#nyc life sentence | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mcrdvcks · 5 months ago

Text

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1974 - ...but it was never meant to be

chapter summary: You and Logan have been living in the Canadian Rockies for almost 6 months, enjoying the peace and solitude that comes with it.

word count: 8.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is just fluff, at least until the end... but we're finally hitting the movies! and sorry for it being a bit shorter than the others, there are some ideas i'm saving for a future chapter :))

(p.s. the first sentence about the hotel in nyc is going to be very important to remember for a future chapter...)

warnings/tags: fluff, origins!logan, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, (beginning of) x-men origins, character death

series masterlist - chapter 5 → chapter 7

Leaving was easy once you got past the one incident. You and Logan had stopped that day at a hotel a bit out of New York City only to be found by your father’s men.

But what happened was almost like magic. Logan, your Logan, took them all out with claws. At first you were bewildered, shocked at what you just saw. But now, after 6 months of living in the Canadian Rockies, it was normal.

Normal.

Mornings would start with the soft light streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over your shared space as Logan brewed coffee and you stretched, enjoying the easy comfort of it all.

Logan had found work quickly enough as a lumberjack, something that kept him outside and busy, and it suited him. Meanwhile, you’d stumbled upon a small animal shelter in the nearby town. You’d started going once or twice a week, helping out with the dogs and occasionally picking up shifts to keep yourself busy and connected to some semblance of normal life.

The routines you fell into together were quiet, steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt grounded. Though you missed New York sometimes, especially the volunteer work at the retirement home, the silence of the woods and the small town was a peaceful change.

Not only were things peaceful, but Logan had started opening up to you in the quiet of your cabin, usually in the early morning or after one of his nightmares. It started with little things—details about his mutation, his healing ability. Then, as the days blurred into weeks, he told you about his age and the wars he’d fought in, his voice quiet, words weighed down with old memories.

One chilly morning, you found him staring out the window, his gaze distant as he sipped his coffee. You moved up beside him, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you alright?”

He looked down at you, a flicker of a smile breaking through the shadows. “Yeah. Just… thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but calm.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you offered, watching his face closely.

Logan considered this for a moment, then took a long breath. “I think… just realizin’ how long it’s been since I had somethin’ like this,” he finally admitted, a glint of honesty in his eyes. “It’s been a hell of a road, darlin’.”

You reached out, resting your hand on his forearm. “I don’t need to know everything, Logan. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He gave a short nod, letting his hand rest over yours, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers wrapped around yours, holding them a moment longer than necessary.

---

Life in the cabin wasn’t extravagant, but there was a certain charm in the simplicity. Nights spent by the fire, mornings with the scent of pine and fresh coffee, and the comforting weight of Logan’s arm draped over you as you both drifted into sleep. But there were also the little bumps—like the time you tried making him dinner.

It had been a stew recipe, something you thought would be foolproof. You’d stirred, added spices, tasted… but when you served it, the look on Logan’s face was priceless.

He took a spoonful, eyebrows lifting as he held back a chuckle. “This a new recipe?”

“Okay, I get it—it’s not great,” you sighed, laughing a little as you took a bite yourself. “Alright, yeah, maybe it’s terrible.”

Logan chuckled, setting his spoon down. “It’s not so bad. I mean… it’s got heart.”

You nudged him, rolling your eyes. “Heart doesn’t mean it’s edible, Logan.”

“Maybe not,” he smirked, “but I’ll still eat it.” He winked, lifting another spoonful as he pretended to struggle through the bowl, making you burst into laughter.

---

Late one night, Logan awoke from one of his nightmares. You knew, even before he’d fully come to, just by the way he stiffened beside you. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face, and you reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whispered.

He looked down at you, the muscles in his jaw tight. But after a moment, he nodded. “It was a long time ago. Just old ghosts.” He paused, exhaling heavily. “There’s been a lot of violence. Stuff… I don’t ever want you to have to see.”

“I know you’ve seen a lot,” you murmured, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “But you don’t have to go through it alone, Logan. Not anymore.”

Logan’s hand covered yours, and he turned his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but searching. “You’ve been more than I deserve, Y/N,” he said quietly.

Your heart twisted, and you reached up to cup his face. “Logan, I don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. All that matters is who you are now.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Then I’m one lucky man,” he whispered, his voice low.

He held you close that night, your presence calming the echoes of a past that seemed finally willing to rest, if only for a while.

---

One day you were trying to make something simple, roast chicken and potatoes before Logan got back from work. You diligently checked the oven, making sure that nothing was burning, until Logan came home, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood up from the oven.

Logan’s hands settled warmly around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looked over at the oven. The familiar, steady weight of him grounded you, even as you felt your heart give a quick little skip at the simple, domestic gesture.

“Smells good in here,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he took in the scent of roasting chicken and herbs. “Didn’t know you were this fancy in the kitchen.”

You let out a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Fancy might be a stretch. I’m just hoping it doesn’t come out dry.”

His arms tightened just a bit, pulling you closer. “Even if it did, I’d still eat it,” he said, a hint of that playful glint in his voice. “Means a lot, havin’ you here. Feels like… home.”

A warmth rose in your chest, one that went beyond the physical, and you leaned back into him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I could get used to this too.” You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “Long days, quiet dinners, just us.”

“Us,” he echoed, his voice softer, thoughtful. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something unspoken yet weighty. His thumb brushed small, slow circles along your hip, as if anchoring himself in the moment, and he gave you a slight smile that didn’t quite mask the intensity behind it.

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you felt a shift in his posture, almost like he wanted to say something but was holding back. He looked at you in that way he sometimes did—like he was seeing more than just you standing there in your small, cozy kitchen. Maybe he was seeing all the days stretching ahead, those simple moments you’d have together, and the weight of that left him speechless.

“Logan?” you asked, brushing a hand along his arm.

He blinked, then smiled, the intensity in his gaze easing back into something gentler. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how lucky I am.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, with just the faint hum of the oven and the quiet, steady beat of Logan’s heart against your back. In the quiet of your little life together, things felt simple, natural. Here, there were no expectations, no obligations—just the two of you, building something real out of those little, ordinary moments.

But later that night, as you drifted off beside him, Logan stayed awake, lost in thought. His hand brushed over the small velvet box in his drawer, the ring that had waited all this time, the one that had been meant for you once before. He ran his thumb along the edge, thinking about when the right time might be—or if he’d even have the chance. For now, though, he’d savor each day, each quiet moment, holding on as tightly as he could.

---

You lay nestled between Logan’s legs on the couch, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you read, while he watched TV, idly sipping his beer. His free hand drifted up and down your arm absentmindedly, and you could feel the faint rumble of his quiet breaths beneath you. There was a calm in the cabin tonight—a peace you’d found only since being with him.

“What’s got you so hooked?” he asked, glancing down at your book with a smirk. “Looks like you’re deep in it.”

You tilted the book so he could see the cover, Jaws. “It’s a book about a shark.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “a shark, huh?”

You turned back to the book, keeping a small smile hidden. “Kind of. It’s a little deeper than just a shark, though.”

“Deeper than a shark, huh?” Logan smirked, shifting slightly to glance down at you, looking mildly amused. “Didn’t think a fish story could be that interesting.”

“It’s not just any fish, Logan,” you said, letting your hand rest on his as you settled back into his warmth. “This shark’s on a whole other level—a menace, basically unstoppable. And there’s all this tension between the people in the town, like who’s responsible, what to do, whether they even believe it’s happening.”

He gave a soft grunt of understanding, taking a sip of his beer. “Guess I can see why you’re hooked. Townsfolk fighting over a monster they can’t get rid of… kinda familiar.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, a glint of curiosity in your eyes. “You got experience with monsters, Logan?”

“More than you’d believe, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes holding that far-off look he sometimes got when his mind slipped somewhere else, somewhere harder. But his grip on you stayed gentle, grounding him here.

There was a moment’s quiet, then he smirked, leaning down closer. “But I could take out your shark, no question.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, closing the book and giving him a look of mock skepticism. “A great white shark, Logan. One that can bite clean through a boat. I think even you’d have some trouble with that one.”

