionally. The way I love you.”
You reached up, cupping his face gently. “Bucky, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“I know,” he murmured, his gaze warm and intense. “But I still want to try. And I want to be the kind of dad who isn’t just a protector, but a friend. Someone who’d sit through endless tea parties and help her build pillow forts… and buy all the Girl Scout cookies she wants without scaring anyone.”
You laughed softly, tears stinging your eyes at the picture he painted. “You’d be a great dad, Bucky.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and hopeful.
“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling up at him.
There was another beat of silence before Bucky leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “So… when do we start?”
You felt your cheeks heat, a mix of laughter and surprise bubbling up in your chest. “Bucky!”
“What?” he asked, his smile as innocent as ever. “I’m just asking. I mean, you know I’m a man of action. Gotta have a timeline.”
“Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands as Bucky laughed softly, his arms wrapping around you.
“Okay, okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “No rush. We’ll take it one day at a time, sweetheart. But just know… I’m ready whenever you are.”
And somehow, you knew this next phase—whatever it looked like—was going to be the best one yet.
× × × ×
Ten months later
The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the nursery in a warm, golden hue, casting gentle shadows on the pale blue walls. The room was still, save for the quiet creak of the rocking chair as Bucky swayed back and forth, holding the tiniest bundle of joy in his strong, yet tender arms.
His daughter, barely a week old, was nestled against his chest, her small, delicate breaths in sync with the steady rhythm of his own. Her tiny fist curled around the fabric of his shirt, as if she knew just how safe and loved she was in her daddy's arms.
Bucky hummed quietly, the familiar melody of an old lullaby drifting into the air. It was a song his mother used to sing to him when he was no older than his sweet little girl was now. The words came softly, almost whispered, as if they were sacred—meant only for his daughter.
“Darling, you're my bloodYou have my heartbeatYou have my heartbeat, beating loud,”
His voice was gruff, yet softened by emotion as he sang, the gentle rocking lulling his daughter further into her peaceful slumber. His fingers brushed through her soft, downy hair as he looked down at her with nothing short of awe. How had he, of all people, gotten so lucky?
He had been through so much darkness in his life—seen and done things he would never be able to forget—but here, in this quiet moment, everything seemed to fade away. The world outside could wait. Right now, his whole universe was cradled in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky Barnes felt at peace.
Unbeknownst to him, you stood at the door, your heart swelling at the sight before you. You had come to check on them both, worried that Bucky might need help with the baby. But when you saw him there, rocking your little girl and singing so sweetly, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt.
A soft smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against the doorframe, content to watch the love of your life in this vulnerable, beautiful moment. 
Bucky was a natural, even if he didn’t believe it. You had seen the worry in his eyes when you first brought your daughter home—the fear that he wouldn’t be good enough, that he wouldn’t know what to do. But here he was, proving himself wrong in the most heart-melting way possible.
The lullaby continued, each note filled with so much love it made your eyes mist over.
"You are my lighthouseA peak of light from the dark cloudsI've lived under my whole life. . .And there's nothing I won't do for you."
Bucky’s voice cracked just a little on the last line, overcome with emotion as he gazed down at his daughter and carefully wiped his tears away. 
She had his eyes—bright and full of wonder, even when they were closed in slumber. He couldn’t help but trace the delicate features of her face with his gaze, committing every tiny detail to memory.
Finally, you couldn’t resist any longer. You stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to startle him. Bucky looked up, surprise flickering across his face when he saw you standing there. His expression softened when he realised you had been watching him.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, his voice low so as not to wake the baby.
“Long enough,” you replied, your smile widening as you walked over to him.
Bucky blushed, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not exactly a professional.”
“I beg to differ, I think you’re the best dad in the world.” you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple. 
Bucky’s heart swelled at your words. He never imagined he would be here—sitting in a nursery, holding his newborn daughter while the love of his life stood beside him, calling him the best dad in the world. It still felt like a dream.
“She’s so small,” he murmured, looking back down at the baby. “So fragile. I didn’t think…I didn’t think I could love someone I barely knew this much.”
Your hand gently rested on his shoulder as you gazed down at your daughter. “You’ve got a big heart, James. I always knew you’d be amazing as a father.”
He glanced up at you, eyes soft and full of affection. “You’re the amazing one.”
You reached out to gently stroke the baby’s cheek, and Bucky leaned into your touch, feeling more complete than he ever thought possible.
“I never thought I’d have this,” he admitted after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “A family. A reason to feel…whole again.”
You knelt down beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. “You deserve it, Bucky. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
Bucky kissed the top of youe head, holding you close as he continued to rock your daughter. The world outside could be chaotic and unforgiving, but in this room, in this moment, everything was perfect.
× × × ×
Baby at six months
The house was peaceful, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the windows. You were out running errands, leaving Bucky home with their now six-month-old daughter, who was currently kicking her chubby little legs and babbling on her playmat. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she reached for her favorite stuffed bear, the one Bucky had given her the day she was born.
Bucky sat beside her, legs crossed, watching her every move like she was the most fascinating thing on the planet. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. 
“You know, blossom,” he began, glancing over his shoulder dramatically as if checking to make sure Y/N wasn’t around. “Your mom thinks she’s the boss.”
Their daughter let out a high-pitched squeal, and Bucky grinned. 
“Right? Can you believe it?” he continued, keeping his voice low as if sharing the biggest secret in the world. “She thinks she’s in charge around here. But between you and me, we know the truth.”
His little girl giggled again, her tiny hands grasping at the air as if she was agreeing with him.
“See, you and I?” Bucky said, tapping his finger gently on her nose, “We’re a team. We know how to get things done. I mean, just look at us—surviving nap time, figuring out how to stack those weird little ring toys, and we don’t even need to look at the instructions. Meanwhile, your mom still thinks I can’t fold laundry properly.”
He paused for dramatic effect, raising his brows. “Can you believe that? Laundry. I fought in World War II, and she’s worried I’ll mess up the towels.”
His daughter let out a delighted shriek, her little legs kicking excitedly. Bucky reached over and tickled her belly gently, making her burst into even more giggles.
“Oh, yeah, I know you think it’s funny,” Bucky chuckled. “But trust me, your mom’s got some pretty high laundry standards. I tried to fold one towel, just one, and she came over with this look like I’d committed a crime. 'Bucky, that’s not how you fold them!' she said. And I’m standing there like, ‘It’s a towel, not a top-secret mission.’”
He leaned in closer, as if telling her something top-secret. “She doesn’t know this, but I might’ve folded them wrong on purpose so I wouldn’t have to do it anymore.”
His daughter cooed, her tiny hand reaching out to grab his finger, which she promptly brought to her mouth to chew on. Bucky let her, his heart melting at the sight. She was his little sidekick, always hanging on his every word, even if she didn’t fully understand yet.