He snorted, giving you an exaggerated look of disbelief. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’d have it done in five minutes.”

You laughed, poking his chest. “I’d like to see that. You, in the water, with a shark. You’d probably scare it off.”

“Probably,” he chuckled, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something genuine. “But I’d do it for you.”

His words caught you off guard, softening the teasing banter into something warmer, something real. You looked up at him, and the light in his eyes held a familiar steadiness, a promise you hadn’t expected. You felt a smile creeping up, one that made your heart beat a little faster.

“That’s sweet of you, Logan. But don’t go risking your life over a shark.”

He shrugged, giving a small grin. “Risking my life’s kinda my thing.”

With a smirk, you shifted to put your arms around his neck. “I don’t need you to fight any sharks. I just need you here, safe, preferably not trying to tackle any more sea monsters.”

Logan’s hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Don’t worry, darlin’. For you, I’d stay outta trouble… or at least, try.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. You melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, a promise in every kiss, every touch.

When you pulled back, he let out a small sigh, looking at you with a softness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“Now,” you murmured, your voice quiet as you tried to keep the mood light, “how about you let me finish reading this book before you start making any plans to fight sharks?”

“Fine,” he chuckled, leaning back into the couch, his arms still loosely around you. “But I’m just sayin’, the offer stands.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting back to lean against his chest, your book in hand. But even as you returned to the words on the page, the comfortable silence between you filled every corner of the cabin, your heart warmed by the man beside you.

---

When Logan came home and removed his jacket, the sound of music drifted to his ears, mingling with the low hum of a vacuum. The cabin was warm, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside, the smell of pine and faint wood smoke greeting him like an old friend. The soft glow of late afternoon sun streaked through the windows, and as he stepped further in, he caught sight of you.

You were standing in the middle of the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on your frame, the hem brushing just below the tops of your thighs. The vacuum roared in your hand as you cleaned, entirely oblivious to his arrival.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you. Something about this—a simple domestic scene—made his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that he couldn’t quite name.

“Y’know, you’re not supposed to wear clothes that fit me better than they fit you,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the vacuum’s roar.

Startled, you turned it off with a quick flick of the switch and looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. “Logan! You scared me,” you said.

“Didn’t mean to,” he replied, his tone warm as he pushed off the frame and walked toward you. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, and as he got closer, his eyes drank you in, lingering on the way the flannel gaped slightly at the neck, exposing the soft line of your collarbone. “Got a habit of sneakin’ up, I guess.”

You laughed softly, setting the vacuum aside. “If you were a little less loud, I’d think you were some kind of predator.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he said, his grin spreading as he reached for you, hands settling at your waist and pulling you close, “if I wanted to catch you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled between you, his voice a low rumble that always managed to make your knees feel just a little weaker. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the solidness of him beneath your palms. “Good thing I’m not running then,” you murmured, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours. “Good thing,” he echoed, before his lips claimed yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hands slid lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hips, pulling you tighter against him. The flannel you wore rose slightly under his touch, and you gasped softly into his mouth as his fingers found bare skin.

“Logan,” you breathed against his lips, your voice a soft plea.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his mouth trailing down your jawline, his scruff brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“Think you should let me finish cleaning,” you teased, though your hands had already slid up to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the dark strands at the base of his skull.

He huffed a laugh, his teeth grazing the delicate line of your throat. “Nah, think I got a better idea.”

With a swift move, he bent and swept you off your feet, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. You let out a startled laugh, clinging to him as he carried you toward the couch. “Logan, the vacuum—”

“Vacuum’ll be there later,” he cut in, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. “Right now, you’re the only thing I’m worried about.”

He set you down gently on the cushions, his large frame hovering over you as he knelt on the floor, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the flannel higher. The intensity in his gaze sent a flush rising to your cheeks, your heart pounding in anticipation.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day,” he admitted, his voice thick, raw. His hands paused, fingers curling just under the hem of the shirt. “Mind if I show you how much?”

You nodded, breathless, and he smiled—a rare, almost boyish expression that quickly dissolved into something darker, hungrier. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that left no room for doubt about where his mind was. His hands roamed freely now, skimming along the curve of your thighs, pushing the flannel higher and higher, exposing bare skin to the cool air of the room.

“Goddamn,” Logan muttered against your lips, his voice thick, raw. His hands splayed across your thighs, gripping them as though grounding himself, his thumbs brushing along the tender skin there. “You’re a fuckin’ dream, darlin’.”

A shiver ran through you, anticipation building as his kisses trailed lower, down your jaw, your neck, leaving a path of warm, open-mouthed caresses. You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved further down, sinking to his knees before you, his broad shoulders nudging your legs apart.

"Logan..." Your voice was barely more than a whisper, already trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed a kiss just above your knee, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The intensity there made your breath hitch. “Let me take care of you.”

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, taking his time, each press of his lips deliberate, teasing. Your heart pounded as you felt his warm breath against your skin, so close to where you wanted him, needed him.

When his lips finally brushed against you, his tongue darting out to taste, you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that spilled from your lips. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue working you with an expertise that made your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching his hair, your hips arching into him. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his tongue delving deep before retreating to flick against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you trembling, your thighs pressing around his head.

Logan growled against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound of it—rough, primal—only spurred you on. He was relentless, his lips and tongue working you with a fervor that left no doubt about how much he enjoyed this, enjoyed you.

“Logan, I—” Your words dissolved into a whimper, your body tensing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His name was a mantra on your lips, each syllable punctuated by gasps and moans as he pulled you apart and put you back together with every stroke of his tongue.

When you finally shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave, he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, his hands holding you steady as you trembled, as your body arched and writhed against him. Only when you were completely spent, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough, gravelly, as he rose to his feet, his hands still resting on your thighs. “I could do that all night.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning back against the couch, your body still tingling, your cheeks flushed. “You’re insatiable.”

“Says the woman who was just beggin’ me for more,” Logan teased, his voice a low rumble as his lips brushed against yours. His kiss was slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. The taste of him mixed with the remnants of your own release sent a thrill racing through you, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, keeping him close.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You sure you’re not tryin’ to kill me, darlin’? Feels like every time I get my hands on you, I lose a few more pieces of myself.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your fingers idly playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.”

Logan huffed a laugh, the sound deep and almost self-deprecating. His thumb traced lazy circles on your thigh, his gaze locked on yours. “For you, maybe not. For me? I’m startin’ to think I wouldn’t mind it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, a quiet confession that made your chest tighten. You reached up, brushing your thumb along the rough edge of his jaw. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “You’re too important, Logan. To me.”

His expression softened, the hard edges of his usual demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Y/N.”

“Maybe you should show me,” you said, your voice carrying a teasing lilt, though the heat in your eyes betrayed how serious you were.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, almost mischievous grin. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind.”

He let out a low growl, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. “You’re damn right I don’t.”

In one fluid motion, Logan had you lifted, his hands firm as he repositioned you to straddle his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself as you settled against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, the solidness of him grounding you in a way that felt almost necessary.

“See? Told ya I had better plans than cleanin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

You tilted your head, giving him more access, a soft hum escaping your lips. “I think I’m starting to agree.”

Logan’s hands roamed over you, calloused fingers exploring the soft curves of your body with reverence. There was no rush, no urgency in his movements. It was deliberate, almost tender, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

His lips trailed a path along your neck, his scruff scraping against your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he admitted, his voice low, almost like a growl.

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt.

Logan’s hands gripped the hem of the flannel you wore, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he slowly lifted it. He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in the sight of your bare skin bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice thick with something between awe and hunger.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but the look in his eyes kept any hint of self-consciousness at bay. “You’re staring,” you teased, though your voice wavered slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“Can’t help it,” he said simply, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of lookin’ at you.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, your hands threading through his hair as you pressed yourself against him.

Logan’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he shifted beneath you, the hard press of him against your core drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He swallowed the sound with a groan, his grip tightening as he began to rock you against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Just let me take care of you, darlin’.”