“And don’t even get me started on the bedtime routine,” Bucky continued, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “Your mom’s got this whole plan—bath, story, lights out. Meanwhile, you and me? We’ve got a better plan. We chill, we rock, maybe sing a little. You get all cozy, and bam—out like a light.”
“Bababababa,” His daughter babbled something back at him, her little voice full of enthusiasm, and Bucky nodded seriously. 
“Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying. We’ve got this figured out.”
He scooped her up from the mat and held her close, her head resting comfortably against his chest as he walked them over to the couch. He sat down, cradling her in his arms, and continued his lighthearted rant.
“And the thing is, she’s always right, which drives me crazy. Like, the other day, she told me you were gonna try to crawl soon. I thought, ‘Nah, she’s too young.’ But then what happens? Two days later, you’re scooting around like you’ve got places to be. I swear, your mom’s a psychic or something.”
Bucky gazed down at his daughter, who was now looking up at him with those wide blue eyes that never failed to melt his heart. She let out a happy gurgle, and Bucky chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.
“You know I’m just kidding, right? Your mom’s the best. She takes care of both of us.” He sighed, feeling a rush of affection as he thought about Y/N. “Don’t tell her, but I’m pretty lucky to have her. She keeps me in line.”
Just then, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and Bucky’s head shot up in mock panic.
“Uh-oh,” he whispered to his daughter, his eyes wide with exaggerated worry. “The boss is back. Don’t say anything.”
You appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow as you saw Bucky and the baby cozied up on the couch. “What are you two up to?” you asked, a knowing smile on your lips.
Bucky gave you his most innocent look, bouncing your daughter gently in his arms. “Oh, nothing. Just hanging out with my best girl here. Right, darling?”
The baby let out a little squeal, clearly delighted by the attention.
“Mmhmm,” You said, stepping closer and giving Bucky a playful look. “You haven’t been filling her head with nonsense, have you?”
“Me? Never,” Bucky replied, trying to keep a straight face. “We were just talking about how great you are. Isn’t that right, kiddo?”
Bianca, oblivious to the conversation, giggled and reached for you, and took her from Bucky’s arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Well, if she grows up thinking she’s in charge, I’ll know who to blame,” You teased, casting a glance at Bucky.
He grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Hey, she’s gotta learn from the best.”
You smiled, shaking your head in mock defeat. “You’re lucky she likes you so much.”
Bucky stood and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both looked down at your little girl, now happily nestled between you. “I’m lucky to have both of you,” he murmured softly, kissing the side of your head.
And in that moment, with his two favorite girls in his arms, Bucky couldn’t imagine a better kind of luck.
1K notes · View notes
shrimpybbq · 2 months ago
Text
a meeting with the in-laws
anon: high school gf's parents coming back after they've kicked her out once the baby's born and demanding to see their “baby" and it's a whole scene
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It had been three days since the newest Cameron had arrived into the world, the small baby boy kicking and screaming like a true warrior. A coked-up Rafe swore he had never seen anything so perfect as when he saw his own little boy clutched tightly within his mother’s arms, his sweet red cheeks chubby and full of life. It had taken some convincing but soon Rafe had his son against his bare chest as he softly stroked at the wisps of hair atop his head. He sat by his sleeping girlfriend’s side, quietly cooing to his son. There in that room lay his whole world, and it was then and there that Rafe made a promise to himself: no-one would hurt either of them for as long as he lived.
Rafe found his first opponents rather quickly. The small family returned to Tannyhill on the third day and began to settle back into the house, bringing their son up to the nursery they had spent hours painting. Rafe had wanted to hire someone to paint the images on the wall but had begrudgingly agreed to help his girlfriend paint them herself when she began tearing up in front of him. They had decided on a space themed nursery after Sarah suggested it. As they settled the sleeping boy in his cot, a loud knock echoed across the property. The new parents ignored it, only to hear mumbled voices from the foyer grow louder and louder. It was with a start that Rafe looked up, his bicep being clutched tightly.
“My parents…they’re here!” she whispered anxiously, her eyes widening as she looked up at him for help, “they told me that I was dead to them Rafe!”
Rafe looked at his sweet girl, taking her into his arms as she began to tremble, hands running soothingly over her back. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s gonna be ok, alright? You’ve got me here and I-I’m not gonna let them treat you like shit, ok,” he muttered. Rafe watched her pull away from him slowly, giving him a small nod as she wiped away the tears that had managed to spill over. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head and whispered encouragingly “you can do this, baby.”
As they made their way down the stairs, it was clear that the Cameron’s did not take kindly to the familiar family standing in their living room. Rafe and Sarah were the two most obvious in their distaste, each wearing matching grimaces and glares. They both watched as her mother immediately ran to hug her daughter,
“Oh sweetie, there you are! My baby all grown up with her own baby - oh I’m so proud of you.”
Rafe watched as his girlfriend stood stiffly in her arms, a distraught expression crossing her face at the words. He couldn’t help but grit his teeth - he had watched as she cried for weeks after her parents kicked her out, her heart broken as they refused to answer her calls. They’d removed her existence from their lives for nine months and now here they were, claiming to love her again? No, that wouldn’t do, Rafe thought.
“Are you, though?” Rafe bit out. He grinned as all eyes turned sharply to him.
“Of course we are, our daughter has given us a strong and healthy grandchild. Why wouldn’t we be?” Her father asked, his tone filled with a certain menacing quality that both Rafe and Ward picked up on. The former ignored his father’s warning glance as he continued to speak.
“What about when you kicked her out, pregnant and alone with no money? Hmm, yeah I thought you’d remember that,” he spat, watching a flicker of shame cross the older woman’s face.
“Rafe that’s en-”
“No, come on Dad, you saw what they did to her, to my son. They didn’t give a shit until he was born, isn’t that right?”
All in the room stood in silence as the tension became so thick it could swallow them whole. It was only the audacity of her father that shattered the silence, “we want to see him.”
Fuck no, Rafe thought. He watched as his girlfriend scampered to his side, her eyes looking up at him pleading. They’d spoken often about her parents and had come to an agreement to keep them away from their family, not trusting their intentions should they come back. Almost imperceptibly, Rafe nodded towards her, a firm squeeze to her hip confirming he understood what she wanted.
“No.”
“W-what did you say to me, boy?”
“I said no. You’re not coming near my son, or my girl, now get the fuck off my property, alright?”
Ward looked between his son and the other grandfather, sighing deeply before coming towards his old friend. He spoke lowly, the rest of the room unaware of their words. It was only when both men turned back to the face their children did they speak.