His hands moved to your waist, guiding your movements as he kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. Each roll of your hips against him was maddeningly slow, the steady build of tension making you ache for more.

“Logan, please,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you tried to quicken the pace.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “Patience, Y/N. I’m not in a rush.”

You huffed in frustration, though the warmth in his gaze softened the sharp edges of your need. “You’re cruel,” you muttered, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“Cruel, huh?” he echoed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing gently as he shifted beneath you. “Pretty sure you’ll be thankin’ me when I’m done with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound dissolving into a soft moan as he bucked his hips against you, the friction sending another wave of heat coursing through you.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice a mix of exasperation and longing.

He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yeah, darlin’? What do you need?”

“You,” you said simply, the single word carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air between you.

Logan’s expression softened, his teasing demeanor shifting as something deeper flickered in his gaze. “You’ve got me,” he said, his voice steady, his hands firm on your hips as though anchoring you to him.

Your heart stuttered at his words, the raw sincerity of them making your chest feel impossibly tight. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his as your fingers slid down his chest, the fabric of his shirt rough under your touch. “I’m glad,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss unhurried and deliberate, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. The heat of him seeped into your skin, grounding you as you moved against him. The friction was maddening, a slow burn that made you ache for more.

“Darlin’,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick and strained, “you’re makin’ it real hard to take this slow.”

“Maybe I don’t want slow,” you countered, your tone teasing, though the way your breath hitched betrayed your own urgency.

Logan chuckled low, the sound vibrating through you as his lips moved to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. “Trust me, you do,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your pulse point just enough to make your thighs tighten around him. “I want to feel every second of this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in his hair as he took his time exploring every inch of you. Logan’s hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he shifted on the couch, settling back further into the cushions.

The new angle pressed you more firmly against him, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed with another kiss. “Fuck,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone softer, though the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice trembling as you shifted your hips, testing the pressure between you.

Logan growled low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as his hands slid up your back. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his words heavy with reverence.

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he was looking at you, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. “Off,” you said simply, your voice breathless but firm.

He smirked, obliging without hesitation as he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Your eyes raked over him, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the scars that marred his otherwise flawless skin.

“Like what you see?” he teased, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“Always,” you replied, your hands trailing over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of old wounds. “You’re beautiful, Logan.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands sliding back to your waist. “Don’t think anyone’s called me that before.”

“Well, they should have,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his collarbone.

Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you as you moved against him, the steady grind of your bodies making your head spin. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, though the words were laced with affection.

“Not likely,” you quipped, a soft laugh escaping you.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shifted again, one hand moving to undo the button of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you realized what was coming next, anticipation coiling tightly in your stomach.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now, his gaze searching yours.

“Logan,” you said, your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

He nodded once, his hands steady as he slid his jeans down just enough, freeing himself. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as you took him in, your cheeks flushing at the sight.

“Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he guided you closer, his hands firm on your hips.

You moved slowly, adjusting yourself over him, the heat of him against you making you tremble. Logan’s hands were steady, his thumbs brushing soothing circles on your skin as he guided you.

When you finally sank down onto him, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and fullness that made you moan softly. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You feel... Jesus, darlin’, you’re perfect.”

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he felt, the way he filled you completely. You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you began to move.

Logan’s hands guided your movements, his grip firm but not controlling as he let you set the pace. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming as you rocked against him, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

The steady rhythm built slowly, the intensity growing with each roll of your hips. Logan’s hands roamed over you, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, grounding you in the moment.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at you. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best way.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upward, matching your movements.

The new angle sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a soft cry escaping your lips as you clung to him. “Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Right here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the strain in it.

The intensity between you grew, the slow, deliberate pace giving way to something more urgent as your bodies moved together. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch pushed you closer to the edge, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.

When you finally shattered, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Logan held you through it, his hands steady on your hips as your body trembled, his name falling from your lips in a breathless mantra.

He followed moments later, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on you tightening as he found his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you clung to each other, the world outside forgotten.

“You okay?” Logan asked finally, his voice soft, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice muffled against his neck.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back to look at him.

Logan’s expression softened, his hands moving to cup your face. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence.

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your tone steady despite the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right I am,” he said, his lips curving into a small, almost boyish grin.

The two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the couch, the rest of the world fading away. For now, there was only this—only him.

---

You turned off the water that was filling the bathtub and dipped your hand in to test the temperature of the water. The water was just right—hot, with steam gently rolling off the surface. You stood, wiping your hands on the towel, just as you heard the front door creak open and close with a soft click. Logan’s footsteps padded quietly through the cabin, but you could still feel that familiar presence, that comforting weight of him even when he wasn’t yet in sight.

You barely had time to turn around before he appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of you standing by the tub. “Now this is a surprise,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Thought you’d like a soak after all that work you did today,” you replied, a little smile tugging at your mouth. You stepped aside, gesturing toward the water. “Go on, it’s ready.”

Logan’s gaze softened, though his smirk never quite faded. “So you’re spoilin’ me now, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Can’t have you overdoing it. You might be practically indestructible, but a hot bath never hurt anyone.”

He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. “Got a point there,” he admitted, tossing it onto the nearby chair. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help your eyes drifting over the familiar planes of his chest, scars crisscrossing his skin like a map of all the years he’d survived. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t mind—just kept undressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Logan stepped into the tub, easing himself down with a contented sigh as he settled into the water. He leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the steam rose around him. For a moment, you simply watched him, a fond smile on your lips.

“Good?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “Better than good. You joinin’ me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “This one’s all yours. I’ll go make us something to drink.”

Before you could turn, Logan reached out, his wet hand catching yours. He looked up at you, his expression softer now. “Stay, darlin’. Least for a bit.”

His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, and you found yourself nodding, unable to refuse him. You sat down beside the tub, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of the water, and he let his hand rest in yours.

Logan kissed the top of your hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sure ya don’t wanna join me? Promise I don’t bite."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."

He chuckled, his fingers still wrapped gently around yours, as if he was savoring this quiet moment between you. “Could use a little company, that’s all,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

“This is supposed to be a bath for you.” You replied, your own eyebrow quirked.

“I’d enjoy it more if you were in here with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at Logan, the corner of your mouth quirking into a teasing smile. “Is that right? Well, maybe if you’re lucky.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the side of the tub. “Oh, come on. I’m always lucky when it comes to you.” His voice was a low murmur, pulling you in with that familiar, lazy charm he always seemed to have.

“Uh-huh, says the guy who tried to convince me he could take on a shark,” you shot back, crossing your arms, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re just full of bold ideas, huh?”

He chuckled, giving a shrug. “I stand by that. But I’m talkin’ serious here.” His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your wrist in a way that sent a warmth through you. “No sharks, no messin’ around. Just you, right here.”

The sincerity caught you a little off guard. The tension settled into something deeper as you looked at him, his hand steady on yours, like he was holding onto more than just the moment.

“I guess… I could keep you company,” you said softly, the lightness of your earlier words giving way to something quieter. You slipped out of your shirt, feeling Logan’s gaze follow you, his eyes dark with a warmth that made you feel both nervous and excited.

Sliding into the water, you settled in close to him, leaning back as his arms naturally came around you. The water was hot, relaxing every part of you, but it was Logan’s touch, the gentle press of his fingers tracing over your arm, that made you feel completely at ease.

“See?” he murmured against your hair, his lips grazing the top of your head. “Told ya this was a good idea.”

You hummed, closing your eyes as you leaned into him. “You did. Guess I should listen to you more often.”

Logan’s hand slid along your shoulder, trailing down your arm with a steady, careful touch, like he was trying to memorize every inch. You felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, followed by the soft press of his lips just below your ear. The tension of the day melted away, leaving you relaxed and content in his embrace.

For a few moments, you both just stayed there, the only sounds the quiet rustle of water and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Logan’s fingers traced small, lazy circles along your arm, his other hand holding you close against him, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“So,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “this isn’t so bad, right?”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Could get used to it,” he said, his voice rumbling against your back. “Peace and quiet. Just the two of us.” His hand dipped below the water, wrapping around yours.