“You must be very overwhelmed with all those hormones right now, sweetheart. You aren’t in your right mind,” Rafe heard her father say, fists clenching at the audacity he had, “we will come and see you next week. Maybe you could be alone next time.”
The Cameron’s wordlessly watched as Ward escorted her family to their cars. They turned back to see Rafe comforting his girlfriend, her head buried into his chest as she sobbed. Rafe stood there as his blood rushed through his body, his heart pumping rapidly in his chest. This was his first experience being a parent - of feeling a sense of unwavering protectiveness come over him. He knew then that his promise to himself in that hospital chair would never be broken, for he would do everything in his power to keep his family safe. No one would ever hurt them, and as he slowly walked his sweet crying girl back to the nursery, he knew he would kill to keep them safe.
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darnell-la · 3 months ago
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how about old!logan with the filthiest mouth one could ever speak, full with nasty and degrading pet names. just rough and mean logan treating the reader 🫠🫠
note: this takes place in the Honda Odyssey… we can make the man filthier by the way…
———
“Well, you guys are fucking stupid, so, it’s not a surprise we’re lost,” y/n crossed her arms in the back seat as Wade drove through the woods, trying to get to the place Nicepool had me roomed for them to form a team.
“You ain’t the smartest sheep either. Batting your fuckin’ eyelids at Jonny,” Logan scoffed next to her before leaning back in his to rest.
After Wade had told him that there might not be a way to save his world, he’s been in a bad mood. Ever since she met him, he’s been in a bad mood.
“Yeah, but sadly he’s not here with us, right Wade?” Y/n sarcastically asked, making Wade sigh loudly. “He should have said those things about her!” Wade shouted.
“This whole trip is fucking ridiculous. Like seriously, Wade. Why the fuck did you bring me along to save this drunk fuck!?” Y/n complained, making Logan chuckle.
“To save your shitty world,” Logan said under his breath. “Hey! That’s my world too!” Wade argued. “Yeah — That’s why I said that shit,”
“Not like yours is better,” y/n mumbled, making Logan snap his head towards her. Y/n continued looking out of the window, not caring how he felt about her words.
“The fuck you say?” The man asked in a clearly angry tone. “Alright, let’s just cool our dicks and think about a place to eat at after we get out of this shit hole, hm?” Wade asked the two, but they both ignored him.
“Nah, I wanna hear what the little bitch has to say,” Logan called the young lady out of her name, making her snap his own neck at him. “Bitch!? No wonder you could never keep a woman. In every universe!” She shot for his heart.
“That’s something you don’t have to worry about because Ian pickin’ a little brat like you,” Logan tried saying something back in an instant like her comment didn’t hurt. He knew calling her out of her name was shitty, but he’s going through it right now.
The man was pulled from his universe being told he had a chance to save it. Not even two hours later, he was told it was an educated wish.
“Not like you can get in my pants anyways limp dick,” y/n spat, making the man chuckle. He was cocky. He always has been, and his age wasn’t going to throw that away.
“You’re an easy little girl. You would even be able to handle me,” the man looked the girl up and down, giving a look that made her roll her eyes. “You fuckin’ wish,” she said before turning back to the window.
“Oh, honey bun, he does! Maybe y’all can fuck it out in here before we make it home. Got a long way to go,” Wade almost sang.
The two went silent, not declining or accepting. They were just angry, and Wade swore having a small fuck-session would help.
Y/n felt eyes on her through the silence. She told herself not to look back, but she had to. She wanted to see the man’s face, and god, was he fine. She hated admitting to it, but he was.
The way he looked at her legs, made her shift in her seat, growing nervous from the older man’s gaze.
“As I said — Little girl can’t handle it,” Logan finally looked up at the girl with a smirk, smelling the way she grew wet in seconds, and she didn’t know he could. She was clueless which made the situation funnier to him.
“I can handle more than you think. Your dick probably wouldn’t be able to stand up anyway, so stop lookin’ at me like that you perv,” y/n tried covering her legs, but there was no use.
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” the man rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. “Do it yourself, coward,” y/n said under her breath. She thought she was quiet enough until his head snapped back at her and Wade gasped.
“Oh, you nasty little peanut,” Wade giggled. “Oh, you want me to fuck you?” Logan asked, giving that stupid smirk again. “What!? I never said that,” y/n lied, trying to think of something to stop this conversation.
“Oh, but you did, bub,” Logan felt like he was shifting closer, but y/n kept her eyes off of him. “Don’t go silent on me now, bub. If you need a little cock to fix that attitude, I can do it,”
The instant confidence he had, made the girl nervous. What the fuck is she going to do?
“Don’t need cock,” the girl spoke quietly. “I think you do,” the man’s hand was now on the grips thighs, gripping it a bit rough to get a reaction.
Y/n turned and swung, going to hit the man somewhere, but he got her fist and pushed it away before hovering over her body.
“You’re feisty for a girl who’s soaking wet,” the man said, confusing y/n. “You can smell her that bad!?” Wade asked, wanting to know if all. “Oh, yeah, and she smells sweet,” Logan admitted as his hands tugged on her belt.
“Let’s see if I’m right,” Logan ripped y/n’s belt off and shorts down her legs, exposing her pretty lace panties. “Logan! Fuckin’ get off!” Y/n fought back, but he knew she could do better.
“You sure? Kinda looks a little messy down here,” the man laughed at her girl as he spews her legs, seeing the dark spot grow. Before she could say another word, he ripped her panties off, making her yell at him more.
“Pretty little cunt. Maybe if you weren’t so bitchy, I’d eat it, but I have different plans for you today,” Logan wiped a finger across her lips before taking them to his mouth to suck.
“Yep — Sweeter than peach, Wade. Didn’t know you had sluts as friends,” Logan laughed again as he fumbled with his own belt. “Logan!” Y/n still shouted, kicking and slapping but he had his single hand pinning her shoulder down.
“Look on the bright side, peanut — You’ll get some dick and maybe that’ll energize you for our fight?” Wade said about anything to hide the fact he loved hearing Logan get the way he gets.
“Fuck you, Wade!” Y/n yelled at the man. “Nah uh, only I do that to you,” y/n almost forgot about Logan until she looked down, seeing his cock out in his head, stoking and leaking pre cum.
“Got me so fuckin’ hard. You know how good you look fighting? How pretty you are yappin’ that damn mouth? Could only think about you under me -- where you belong,”
Logan struggled but made his way in between her legs. “Fuck you! Fuck you, a-and Wade! You’ll last two seconds,” y/n tried laughing at the man to seem tough as usual, but he shut her right up with a hard thrust into her cunt.
“What was that? Two seconds? If I lasted a short time, it’s because this cunts so fuckin’ soaked, not because I’m old, baby,”
Y/n’s hands pushed at the man’s stomach, trying to slow him down and stop him from pushing hitting the right spot with each thrust he gave.