You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Thought you’d be the type to get bored out here, all this peace and quiet.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, though his thumb continued to brush over the back of your hand. “Can handle a bit of quiet if it means you’re here,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him, your faces close. “Guess that makes two of us.” You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, the weight of those unspoken words lingering between you both.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his gaze soft and intent. “You gonna kiss me, or do I gotta ask real nice?”

“Always so impatient,” you teased, but you leaned in, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring every second. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, your forehead resting against his.

Logan looked at you, a small, crooked smile on his lips. “See? Worth the wait.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “You really know how to charm a girl, you know that?”

“Only got one girl I’m tryin’ to charm,” he replied, his voice rough but warm.

Your smile softened as you nestled back against him, letting the silence settle over you both once more. The warmth of the water, the feel of his arms around you—it felt like a small eternity in that moment, like nothing else in the world mattered except this.

---

Trying to turn the conversation away from what Logan told you, about Stryker coming to visit him about a ‘mission’, you started to talk about your day, with Logan’s head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“The stray was matted but Tina started calling him Wolf. Said the dog reminded her of another animal.”

Logan hummed, his eyes still closed, “lemme guess, she showed you a picture of the animal from her book.”

You giggled, “yeah, she did. Gotta admit that dog looked quite similar to the wolverine in her book.” You tilted your head downwards to look at him, “Reminded me of you. Grizzly, sometimes dirty.”

Logan opened one eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? Grizzly, huh?”

“Maybe a little.” You grinned, your fingers drifting through his hair in slow strokes. “Not just the dirty part, by the way. Wolverines are pretty fierce, don’t let much stand in their way.”

He let out a low chuckle, closing his eye again, seeming to relax further under your touch. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment, comin’ from you.” There was a slight pause, and his voice softened a bit. “Not everyone’s a fan of the grizzly type.”

You scoffed lightly, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. “Well, good thing I am. You know, even wolverines have a soft side somewhere.”

Logan huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? Don’t think I’ve got much of that left, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh, you definitely do.” You brushed a thumb gently along his temple. “Trust me. Like today—taking the time to help out with that old couple’s truck, even after a full day’s work.” You smiled down at him, admiration clear in your gaze. “I see it, Logan, even if you don’t.”

He tilted his head a bit, opening his eyes and looking up at you, his expression unreadable for a second before he sighed, a smirk breaking the moment. “Keep sayin’ things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but he kept his usual, laid-back tone. “Guess I’m lucky you put up with me, huh?”

“You know it.” You winked, letting your fingers trail down to his jawline, and you felt him relax a little more, like he could melt under your touch. “Plus, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“Not an easy job,” he muttered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leaned into your hand, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N.”

The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the warmth in his gaze making your heart beat just a little faster, and you couldn’t help but lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, he just looked at you with that familiar mix of amusement and something else—a depth you didn’t need him to explain.

You shifted slightly, a small smile still on your face. “Now, about that dog—think you could convince Tina to bring him around here?”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted, a smirk tugging at his lips again. “Bringing a stray mutt up here? You sure?”

“Why not? He’d be a good watch dog for you when I’m not around,” you said, with a wink.

He chuckled, a bit softer this time. “Guess I’ll think about it.” Then, his eyes crinkled with that familiar spark of humor. “But only if you promise not to call me Grizzly in front of anyone else.”

You laughed, leaning back against the couch, his head still in your lap. “Deal.”

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, and you just let yourself soak up the comfortable silence, the simplicity of Logan resting there, perfectly at ease. And as your hand drifted gently through his hair again, you couldn’t help but wonder if this—these quiet moments—might be what you’d both been needing all along.

---

You were driving down a narrow road, the trees thickening as you made your way toward town. The familiar hum of a cassette player filled the car, and you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm. It had been a good week—a small but sweet milestone with Logan, half a year together, and you’d even managed to keep things peaceful in that cabin of his. Tonight was supposed to be simple, a little surprise you’d planned: a tiramisu. Probably the only thing you could bake to perfection.

You rounded a curve, smiling to yourself when—

The sight in the distance made your stomach twist. A figure stood in the middle of the road, dressed in black, unmoving, watching you with an unsettling focus. You slowed the car, blinking to see if you were imagining things. But no—he was still there, large and unflinching in the middle of the narrow path.

As you approached, your heart hammered against your ribs. Something about him was familiar, but not in any way that felt safe or warm.

You pressed on the brake, bringing the car to a cautious stop. The man took a slow, deliberate step forward, his face coming into view under the faint sunlight streaming through the trees. His eyes were cold, almost amused, and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

It was him—Victor. The man Logan had mentioned a few times, enough to make you know he wasn’t someone you’d ever want to meet, much less find waiting for you like this.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice deep, mocking, and calm in a way that was anything but reassuring.

You tried to keep your face calm, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Just heading into town,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt. “Is there…something you need?”

He tilted his head, like he was sizing you up. “Logan ever mention me?”

A chill crawled up your spine, but you kept your expression guarded. “Maybe once or twice.”

Victor took another step forward, his gaze raking over you with a twisted curiosity, almost like he was toying with the idea of letting you go—but only almost. “See, I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with him,” he drawled, his tone venomous, “and here you are, just making it easy for me.”

You felt a pulse of dread, instinct telling you to turn the car around and get out of there, fast. But you knew better than to provoke him. “Logan’s not here,” you said, hoping that would be enough.

He smirked, that same cold expression never leaving his face. “I’m aware,” he murmured, taking another slow step toward you. “You think he’d leave someone like you on your own if he thought you’d be safe?”

Your heart raced, a knot of fear tightening in your throat. You wanted to say something, anything, to stall him, to get yourself out of this, but nothing came to mind. The realization was dawning, and from the look in Victor’s eyes, he knew it too. There would be no bargaining, no reasoning with him.

"Didn't think Logan would be the type to leave someone behind. Guess I was wrong," he said, sounding amused.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, refusing to give in to the fear swirling in your chest. "Logan’s not here," you repeated, your voice firm.

"Like I said, I know," Victor replied smoothly, taking another step. His eyes traveled over the car, then over you, a twisted curiosity behind them. "But I figure, maybe you can pass along a little message for me."

Every instinct told you to run, but the car blocked you in, and Victor was only feet away. "What do you want, Victor?"

He grinned, his sharp teeth glinting under the dim light. "Simple. Tell Logan I said 'hi'... if you get the chance."

The dread in your stomach crystallized as he lunged forward. You tried to move, to react, but he was too fast. His hand closed around your throat, lifting you out of the car as though you weighed nothing, and you fought, kicking, clawing, anything you could think of to get free.

"You know," Victor’s voice was disturbingly calm, "he’s been through a lot. But there’s always that soft spot, that weakness he can’t seem to shake."

Desperation flared within you, and you kicked harder, one foot making contact with his chest. It only made him laugh, and he tightened his grip, his face drawing close enough that you could see the cold cruelty in his eyes.

"You’re just like all the others," he murmured, voice almost thoughtful. "Maybe a little more stubborn, but that’s hardly new."

Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision, your breath coming shorter and shorter. You knew there was no getting out of this—not with him, not with a monster like Victor Creed.

But Logan...

---

Logan walked through the vegetation right by where he and the other guys were cutting apart a tree. He stopped short once he saw the head of an animal laying on the yellow grass.

“What you doing, Logan?” One of the guys asked from behind.

Logan looked around before seeing large scratch marks on a tree trunk, lined with red. “Y/N.” He whispered, before running down the hill and through the forest.

Once he hit the clearing, he could see the truck on the side of the road. Logan reached the car, his hands gripping the window frame as he scanned the empty interior. “Y/N…?” His voice was rough, the crack of worry breaking through, echoing in the quiet forest.

His eyes darted down to the disturbed earth, faint scuff marks in the dirt telling him where you might’ve been dragged. His heart hammered as he followed the path into the trees, every step growing heavier with dread as he moved through the dense underbrush, the silence unsettling.

And then, in a small clearing, he found you.