“S-Stop!” The girl whined already, feeling the knot in her stomach build and her breathing get spotty. He was huge and hard. Harder than she thought a man his age could be.
“Don’t think you want that, baby. No, you want me to fuck this pretty little girl till she cried and leaks on the seat,” Logan whispered in her ear as his own breath became heavy.
“God, you guys are hot. Love the play date you guys are having! Maybe give me a review after the Uber ride. Tell me if the seats felt comfy and if y’all had enough room to fuck like rabbits with rabies,” Wade seemed excited.
“Hear that, babe? Gonna tell Wade how good I fuck this pussy? C’mon, tell him. Tell him how hard your squeeze my cock,”
Y/n hated his cock voice in her ear but loved it at the same time. He knew exactly how she’d like it. Maybe by her attitude, he knew she needed someone with the same energy to pound her.
“No c-chance,” the girl stuttered through her teeth as she tried glaring at the man, but her head instantly fell back after he gave one small pound, telling her to get rid of the attitude.
“You’re gonna do it eventually. Sluts like you can’t forget a good cock,” and he was right. This was going to be the best sed she’s had ever.
“Gonna go beggin’ Wade to come get me to fuck you. Shit, since I have to stay in the bullshit you call your world, I’ll just come over to your place myself. Burry my cock in this cunt till you pass out,”
“L-Logan,” y/n dug her nails into the man’s shoulders, trying to hold tight as her orgasm felt near. “Oh, you like that? Like the thought of a dirty old man fuckin’ this so-called clean pussy, hm? Gonna let me breed this little princess whenever I want? Even if I piss you off?”
“N-No, you fucking suck at this!” Y/n breathed heavily, keeping her orgasm together so she wouldn’t give him what she wanted.
“God, she’s fuckin’ petty,” Wade said as Logan let out a little chuckle. The man shifted in the van, lifting her legs over his shoulders before punching his right claw into the roof of the van.
Y/n jumped, not used to having a mutant like him around. “Don’t worry, princess. I wouldn’t hurt a pretty girl like you. Too valuable and tight,” Logan grabbed between the back of y/n’s head and neck to lift her to, fixing her to lean into him.
“Before I fuck you ass dumb, do you want to take anything you said back?” Logan looked down at the girl whose legs rested on his shoulder and cock grazed her entrance, waiting to be squeezed again.
“You fuck like a dead pig,” y/n spat. Right after, the man took one good slam into her, watching her legs part and scream. Logan pulled her head back up, making her look into his dark eyes.
“Loudmouth for a loud screamer,” the man smirked before moving his hips, thrusting into the girl with all the strength he had. He pulled her back to life whenever she tried pushing away or leaning her head back.
“Good fuckin’ pussy — Fuck! — Maybe I’ll excuse that bitch tone of yours,” the man couldn’t deny his could she felt and sounded.
Before, y/n thought she could hold herself in, but she knew Logan would get what he wanted in this new angle and harder pounding. He knew this from the start.
“C’mon, bub — I know you wanna cum. Keep squeezing around me like I wouldn’t notice,” he laughed at her. Teasing he. “N-Not cumming,” y/n assured the man, but even Wade didn’t believe her.
“I can see how the man has you in a full-on butter-salted pretzel position. You’re cumming, peanut,” Wade said, only egging Logan on knowing anyone who looked at her right now could tell she was close.
“No, I’m not!” Y/n pathetically whined. Logan leaned down to the girl's face, slightly touching her lips as his hot breath burned her nostrils.
“Don’t cum then, bub,” Logan said as he picked up his pace. “Don’t cum, and you win. You win your little bitch fight, and we can move on with our day,” Logan kept increasing.
“Don’t cum, and you’re right about my limp old dick,” Logan now growled. “Don’t cum, and I won’t come into your little home and eat that pussy,” y/n eyes rolled back as his hands dug into the back of her neck.
“Don’t cum, and I won’t fuck you like this every day to satisfy your needs, baby. Don’t cum, and I’ll have to leave this pretty little body alone forever,”
“Can’t breed it. Can’t kiss it. Can’t pound it. Can’t do anything I want to it,” y/n whined loudly at the man’s words, finally releasing the man’s cock.
“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You need me. You fuckin’ want this old dick,” Logan’s lips crashed into her, kissing her roughly as she cried at the pace he kept ducking her in.
“Goddam, she cums a lot!” Wade said with excitement, loving the animal coming out of Logan. He knew y/n needed something like this in his life. That totally isn’t the reason why he brought her along.
“So fuckin’ good, baby. Best fuckin’ cunt I’ve fucked. So damn tight and sweet. Need you after all this. Needa have you with me forever,”
Y/n didn’t plan for this to happen. She doesn’t plan to let Logan fuck her like this in the back of Nicepools Honda Odyssey. She didn’t plan for Logan to form an attachment issue with her.
“Gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill this girl up. Gonna keep you with me forever. Can’t leave. Don’t care how old I am, you belong with me. You’re made for me. Pussy’s molded to only take my cock,”
Logan’s hips bucked a few times before he pushed all the way into the young girl, spilling into her with a loud animalistic groan.
The top of the roof was ripped with how many times his claws punched in and out of it. Logan’s fingers bruised the back of y/n’s neck. Her lips even have a small scratch from the hard he kissed. She tastes so fucking good.
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zeppelinlvr · 3 months ago
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"Better?" "Much"
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Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Summary: waking up next to Dean and getting ready with him
Notes: I promise I'll give Sam some love after this, I love the idea that Dean acts like a dad when he gets up, hacking, coughing, groaning, the whole nine yards. I wanted to thank you guys again for all of the support, you're all so sweet! 💗💗
warnings: cursing, dean and reader playfully argue, kissing, lots of fluff, reader goes to the bathroom while dean is in there, but I promise its nothing gross or weird 😔
w.c: 1k
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The rising sun shone through a crack in the curtains of the motel room. You stirred awake, the light managing to hit you right in the eye. Dean lay next to you, softly snoring, drooling lightly and laying in a position that couldn't possibly be comfortable. You grimaced for him and the thought of how bad his neck was going to hurt when he woke up.
Sam was already awake, he still sat in his pajamas but he was sipping on a cup of coffee and had his computer open, researching as he typically did. He noticed you waking up and gave you a soft smile, not wanting to wake Dean.
You weren't exactly an early riser so you cuddled into Dean, burying your face into his side, trying to block out the light. You found yourself struggling to breathe and let out a sigh, knowing you weren't going to be able to fall back asleep.
Dean groaned as he awoke, grunting as his vision cleared and he noticed your face smushed into him.
“You trying to smell my pits or something?” he said with a small laugh, his voice slightly hoarse from having just woke up
“Love the pheromones” you replied sarcastically and brought your head up to look at him.
His hair was tousled and he had pushed half of the blanket off the bed in his sleep but he looked handsome as ever. Your hair was a mess, the shirt you slept in was twisted around your body, and your sleep shorts were riding up like crazy but Dean still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, simultaneously enjoying how your legs and ass looked when your shorts rode up.
Both of you were wild sleepers, flipping around in the night, blankets and pillows being pushed off the bed, Dean waking up in a panic when you would jerk in your sleep, and you hitting Dean with your pillow when his snores would grow too loud. The two of you would go to bed cuddling every night and wake up with your arm sprawled over his face and his legs on your side of the bed. Neither of you would have it any other way.
You moved yourself so your head rested on his chest, he brought his arm around you and placed a kiss to the top of your head.
“What's our next move Sammy?” Dean asked, “you found anything yet?”
“There's signs of vampires in Carterville Missouri, it’ll take us about five hours to get there though, so we should head out soon.”
“I can get us there in four, as long as grandma here doesn't have to pee every half hour” he said as he motioned towards you.
“I’m not the one who needs to stop for snacks constantly” you defended “and since you want to be Kevin Harvick with how fast you drive, you can make up the lost time from my bathroom breaks”
“Why do you guys just wake up arguing?” Sam asked
“We didnt, he kissed me then we started arguing” you defended with a sweet smile
“Yeah, come on Sam” Dean added
The two of you received an eye roll from Sam “go get ready, we can leave in an hour” he told both of you.
Dean sat up with a loud groan earning a response of “You sound like a father and you're not even one” from you.
“What are you talking about”
“All dads sound like they're dying when they get out of bed, all that loud groaning and back popping makes me think you need to go to the chiropractor.” you told him
“Alright sweetheart” he responded not even bothering to give in to what you were talking about, and gave you a kiss. You scrunched your nose after he pulled away.
“You need to brush your teeth” you giggled
“Same goes for you”
The two of you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth at the same time. Dean was at it again with his noises, he was hacking and spitting like there was no tomorrow while he brushed his teeth.
“Jesus, you dont have to kill yourself with the toothbrush you know” You told him after you rinsed your mouth out.
“Teeth won’t be clean if I don't brush em like this” he told you, muffled by his mouth full of toothpaste.
“Okay Dean, I’m gonna pee while you finish up” you said and sat down on the toilet, Dean gave you a nod with his toothbrush still dangling out of his mouth. You scoffed and then laughed at him, unable to take him seriously with his extensive morning routine.
“You look so helpless when you pee” he said
“What are you talking about” you asked with a laugh
“You just sit there like you're waiting for a bus, it makes me feel bad” he explained “at least I can stand up and put my hand on the wall or something.”
You shook your head at his observation, laughing at how ridiculous it was.
The two of you finished up in the bathroom and made your way to your bags to get changed. Sam went to the bathroom to clean up, having already changed. You opted for a tee shirt, jeans, and a jacket you had stolen from Dean. Dean put on attire similar to yours, adding a few more layers than you had chosen to.
Dean made his way over to you and kissed you sweetly, his lips lips plush against yours. He brought one of his hands up to the side of your head, toying with your hair with his fingers. He placed his other hand on your waist, rubbing his thumb back and forth along your hip. You brought your hand under his shirt, lightly scratching along his back, earning a soft groan from him. You knew he was a sucker for you scratching his back, always asking you to when the two of you laid in bed, or after he'd had a long day. You smiled into the kiss at the noise he had made. Your moment with Dean, that was much needed by both of you, was cut short by Sam clearing his throat, your face heated upon hearing him and you quickly pulled away from Dean.
“My breath better?” Dean asked a grin playing at his face
“Much” you told him with a small smile, his minty taste still lingering on your lips.
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azrielsrealmate · 3 months ago
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if I don’t put my hands over you right now…
azriel x reader
summary: your night in Rita’s was supposed to end with Azriel between your legs, not Azriel beating up your abusive ex.
warnings: suggestiveness, fight, blood, injuries, dark themes if you squint, SLIGHT trauma from an abusive relationship.
word count: 2.7k
Yk when at the High Lords meetings Azriel just snaps when Eris speaks about Mor..? Yeah, I liked that scene way too much. So here this is😸
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Rita’s is packed, the heat radiating from every dancing body, the rhythm of the music pulsing through the floor and vibrating in your bones. You've spent nearly half an hour letting yourself go to the rhythm, your hips swaying in time, your eyes half-closed as Mor laughs and pulls you closer to the crowd. You're intoxicated, not just by the liquor you've consumed, but by the power you feel in being so aware of your body, so heated and alive in this dress that hugs you tightly and leaves so little to the imagination.
You spent hours getting ready. Three hours in the bathroom, meticulously shaving, slathering yourself with coconut creams until your skin was soft and fragrant, every detail of you arranged with almost cruel precision. And while part of you did it just to look good, to feel pretty, you know there’s something more. A deeper desire, the real reason you spent three hours locked away like a maniac.
The reason hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he first saw you that night. Azriel. It's always been Azriel.
The push and pull between you two has been constant, furtive glances and subtle touches, half-spoken words and smiles that hide more than they reveal.
You know he’s watching you, you feel it even when you’re not looking, a sensation that burns the back of your neck, and anticipation grows with every passing moment, tingling under your skin. A pang in your gut—intuition, they call it—you think something is going to happen. Naively, you think it might be good, really good, a reward for those three hours in the bathroom pampering yourself.
The music shifts to a slower, deeper rhythm, and the heat in the room seems to intensify. And you really can’t take it anymore, your breath is quick and shallow, and you hate the thought of breathing in the scent of sweat from constantly moving bodies, so you decide it’s time for a break, for a cold drink to refresh you.
You pull away from Mor with a smile and head to the bar, enjoying the slight coolness that the nonexistent breeze offers. At least there aren't people blocking everything in your view anymore.
Just as you're about to order your drink, you feel it. That familiar scent of cedar and mist, an aroma that always makes you turn your head, that wraps you in a feeling of safety, of desire, and something darker. Your heart beats faster with it, urging you to be afraid, but you're smarter than that. And then, the hands. Firm, confident, and so large on your hips that you fantasize about what they could do to you, they settle on your hips and pull you back against a hard, unyielding chest.
Though his chest isn’t the only thing that’s incredibly hard.
You laugh softly, knowing who it is without even having to look. You can feel the strength in him, the tension built up in the way he pulls you so desperately against him. He’s so close, and he leans down so that his mouth is right by your ear, and when he speaks, his voice is a low growl that wraps around every inch of your skin, making you exhale, your skin prickling. You press your thighs together.