You were lying there, so still, your skin pale against the forest floor, hair fanned around you like a dark halo. Blood flecked the ground, stark and terrible against the greenery. He staggered, dropping to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, one of them clenching briefly before he let himself touch you.

“Y/N…” he whispered, voice breaking as he cupped your face, his fingers brushing a smear of dirt from your cheek. Your eyes were closed, lips parted just slightly, as if you’d been trying to say his name. For a split second, he could almost pretend you were just asleep, and that any second you’d open your eyes, make some joke, or reach up to tug him down to you.

But there was no warmth, no spark, nothing.

Logan’s breath caught, and he pulled you close, his arms cradling you as if he could shield you from the reality already etched into his heart. The rage simmered below his skin, burning through the grief, fueling the ache with something primal. He rocked back, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his face buried in your hair, trying to hold on to any last trace of you, the faint scent of you still lingering, even as everything around him felt like it was falling apart.

“You… You were supposed to be safe here,” he whispered against your hair, voice hoarse. “I shoulda been here. I shoulda…” His words trailed off into silence as he sat there, unmoving, clutching you in his arms as if the weight of his grief alone could pull you back.

He looked down at you, his thumb grazing over your cheek one last time, as though trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. “Y/N… I swear… I’ll make him pay.” The last words came out like a promise, a vow laced with the kind of anger only a man like Logan could bear. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before letting out a long, broken breath.

When he finally tore his gaze away from you, his eyes turned cold, a new resolve searing through him.

This wasn’t over.

umm... sorry??

i tried to make a different version of how logan got the name 'wolverine' to try and fit reader's personality, since she probably doesn't know about the myth kayla did.

next chapter will be x2!

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #i love you in every time

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fatliberation · 10 months ago

Note

Freddie Mercury was bisexual though

Nope, this is false! 🏳️‍🌈 Freddie was gay, there’s a lot of misinformation out there about his non-existent affairs with women, and much of it can be chalked up to a shit biographer named Lesley Ann Jones (aka my arch nemesis).

I've been deeply fascinated by Freddie Mercury and studying his personal life for years and years so excuse the following infodump (or jump in for a queer history lesson!)

Contrary to popular belief, Freddie was an out gay man. “Gay as a daffodil, my dear!” He’s clearly stated his sexuality in a handful of interviews; “I’ve done all that but I’m gay. Mary was my last woman.” (This interview was removed from youtube but you can find it mentioned in Freddie Mercury: A Life, in His Own Words which is a compilation of his actual quotes from interviews over the years.) Those statements got buried from the media in favor of promoting his more promiscuous quotes like "Darling, I'm doing everything with everybody." (Journalists LOVE to include this quote when talking about his AIDS...) He did purposely retain an aura of mystique around his sexuality, especially because it was much safer (trendy, even) for musicians to flirt with bisexuality than to be openly homosexual back then.

Here's a quote from Peter "Phoebe" Freestone, Freddie's personal assistant of twelve years, close friend, and "agony aunt" in his memoir, Freddie Mercury: An Intimate Memoir by the Man Who Knew Him Best:

"When the interview appeared, it was half the length that he imagined it would be. When confronted, Judy Wade said that it would have been impossible to have printed the whole text. She said she was holding back for his benefit, not for hers. Admissions such as, ‘I'm just going for a line and I'll be back in half-a-minute,’ would not have done anyone any good. However, she was fully prepared to underline in her second sentence that admission of being a fully 'out' gay man, although this does not lay the later myth which was popular which claimed that Freddie had never admitted his gayness."

Freddie's close friend Thor Arnold, a gay man and member of the "New York Daughters" (Freddie's gay friend group in NYC, of course Freddie was "mother!") corrected misinformation when fans on the Queenzone forum argued that Freddie was bi:

"Freddie NEVER tried to hide to his friends that he was TOTALLY gay. In his industry, he had to hide it to some extent although as I have said before, he certainly gave clues. This is the same man who came up with the name QUEEN for his band. This is the man who dressed very sexually, ambiguously 'glam' up until 1980. This is the man who threw an Easter bonnet party and had us all create Easter hats. This is the man who used the term darling (or Dahling) more than he used proper names, and renamed his friends with old actresses names (…) I've never seen Freddie look twice at a woman but I have seen him look 3 or 4 times at an attractive man and say, 'Thor, Thor... Oh just look at him... Just gorgeous. I'd love some of THAT' We were genuine friends of Freddie and he would never hide that he was really bi. FREDDIE WAS A GAY MAN through and through...everyone...please get used to it."

LAJ, the biographer I previously mentioned, worked VERY hard to straight-wash Freddie in her book by erasing his gay relationships. She was obsessed with his relationship with Mary Austin and is the main reason modern journalists consider Freddie to have been in profound, romantic love with her his whole life. In reality, they dated for a few years in the 70s and remained close friends after they split up (because Freddie was having affairs with his boyfriend). However, he did rely on her as his "beard" to keep up with appearances for the press.

LAJ completely skipped over Freddie's first official boyfriend, saying it was "a covert fling with a young theatre." His name was David Minns. Freddie loved him so much he left Mary to be with him. They were in a serious relationship for three years.

If you're a Freddie fan, you're familiar with Mary's story of him coming out to her, saying "I think I'm bisexual," and her response, "I think you're gay." This story is probably not the truth. Mary has been very inconsistent with her story of how Freddie came out to her.

Another version she told for BBC Radio:

"I don’t know what sparked the conversation. But I remember standing in the kitchen and he was trying desperately to articulate how he was feeling, and his lifestyle and I just said, 'so you are telling me you're gay?' And he just smiled and 'we'll take it as a yes, you know, we'll leave it at that.' And that was it, it has been a long road getting to that point."

Honestly, I am a bit mistrustful of Mary Austin's intentions in general. If you're curious as to why, this post is a good primer on the ways she might have betrayed Freddie's wishes, namely being cruel to his chosen family after his passing.

Freddie only had one other girlfriend before Mary in college, Rosemary Pearson. When asked about Freddie on ITV's This Morning show, she said that he was more interested in her male friends than in her, and she suspected then that he was gay. This was in the 60s.

LAJ refers to his relationships with women throughout her book, but she doesn't list any names. That's because they don't exist. I could name at least seven of Freddie's boyfriends off of the top of my head. Minnsy. Joe Fanelli. Tony Bastin. Vince the Barman. Bill Reid. Winnie Kirchberger. And of course, his husband Jim Hutton, whom he spent the last six years of his life with.

There is one name that LAJ has chosen to platform and exaggerate her importance, and that's German pornstar Barbara Valentin. If you've heard of her, you might think she had a relationship with Freddie in the 80s, you might have heard the story where he had wild threesomes with her, that they lived together, that he even proposed to her. Not one word of it is true. Freddie hung around Barbara during his time in Munich because she was his 'in' to gay clubs and cocaine dealers. She also served as his English translator and conveniently, another beard for the press.

Not a single person in Freddie’s life has ever corroborated that Freddie and Barbara were anything but friends. As for the claim they lived together, according to Peter Freestone:

“In the event, Freddie never actually lived there although Barbara fulfilled a huge role in Freddie’s life at that time… Freddie became very disillusioned when with more and more frequency articles were appearing in the German press’s gossip columns… about the relationship between him and Barbara… After one article claiming to have knowledge of him and Barbara getting married, Freddie concluded that it could only be Barbara who was providing the information.”

(He was actually living with his Bavarian boyfriend of the time, Winnie Kirchberger.) Freddie stopped seeing Barbara after he found out she was gossiping about being his lover and these stories started appearing in the newspapers. Barbara continued these lies after Freddie's death, making up ludicrous lies like how Freddie tried to kill her by smothering her with a pillow?? She also claimed that he put her at risk of contracting AIDS by having sex with her after his diagnosis in 1987, which is the lie that burns the most. Freddie stopped having sex altogether before his diagnosis because he was terrified of contracting it. Before there was any information of how it was transferred, he showered compulsively. There is such a fucked up narrative that Freddie threw caution to the wind and wasn't careful during the epidemic, that it somehow fits this twisted narrative that his death was a result of his immoral lifestyle. That's the pervasive homophobia that stained the Bohemian Rhapsody biopic.