“If I don’t put my hands on you right now, I’m going to put them around the neck of every man looking at you.”
The whole world seems to stop for a second. Your breath catches, and the pulse in your throat pounds. You knew there would be consequences tonight, but the reality of it hits you like a punch. Azriel, always controlled, always restrained, is on the edge, and the idea of that control breaking… is intoxicating. You smell it, so thick you can taste it, musky. God, you’d give anything to have it on your tongue for real.
“You don’t have to be so dramatic,” you murmur, but your voice trembles, betraying you. Because deep down, you like it. You like that he’s so close, that he’s so vulnerable with you, that he feels something so fierce that it drives him to act. Your words seem to only provoke him further because the grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress.
“Dramatic doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he whispers against your ear, his warm breath trailing over your skin. “You… have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
The trembling inside you turns into a wave, and you can barely contain it. It’s an effort not to roll your eyes in pure pleasure, not to rub your thighs together to get some friction.
“And what are you going to do about it?” you whisper, challenging him. Although to you, it’s not a challenge, it’s an offering. So full of need that you have to mask it.
Azriel doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turns you, gently but firmly, until you’re face to face with him. His eyes, as dark as the night itself, are lit with a mix of emotions that make you tremble. Slowly, his gaze lowers to your dress, the slight leopard lace that gathers at the top, just enough to give him a tantalizing view of the skin you so carefully prepared.
“This dress…” he murmurs, his voice deep and laden with meaning. “It’s on purpose. You knew what it would do, what it would do to me.” His hand moves up, slowly, from your hip to the small portion of bare skin on your shoulder, brushing it with a tenderness that contrasts with the fire in his eyes. “If you wore it for me, then I have the right to take it off you.”
Your lips part, words trapped in your throat as you try to process the intensity of what he’s saying. But before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, stealing your breath, demanding more than you thought you were willing to give.
The kiss is hard, fierce. His tongue claims your mouth as his own, exploring and savoring; you barely have time to keep up with him.
His hands roam over your body, exploring the skin you’ve prepared for him, and you cling to his shoulders because your knees are trembling. It’s as if the world around you disappears, leaving only Azriel, his mouth on yours, his body firm against yours, and the fire that heats your skin and spreads to his.
When he finally pulls away, you’re both panting, and he looks at you as if he can’t decide whether he wants to kiss you again or carry you out of Rita’s right then and there.
“Let’s go,” he says, his voice more of an order than a request, and although his tone is firm, there’s a plea in his eyes. A need that mirrors your own. And it’s completely overwhelming, you can only nod. And your legs move when your mind is still dazed from the kiss, his hand on your waist as if he can sense that.
Azriel comes to a sudden stop, just before you can cross the threshold of Rita’s, when a cold, venom-laden voice rises above the club's noise.
“Already got another man?”
Your heart stops for an instant, the heat of euphoria fading as you recognize the figure approaching. Tall, dark-haired, and gray-eyed, who used to look at you with something you believed was love, but now only shows resentment. Your face hardens at the sight of your ex, and a familiar tension settles in your chest, a reminder of the scars you still carry.
Azriel notices immediately. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin possessively. You can feel the tension in him, the way his body prepares to act, to protect you. Azriel’s shadows, always lurking, slip across the floor between you like snakes, dark and threatening until one of them coils around your shoulders.
“We broke up over a year ago, get over it,” you say, your voice tense but firm, maintaining your composure despite the turmoil inside you. You have no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing how much his presence affects you, how much Azriel’s grip on your waist is doing for you.
But he laughs, a bitter, hollow sound that makes your stomach churn. He takes a threatening step toward you, and though your body wants to retreat, you stand firm. You know this game. You know he’ll drink and get drunk on the slight fear in your eyes, he’ll go crazy if you back away, he’ll think he has more power than he does, so you force yourself to stay still.
His fists clench, and you see Azriel’s gaze turn lethal, a flash of cold fury that he barely contains.
Your ex doesn’t give you time to respond, the gray of his eyes fixed on Azriel, and his voice comes out filled with disdain, as sharp as a knife. “You’ll find out soon enough, she’s not worth it. All that pretty face, and she’s not even going to suck your…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. He can’t. Because the moment those venomous words leave his mouth, Azriel moves, faster than a blink. You feel the heat of his body leave you for an instant, and then, the sound of impact. A dull, heavy thud reverberates in the air, and you see your ex stagger backward, blood spurting from his nose.
But Azriel doesn't stop there.
The wild gleam in his eyes tells you everything you need to know: he's not going to stop. He doesn't want to stop. With lethal efficiency, he launches himself at your ex again, his fist finding its mark over and over, with a fury that has been simmering for too long, now unleashed in an unstoppable torrent.
And you... do nothing to stop him. You could always say you were paralyzed, that you didn't know what to do, that it caught you by surprise because you remain there, your feet rooted to the ground as you watch Azriel destroy the man who had hurt you time and again. You should scream, you should intervene, but you don't. Because a part of you—that dark and wounded part—feels a perverse satisfaction watching him get what he deserves. Each blow seems to erase one of the invisible scars he left you, each groan of pain he emits sounds like justice for the years you lost with him.
Blood splatters the ground, and your ex tries to cover himself, but it’s futile. Azriel is unstoppable, his face transformed into a mask of pure rage, his shadows swirling around him like frenzied beasts, hungry for more.
But then, a giant figure bursts onto the scene, a whirlwind of muscle and strength. Cassian.
In an instant, the General of Rhys’s armies is upon them, his arms encircling Azriel and pulling him back with brutal force. But Azriel fights, his body trying to break free, desperate to keep punishing that man, to make him pay for every word, every insult, every wound he caused you.
"Azriel, stop!" Cassian’s voice booms above the chaos, laden with authority, but also concern. Cassian tightens his grip, his wings spreading to block everyone else’s view, his expression hardened as he uses all his strength to contain his brother.
You barely see it, but you hear him growl, a sound that doesn’t seem human, and for a terrible second, you think he might even turn on Cassian. His shadows swirl, dark and violent, but then, in an almost imperceptible movement, you see Azriel close his eyes, taking deep breaths, struggling with himself, fighting to control his rage.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Azriel relaxes enough for Cassian to release him, though his eyes are still blazing with that fury that makes you tremble. The shadows slowly recede, as if they still want to attack but obey their master.
Your ex lies on the ground, gasping, his face barely recognizable from the beating, but you know he’s conscious. You feel the weight of everyone’s gaze, but you can only look at Azriel. At Azriel, who continues to look at you as if you’re the only person in his world, as if his vision had narrowed to just you.
Cassian holds him by the shoulders, keeping him in place, though it’s no longer necessary. The fight is over, but the air is still charged with tension, so thick that if anyone decided to push too far, it would shatter with the sound of another broken bone.
Azriel steps away from Cassian, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a step toward you, then another, until he’s standing in front of you, so close you can feel his breath on your skin.
"Are you okay?" His voice is a whisper, rough from the rage, but also filled with that unshakable concern he’s always had for you.
And for the first time in what seems like an eternity, you feel you can breathe again. You nod.
Cassian steps aside, giving one last piercing look at the man on the floor before giving you some space. Azriel remains unmoving, his eyes scanning every inch of your face, searching for any sign that this has affected you more than you admit. But all he sees is your determination.
"Let’s go," you finally say, your voice louder than you expected. You take his hand, his bloodied and bruised knuckles against your skin, and guide him out of Rita’s, away from the curious gazes and the chaos left behind.
————————————
The silence is almost overwhelming as you close the door of your apartment behind you. Azriel stands at the entrance, his eyes still dark with fury, but now the exhaustion and guilt begin to show in his expression. He says nothing, just watches you as you head to the bathroom and fetch the first aid kit. The sound of running water fills the space, but the tension between you is almost tangible.
When you return, you find him standing in the middle of the living room, his gaze lost on the floor. You don’t say anything as you gently take his hand, guiding him to the couch. Azriel allows himself to be led, his wings drooping and his posture relaxed now that the adrenaline has worn off. You can feel lighter yourself.
"Let me see," you whisper, barely a breath. You hold his hand with a softness that contrasts with the brutality of what you just witnessed. His knuckles are bloodied and his hands tremble slightly, though you’re not sure if it’s from the fight or from what he feels now.
He says nothing as you clean the blood, his gaze fixed on your hands, watching every move as if it’s the first time someone has cared for him this way. As if he’s never experienced tenderness before, and the way you’re wiping the blood from his knuckles is presenting it to him on a silver platter. It’s not the first time you’ve done this, but the intimacy of this moment, after what happened, feels different.
"I’m sorry," he murmurs finally, his voice barely a whisper. "I shouldn’t have lost control like that."
Your hands pause for a moment, your eyes meeting his. You see the guilt there, mixed with that smoldering rage that never seems to fully disappear.
"Don’t apologize," you reply firmly, resuming your task. "He deserved it. And... I’m not going to lie, Azriel. Watching him get what he deserved... it wasn’t so bad."
He looks at you, surprised by the confession, but something in your words seems to calm him. He accepts your response, though you know a part of him will always blame himself for losing control. It’s what makes him who he is.
When you finish cleaning and bandaging his knuckles, you keep his hand in yours for a moment longer, savoring the warmth you’ve always found in him. Azriel, who has always been your rock, your protector, now allows himself to be cared for, letting you see that vulnerability he so rarely shows.
"Thank you," he says softly, meeting your gaze with eyes now velvety as he looks at you without worrying about anything else, and his other hand reaching to caress your cheek with a gentleness that contrasts with the brutality of the night.
You don’t respond because there’s no need. Instead, you lean into him, allowing yourself to rest in the warmth of his embrace, in the comfort only he can offer you. Outside, the world keeps spinning, but here, in this small corner of your life, everything is calm.
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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago
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Restless Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: 1.1k words of dad and husband max trying to fix the angsty mess that he's made
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A hum of confusion came from Max as he tapped the space beside him, expecting to feel your figure. Instead he was slapped by the harsh cold of your empty space, the chill in the air leaving Max shivering. He knew bed was where you needed to be, especially with your pregnancy so close to the end.
He slowly sat himself up, brushing his hands over the front of his face. Max steadily stood up, noticing a faint glow of light coming from the doorway. He knew it was you, but he was confused as to what you were still doing up. 2:07 the clock informed him, definitely time for you to be resting. Max crept through the house, moving down the stairs to try and find where you were.
Fast asleep.
Max was almost relieved to see you resting until he noticed how uncomfortable you looked. The guilt struck him as soon as he took you in, knowing that your decision to sleep on the cold, battered sofa was all down to him.
Unlucky for Max, you weren’t quite as asleep as he thought you were. You could hear him moving through the room, desperately trying to keep your eyes screwed shut in an attempt to convince Max that you really were asleep and for him to leave you alone. He knew you better though, and knew exactly the way to try and catch you out too.
His head shook as he took a few quiet steps towards you, poking his finger against your arm that hung out from the blanket you had draped over you. Your body jumped at his sudden touch, confident you could hear Max giggling proudly to himself as he sat down beside your figure, giving you a moment to rub the sleep out of your eyes and tilt your head to look across at him.
“This is ridiculous,” Max told you, resting his arm just above your head.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huffed, pulling the blanket further around your body, making sure that your bump was well protected and warm.
“Just come and join me in bed.”
Your head shook defiantly back at Max. “Why would I share a bed with the man who says I’m distracting his career because he can’t get a good night’s sleep with all my fidgeting. I’m giving you what you wanted right now, what’s the problem?” You snapped. Max flinched at your harsh tone, he knew what he’d said was probably the worst thing that he could say, and he knew he had a whole world of making up to do too.
“According to my data I got three hours of sleep last night, my coaches are really concerned as to what’s going on!”
“You try being seven months pregnant and see how it easy it is to rest at night, I’m sorry life is so difficult for you Max.”
“At least you can rest most of the day!”
“Wow Max!”
“My lack of sleep is starting to effect my performance and I can’t let that happen, my career is important and you wriggling around most of the night is really starting to impact that!” Max yelled back, stopping as soon as he realised what he had said. Your eyes fell to the floor as you took a moment to process what he had said, sticking the blame on you as if you wanted to sleep restlessly and enjoyed not being able to let your husband rest at night. “Babe, I-“
“Don’t even try and apologise, I can’t believe you’re making me feel guilty for growing our child, I’m sorry it’s all just such an inconvenience.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, you know I don’t feel that way,” Max tried to argue, but your mind was already made up, his true feelings really were now known.
“You go to bed Max, I’ll give you the space that your precious career needs,” you told him, pushing him in the direction of your bedroom. He let his feet go, knowing arguing with you was pointless, hoping you’d follow behind him.
“I don’t know what I was thinking when I said what I said earlier love.”
Max’s hand slowly reached out and hovered over the top of your bump, smiling to himself as he admired just how big your baby was getting.
“My career is important, but you and the baby mean so much more to me. I was insensitive and rude, my priorities weren’t straight. I know it’s hard for you, and I really do completely understand how difficult being pregnant is,” Max whispered.
Your hand slowly moved across your bump, resting your fingers just over the top of Max’s.
“No one wants for me to sleep peacefully more than me,” you informed him.
“I know,” he smiled, shuffling closer towards you. “I’m so proud of you, you’re coping so well, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel anything different.”
“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know?”