LAJ is one of those biographers who publishes their books after the celebrity has died, so they wouldn’t be able to deny the information being written in the book. So if there's anything to learn here, is that you can't always trust a biography!

Anyway, Freddie was gay as a daffodil my dears, and he deserved better.

#inbox #freddie mercury #queen #queen band #queer history #gay history #pride #pride month

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volkswagonblues · 5 months ago

Text

a bibliography for us Daniel Malloy freaks

(a loosely pulled-together reading list about print journalism, New York, the 1970s & 80's, and the AIDS Crisis. Most of the credit goes to @islandbetweenrivers who started this)

On Daniel Molloy, California Boy

The show never explicitly states if Daniel went to college, but since college students were exempt from the Vietnam draft, which ended officially in 1973, it could be interesting to imagine Daniel in Berkeley.

Slouching Toward Bethlehem by Joan Didion

The White Album by Joan Didion

Berkeley Barb archives (link) -- weekly underground newspaper that ran in Berkeley between '65 to '80

The Daily Cal First 150 Years (link) -- student newspaper at Berkeley

On Journalism

Iphigenia in Forest Hills by Janet Malcolm

From her reporter's seat, Malcolm observes that a trial is merely "a contest between competing narratives". (Guardian review)

The Journalist and the Murderer by Janet Malcolm

“"Every journalist who is not too stupid or too full of himself to notice what is going on knows that what he does is morally indefensible," wrote Malcolm in an opening sentence that caused a sensation in the tiny, self-referential world of posh American journalism.” (Guardian review)

The Freaks Came Out to Write: The Definitive History of the Village Voice by Trisha Romano

“The Voice’s origins were proudly amateurish. One early contributor was a homeless man recruited from a local street; equipment consisted of two battered typewriters, an ink-splattering mimeograph machine and a waste paper basket for rejected submissions. Morale spiked when a staff member discovered that dried pods used in fancy flower arrangements contained opium, which was boiled up in the office when the time came for a coffee break.” (Guardian review)

Note: The Village Voice was THE alt-weekly newspaper and it was run out of Greenwich Village in NYC. Lots of incredible writers start there and then move onto the Times, Vanity Fair, etc. Very much the sort of crowd a young Daniel would be mixed in circa 70's and 80's.

The Night of the Gun, by David Carr

David Carr redefines memoir with the revelatory story of his years as an addict and chronicles his journey from crack-house regular to regular columnist for The New York Times. Built on sixty videotaped interviews, legal and medical records, and three years of reporting, The Night of the Gun is a ferocious tale that uses the tools of journalism to fact-check the past. (amazing rec from @archive-z)

Note: imagine if Daniel did this and then fact-checked his way into remembering that vampires existed

Rogues: True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels and Crooks by Patrick Radden Keefe

Keefe can paint complicated portraits of victims and vigilantes alike while covering their lonely pursuit of justice. He intuits why a Dutch woman who has exposed the crimes of her gangster brother might lie about her present whereabouts. He understands why a man who lost his brother in an aeroplane bombing might spend the rest of his life trying to find the culprit. Again and again, Keefe surmises that even the most detailed of investigations can only speculate about human motives. (Guardian review)

Note: the sort of deeply human longform profiles that feels like the sort of writing Daniel does, based on his masterclass clip and what he reveals in his interactions with Louis

On New York, New York (in the 70s)

Notes from Underground, by Eric Bogosian + Perforated Heart, by Eric Bogosian

In four billion years the sun will explode. But before that we'll run out of fresh water and before that we'll all die of some mutation of AIDS that's spread by coughing. It's not my fault anyway. I can't think about this any more today. I'm going to masturbate.

Note: The OG. What else is there to say.

Ladies and Gentleman, the Bronx is Burning: 1977, Baseball, Politics, and the Battle for the Soul of a City by Jonathan Mahler

In the long sweep of American history, of course, 1977 is not exactly 1865, 1941, 1968 or 2001. Yet from porn shops to gay bathhouses, from Yankee Stadium to City Hall, from the blackout to Son of Sam, from Rupert Murdoch's New York Post to the rise of SoHo and Studio 54, the city was living through what Mahler convincingly calls "a transformative moment . . . a time of decay but of rehabilitation as well.” (New York Times review)

Remain in Love: Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club, Tina, by Chris Franz (2020)

Frantz’s account of the early days, when the Heads lived in the pre-gentrified Lower East Side of New York, an almost literal war zone. While searching for a loft to live in, they viewed one building that was on fire. One spring afternoon, Frantz walked over to the now-legendary club CBGB to ask for a gig. The place smelt of “beer, roach spray, dog doo [the owner, Hilly Kristal, had a free-roaming saluki] and Chanel No 5”.

Winter’s Journal, by Paul Auster

Note: To me, Auster is one of the closest real-life Daniel Malloy analogues: born around 1950, literary career in NYC, moved to Paris in the 1970s for a few years, troubled middle-class background. Novelist though, not a journalist. There’s an anecdote in this book about a car crash that feels like a deadass Devil’s Minion fever dream. Crazy stuff. One of my personal favourites

On the AIDS Crisis

And the Band Played On, by Randy Shilts

The book chronicles the discovery and spread of the human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) and acquired immune deficiency syndrome (AIDS) with a special emphasis on government indifference and political infighting—specifically in the United States—to what was then perceived as a specifically gay disease

The Journalist of Castro Street: The Life of Randy Shilts, by Andrew E. Stoner

Biography of Randy Shilts that’s very helpful for imagining Daniel in the early 1980s newsrooms covering Karposi’s sarcoma

How to Survive a Plague: The Story of How Activists and Scientists Tamed AIDS by David France (2017)

It’s not easy to balance solid journalism with intimate understanding of a subject, and even harder to write eloquently about a disease that’s killing your friends and loved ones. France pulls it off, in his own words (his description of finding a college roommate’s panel in the AIDS Memorial Quilt is heartbreaking) and in letting his articulate sources speak for themselves. (SF Gate review)

Timeline of AIDS (link)

Overview of HIV (link)

And some films, just for fun

The Panic in Needle Park (1971): Drama film directed by Jerry Schatzberg. Al Pacino is a heroin addict and small-time dealer in Manhattan who falls in love with another addict.

Serpico (1973): biographical crime drama film directed by Sidney Lumet. Al Pacino is a hippie cop (yes, I know, its part of the plot) with one foot in the 1970s bohemian art scene

American Graffiti (1973): teen movie set in 1973 Modesto ("I'm just a shitty kid from Modesto"--Danny Malloy)

The Taking of Pelham 123 (1974): More grimy 1970s NYC stuff

All the President’s Men (1976): THE ABSOLUTE JOURNALISM MOVIE??

Star Wars: A New Hope (1977)

Cruising (1980): 1980 crime thriller written and directed by William Friedkin. Al Pacino is a cop (again) but this time he goes undercover in NYC gay leather clubs

Almost Famous (2000): Set in 1973, it chronicles the funny and often poignant coming of age of 15-year-old William, an unabashed music fan who gets the chance to write for Rolling Stone

Spotlight (2015): More journalism movies! The true story of how the Boston Globe uncovered the massive scandal of child molestation and cover-up within the local Catholic Archdiocese

everyone say thank you to @islandbetweenrivers for starting this, I just polished up our google docs and posted it on tumblr.

Also if anyone has something to add please let me know!

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #daniel malloy #iwtv fic #im serious i think there's so much more we can add to this list

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gunsandspaceships · 3 months ago

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MCU Timeline: Thor: The Dark World

"Before the birth of light" - Darkness. The emergence and reign of the Dark Elves.

~5000 years - life expectancy of Asgardians.

Every 5000 years - the cycle of convergence in the Nine Realms.

~3000 BC (5000 years ago) - previous convergence in the Nine Realms. Malekith creates the Aether from the Reality Stone and attempts to turn the universe back into darkness, but is defeated by Bor, Odin's father. Bor hides the Aether. Malekith escapes with the remnants of his army and goes into hibernation for the next 5000 years.

June 13, 1951 - Erik Selvig is born in Stockholm, Sweden.

Early May 2012 - Odin sentences Loki to life imprisonment in the dungeons of Asgard.

May 2012 - November 13, 2013 - Rebuilding of the Bifrost. Thor brings order to the Nine Realms.

November 13, 2013 (Day in Asgard/Night in the UK) - The Battle of Vanaheim.

November 14, 2013 (Night in Asgard/Day in the UK):

Asgardians celebrate their victory.

~11:30 am - naked Selvig goes on a rampage at Stonehenge. He is arrested.

~1 pm - Jane is at a restaurant on a date with Richard. Darcy takes her to the site of the gravitational anomaly.

~1:30 pm - Jane becomes infected with the Aether.

Malekith awakens.

~6:30 pm - Jane wakes up back on Earth. Thor comes and takes her to Asgard.

November 14, 2013 (Day in Asgard/Night in the UK):

Morning in Asgard - Asgardian healers perform diagnostics on Jane and discover Aether in her body. Odin tells Thor and Jane the story of the relic.

Algrim, a dark elf, is sent to Asgard disguised as a prisoner.

Noon - Thor explains the Convergence to Jane. Jane meets Frigga.

Afternoon - Algrim uses the last Kurse stone of the Dark Elves and becomes the Kursed. He escapes from his cell and starts a prison riot, leaving Loki in his cell.

Malekith attacks Asgard in his spaceship. Harrow, with him on board, crash lands in Odin's palace. Kurse kills Frigga. Enraged, Thor burns half of Malekith's face with lightning, but the Dark Elves manage to escape.

November 15, 2013 (Night in Asgard/Day in the UK):

Frigga's funeral. Loki is informed of her death.

In the UK, Erik Selvig is in custody for psychiatric evaluation.

Malekith heals from his burns.

November 15, 2013 (Day in Asgard/Night in the UK):

Odin detains Jane to guard the Aether from Malekith. Thor argues with Odin about the course of action.

In London, Darcy and Ian watch the news about Selvig on TV.

Evening in Asgard - Thor asks Heimdall for help.

November 16, 2013 (Night in Asgard/Day in the UK):

Thor and Co plan their treason.

Darcy and Ian take Erik from custody.

November 16, 2013 (Day in Asgard/Night in the UK):

Morning - Thor makes a deal with Loki and frees him from the dungeons.

Sif takes Jane out of house arrest.

Afternoon - Thor, Jane and Loki take the Harrow of the Dark Elves and head out of Asgard. Jane collapses from weakness because she refused to eat breakfast.

Thor, Jane and Loki come to Svartalfheim, the realm of the Dark Elves.

November 17, 2013 (Night in Asgard/Day in the UK):

The trio trick Malekith into taking the Aether from Jane. She learns of his plans to turn the universe into dark matter. Thor attempts to destroy the relic, but it proves indestructible. Malekith absorbs the Aether and escapes. Loki kills Kurse, but "dies" from the wound.

~7 pm (London) - Thor and Jane find a cave connected to Earth via the convergence. Richard calls Jane from work. Thor and Jane return to London.

~8 pm - they reunite with Darcy, Erik and Ian in Jane's lab/flat.

November 17, 2013 (Day in Asgard/Night in the UK):

Disguised as an Einherjar guard, Loki returns to Asgard, sends enchanted Odin to Earth (Shady Acres Care Home in NYC), and takes the throne.

Jane, Thor, Erik, Darcy and Ian prepare a plan of action to stop Malekith in Greenwich.

November 18, 2013 (Night is Asgard/Day in the UK):

The convergence.

The Battle of Greenwich.

~November 20, 2013 (Day in Asgard/Night in the UK) - conversation between Thor and Loki as Odin.

10:42 am in London, ~November 21, 2013:

Thor comes back to Jane and stays on Earth.

End of 2013/Early 2014 - Volstagg and Sif bring the Reality Stone to the Collector.

MCU Phase One Timelines Iron Man 3 Timeline

#marvel #mcu #thor #thor the dark world #loki #mcu timeline #jane foster #erik selvig #darcy lewis #asgard

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leascorner · 4 months ago

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j.b.b. | First Christmases

Summary: A series of firsts for Bucky around Christmas time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x coffeeshop owner!f!reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N and feminine pronoums, a few mentions of trauma and food, probably inacurate facts about NYC as I've never been but who cares

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is the first Xmas OS of the series. I've been wanted to do this series for a couple of years now, so excited. Please do share and like if you enjoyed it, it means a lot!

2024 Christmas Masterlist | Main Masterlist

As friends

“Here,” Y/N hand appeared in front of Bucky’s face.

His sleep-deprived eyes looked away from the windows to discover the cup of tea Y/N was handing him. A smell of orange and cinnamon immediately tickled Bucky's nostrils. It smelt exactly like he remembered Christmas to smell like. One of the few memories he was sure it hadn’t been corrupted by Hydra and that morning he was grateful for it.

Bucky nodded to thank her and watched silently as she took place on the stool next to him. It was one of the few slow mornings the coffeeshop had during the year. With the holidays coming up, busy New Yorkers had slowly started to leave and were replaced by tourists. Those ones seemed to live on a totally different schedule and during those times, the busiest time of the shop was usually around ten a.m. instead of seven.

He quickly detailed her figure. She was wearing her usual green apron on top of a thick sweater. This winter, the weather had been dry, but freezing. Even with a lot of clothes on, a beanie and gloves, it had been pure torture for Bucky to walk the two blocks between the Avengers Tower and the shop that morning. He couldn’t even feel the hot cup in his hands as his fingers were still so cold.

Looking back through the store front, Bucky continued to do what he was doing before Y/N joined him: watching the streets slowly waking up. In the dark, all he could see was the lights of New York. The city was brighter than the Christmas Tree in the Avengers Tower’s lobby. For anyone having seen it, it wouldn’t be possible (yes, it was this bright!); yet, from where he was sitting, Bucky found the sight breath taking.

It looked nothing like the New York he had known. Of course, they already had electricity back then. However, those lights they had given the streets a much more muted ambiance. He had never taken the time back then to study the city – too busy living his life like any young adult; yet he was sure if he did, he would have found the same comfort he felt today.

This was home. His home. And even after all those years, he had finally come back. Damned the guilt or the nightmares that kept him awake so late at night or made it difficult for him to sleep at all. Damned the probation the judge had felt was necessary when Steve brought him back and the fact that he, for now, had to live in a narrow perimeter. He was right where he belonged.

Suddenly, Y/N trembled with joy on his left. Bucky furrowed his brows, and she pointed out to the portion of sky they could see from here. She showed him a small white object in movement that was so small Bucky had to squint his eyes before he finally saw it too.

It was snowing.

“It’s not really a Christmas in New York without snow,” Y/N softly spoke. From the sound of her voice, Bucky could hear the smile imprinted on her lips.

This sentence, he had heard it before. It was exactly what Rebecca – his sister – would say on the few years snow had taken its sweet time to lay a thin white layer on the streets of Brooklyn. Y/N and her were more alike than he had originally thought. Of course, he had thought of his sister when he first met her. Y/N like Rebecca was always content, eager to live and to share with others. One of the few that had kept her innocence even going in adult age.

Y/N had been one of the first person he met in New York after Steve brought him back. He needed a place to escape the tower’s agitation, and he found this coffee shop with a door open and a nice smell he couldn’t quite tell what it was. He had bought a tea, and she had offered him a part of the pie of the day; it was the most delicious plum pie he had ever eaten. He came back every week for six months straight – officially, to try on more pies; unofficially, he just liked being here. He always sat on the same chair, near the window, watching the business of New York while he tried to calm the storm in his chest. Somehow, it was relaxing. He felt like he was in a bubble out of time while the rest of the world continued to run its course. She had been let him be, always welcoming him with a warm smile and she waited for him to accustom before starting to exchange more than a few trivialities.

Y/N was a good friend. Not forcing him to speak when he didn’t want to. Being here in silence to keep him company - they didn’t need many words; silence would speak for themselves. Accompanying him as he worked out his trauma and guilt. She truly was a light full of life, and she was as bright as New York.