“I do,” Max chuckled as he saw the first hint of a smile on your face. “I’m stupid, selfish and a massive ass sometimes, but that doesn’t stop me being so in love with you and our baby. You have no idea how excited I am for our future together babe.”
You hummed in agreement with Max, “I do, I’ve heard all those interviews you did in Miami last weekend.”
“Seeing as you’re talking to me again, is there a chance you might come and join me in bed again too? It’s horrible being in there without you,” Max smirked, extending his hand out for you to take.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you teased, taking Max’s hand and allowing his other arm to wrap around you and help you off of the sofa.
“Can I get that in writing too?” Max grinned as you started walking.
Your head shook as he supported you all the way back to the bedroom, easing you down and placing the duvet gently over your body.
“Max, reckon you could sleep if I laid in your side?” You whispered, surprised by just how cold your spot was after you left it abandoned for so long.
“Of course,” he replied without even having to think, lifting his arm up and inviting you into the warmth beside him.
“Is this alright for you?”
“I promise, it’s more than alright for me.”
Whether he slept well for the rest of the night or not, it didn’t matter to Max, just as long as he had you back by his side.
And if his data was rubbish, well, his coaches would just have to deal with it.
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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logansdoll · 4 months ago
Text
all the time in the world
part two of "37"
CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, fluffy fluff, takes place during the events of Days Future Past, Logan's down bad for you, you're down bad for him, it's a whole thing, etc.
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Logan groaned as he felt something stir beside him, the sun spilling in through the windows and bathing the room in golden light.
'The hell...'
His power had already come into affect, the metal bars Magneto impaled him with, along with the water in his drowning lungs, completely gone.
Sitting up, he rested a hand on his side of his head.
And that's when it all came back to him.
Hank.
Charles.
Mystique.
With a roar, Logan shot out of bed, claws drawn and chest heaving as he snapped his head around, looking for the direction of the fight.
But instead, he found a bedroom, which had plants growing from every nook and cranny, the flowers blooming awake along with another in the room.
"Baby?" your soft voice broke through his frenzy, calming him almost instantly.
Quickly, Logan turned around, shoulders sinking as he caught sight of you sliding out of bed, still wearing the same silky robe.
Of course, it looked a little more worn, but it still did its job, and made you look just as beautiful as the day he left.
"(n/n)?"
You looked exactly the same, save for the few gray streaks in your hair, and now had the air of a woman seasoned in life's trials and tribulations, yet still glowing with youth.
It reminded him of how astronomically lucky he was that you even gave him the time of day—past, present, or otherwise.
As you drew closer, slowly, his claws retracted, and he watched you approach with eyes that made it seem like he was seeing you for the first time.
"You alright?" you asked, hands cupping his cheeks and smoothing over his cheekbones, before sliding down to rest over his chest. "You haven't had one this bad in a long time..."
Eyes flicking up to his face, your worries increased tenfold to see no change in his expression.
The man was just staring at you.
"Honey, is everything okay—"
He didn't even let you finish the sentence before he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush against him and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
And, despite the initial shock, you eased into him, arms finding home around his neck as you pulled him closer, resting your head against his pounding heartbeat.
"While I'm loving all this early morning attention... you're starting to scare me," you chuckled, dryly, lifting your head to look up at him. "Wanna tell me what's goin' on?"
He took in a deep, slow breath, trying to find the words.
"Remember that day in 1973..." he started in a low voice, one hand squeezing your hip, "When I told you to wait until I find my way back..."
You swallowed thickly, biting back a question as you nodded in confirmation.
He took a moment, scanning your face for any sort of reluctance, happy to find none.
"Well... I found it..."
His eyes landed on yours, and the way you looked up at him made his chest roar.
You weren't making this easy for him.
He was already holding himself back on a thread of sanity, and now he had to deal with the fact that you looked like a goddamn supermodel, and smelled like cocoa butter and vanilla.
Your curves were curvier, your hips were dippier, and you now had an extra ounce of unspoken confidence that could bring any man to his knees.
Him included.
Your hands found his face, holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.
Because he was to you, and now he all parts of him were back in your arms.
You chuckled, eyes misty as you smiled up at him, resting your forehead against his.
"Looks like my husband's whole again."
Record scratch.
"Husband?" he asked, eyes widening as he crackled a small smile.
You nodded, proudly holding up your hand to show off the gold wedding band sitting pretty on your ring finger.
"Mhmm," you hummed, amused by his shocked expression. "You put a ring on it fifteen years ago today... so don't think I'm gonna let you run out on me again."
He chuckled, fingers tucking under your chin and softly caressing your jaw.
"Wouldn't dream of it, doll."
Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed his lips against yours, hard, unloading well over fifty year's worth of pining.
You sank into it almost immediately, matching his fervor as you rested your hands on his chest, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him even closer.
The two of you moved together in perfect sync, fitting each other like puzzle pieces, as you kept up with his rhythm.
He grasped you by the small of your back, pressing you further into him and giving your hips a little squeeze, earning a quiet squeak.
Close wasn't close enough.
He wanted you even closer than that.
He wanted you so much, every part of him in contact with you want on fire.
But, alas, you two were human (not really), and air would be needed eventually.
The two of you separated with a gasp, cheeks flushed and foreheads resting against each other.
"I don't think you know how long I've been waitin' to do that," he smirked, catching his breath.
You smiled, sliding your hands up from his chest to his shoulders.
"Come show me," you purred, staring at him with those sparkling, (e/c) eyes of yours.
'Goddamn...'
He leaned in closer, about to say something else when, of course, he was interrupted.
"Hey, you two better be up and ready," Scott's voice cut through the air, the two of you quietly groaning at the intervention. "You both have got classes in five minutes."
You and Logan separated, albeit reluctantly, straightening yourselves out a bit.
"I'm a teacher now?" he asked, raising a brow.
"Self defense," you answered, teasingly, "Some things never change."
Suddenly, he took your hand in his, holding it firmly as a serious look came over his face.
"I'm gonna talk to the professor. See if he can get my memories back," he stated, reassuringly. "I don't want you to feel like we have to start from scratch... or our years have gone to waste."
That took you by surprise.
"Is that what you think?" you asked, concerned, as you turned to him. "Baby, I could care less whether you remember or not. It would be nice, but it would never make me believe that the years we've spent together have gone to waste."
You smiled, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek.
"Through thick and thin, it's you and me, Logan... If you're lost, I'll find you. If you forget, I'll remind you... we have all the time in the world."
Goddamnit.
You were getting him choked up.
Misty eyed, he pulled you closer, looking down at you like you were the only damn thing in the entire universe.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he smiled, thankfully.
You shrugged, teasingly, placing a quick peck on his cheek before heading toward your shared bathroom.
"Beats me."
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