Bucky nursed the drink in his hand, watching as the snow seemed to fall in slow motion. As it snowed and it snowed some more, and with every snowflake, the weight on his chest lifted. His thoughts only focus on the present. It was so appeasing that he could feel his eyelids become heavy. At his side, he could feel Y/N’s body heat irradiating and warming him up. He felt so relaxed that he decreed that if he could, he would stay like this forever.

Somewhere in the distance, a church bell rang and suddenly, he remembered what day it was. It was Christmas. A holiday he just knew he would love from now on. Especially if he spent it with her.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

She turned to him and smiled sweetly. One of her smiles that made his heart flutter for some reason.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

As a couple

“What was it like?”

Bucky, to whom Y/N was sitting back against his belly, inhaled, eyes slowly closing. They had stayed in the Avengers Tower today while the first snow covered New York City of its famous white coat. Y/N had watched a couple of Christmas TV show and Bucky stayed cuddled at her side, feeling absolutely content of his situation. She was now reading, and Bucky was slowly falling asleep.

“What was it like Christmas before-”, she carefully chose her words, “before the war?”

Y/N sat up between Bucky’s leg to be able to look at him and his sleepy figure.

“Well, it was much simpler I feel like.”

Y/N looked at him silently. It wasn’t frequent Bucky would discuss his life before Steve got him back to America. While he never discussed his time with Hydra, he also discussed very little of the war and even less of his life before the war. She knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime occasion and that she had to listen up.

“We would have Christmas dinner. Really simple. Tomato Soup. Turkey. Mashed potatoes,” he enumerated. “A bit of pudding- and that was it.”

Y/N nodded. Bucky reached out to bring a string of hair behind her ears. Slowly, she cupped his hand in her own and brought it to her lips to kiss his knuckles. Smiling, he brought her closer, her side now lying on him.

Stroking her hair, he continued: “It was a small dinner, just the four of us. Father, Mother, Rebecca and me.”

One of his hands had started to roll a string of her hair around one of his fingers. It was something Y/N would sometimes catch him doing, mindlessly.

“Would Steve celebrate with you sometimes?”

“Yes, his mom and him did a few times. On Christmas day, we would all go to church.”

Looking up to him, Y/N noticed how his eyes had become clouded suddenly. It looked like ache; ache of not being able to live more moments with his family ever again. He was still grieving his past life and his family; it would always be a part of him missing.

“You know, we would wrap present in newspapers.”

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow. “So Tony wasn’t so much of a pioneer as he thought he was.”

“No, I just think he was just lazy.”

Y/N laughed softly, and Bucky brought her closer to him. In the few months they had officially been together, Y/N had brought him so much. If he did have a lot of regrets about his life, he would never trade what he had now for what he had back then. He wouldn’t even trade watching silly Christmas TV movies with a Y/N snuggled with him on a cold winter day for all the gold in the world.

“We could bring tomato soup and turkey to Rebecca next weekend. What do you think?”

Bucky’s eyes shinned of a special spark; he swore she couldn’t make his heart fuller. “Yes, I’m sure she would like it.”

It was moments like this he would treasure forever.

In their first shared appartement

“That’s way too big!”

Bucky, a few steps away, turned around a smirk on his face, eyes laughing. Y/N rolled her eyes and while he got closer, nudged his shoulder though a smile also drew on her lips. She turned to the pine tree that he had previously shown her. It was enormously large and probably as high as the ceiling in their apartment in Brooklyn. From where she was standing, she could smell its perfume, just like one of the candles she loved.

“I think it would look great in our living room.”

“We don’t even have furniture yet!”

They had both just signed the lease of the first flat that they would live together in. They had gotten the keys when on their way back to the Avengers Tower, Bucky had insisted to stop to the Christmas Tree Shop a few blocks down.

“I have everything I need.”

“But a Christmas tree,” Y/N argued.

He laughed.

Looking around, Y/N reviewed the other trees. Too small. Too few thorns. Not enough dense. Nothing quite comparable to the specimen in front of them.

“Alright, alright.” Y/N consented. “But I am the one to put the star at the top.”

Bucky hugged her, kissing the top of her head before searching for the owner of the farm shop to buy the tree.

A few hours later, Bucky had already picked up the tree and put it up in their living room. It was now the dreadful part – unfolding the Christmas lights they had just bought. They did so as Bucky told her the story of when his parents had brought his first Christmas tree home, when he was not even ten years old. He had stars in his eyes and Y/N was glad to see him this happy. It made her heart swell with happiness and pride to have him opening up to her, trusting her.

It took them a good hour to decorate it properly and after Y/N had put the star at the top – just like Bucky had promised, they took a few steps back in the middle of their empty living room to stare at it.

“It’s beautiful,” Y/N muttered, wrapping one arm around Bucky’s waist.

“It’s ours”, Bucky smiled down at her, “forever.”

Y/N snuggled closer against Bucky, and she tried to memorize the sight in front of them. The sight of their first Christmas tree in their first home. It was like all the pieces of a puzzle finally coming together. It felt like everything at that moment had meant for her to be right here, right then with him.

“I love you.”

On their honeymoon

“This is so odd,” Y/N mumbled as she sat down at the breakfast table.

Bucky was sat in front of her, sunglasses on his nose, forehead sun kissed by the last few days he had spent in the sun. He watched as the fabric of her white beach dress hugged her features and left little to his imagination.

Drinking a cup of black coffee, he eyed her greedily. Though he knew what she was referring to – as any New Yorkers used to white Christmas Days, the sand under their feet and the salty air were definitively disconcerting – he couldn’t help saying: “I could get used to it.”

“Stop it,” she hid her face in her hands. Her left ring finger caught his eyes again. There sat a small diamond and another golden ring holding it into place. It still made his heart flutter to see them, as if he hadn’t realized just yet.

Even after all this time together, her cheeks still got hot when he would praise her. And praised her, he did. Ever since they had arrived in the Bahamas for some well-deserved time off after the crazy year that they had had, they had not left their room a lot. Their time had been dedicated to reminding themselves of how much they loved each other. It was as if they had to prove each other that getting married did not change anything to their love, if anything it had made their love stronger…

Bucky laughed sweetly at how cute Y/N looked when she was embarrassed. And God, did she love his laugh. She could hear it all day long and she would never get bored of it. She was lucky she would be the one to be able to hear it for the rest of her life.

“I’ve got something for you,” she said suddenly, reaching for her beach bag.

“I thought we said we would open the present when we got home?”

“I’ve never said that.”

“Pretty sure we agreed on it.”

“Don’t only say this because you didn’t bring anything,” she teased.

Bucky arched an eyebrow, eyeing her through his sunglasses. She looked pleased with herself, her lips set in a grin. He would normally be the one to smother her with gifts. Always bringing flowers home unexpectedly. Waking her on a Sunday morning with a breakfast in bed. Buying her those lovely earrings just because he had seen them in the window display and had thought of her. He spoke the five love languages, but gifts were definitively his strongest asset.

“Alright,” he gave in, holding his hand out, “give it to me.”

She handed him a small envelope with only his name written on it. He took all the precaution in the world opening it and his eyes nearly teared up as discovered the Polaroid pictures inside of it. Y/N had made a booklet of their couple over the years. It was a book so small he could fit it in his wallet, next to the photo booth pictures they had taken on their third date at the funfair.

The first picture was probably the first picture they had together, on a snowy Christmas, after Y/N had closed her coffee shop to go and have a walk together in Central Park. Little did she know it was at that exact moment he knew she would have his heart forever. It did take Bucky a couple more months afterwards to finally ask her on a date.

The next couple of pictures were a compilation of their best memories together. Y/N posing next to their first snowman in Central Park. Them and their gelatos in Italy. The two of them when they had played the tourists in their own city. Bucky in his Christmas pyjamas all snuggled up with Alpine.

Obviously, the last picture was from only a couple of weeks ago, the two of them walking down the altar. As husband and wife.

“That way you won’t forget about me when I’m not with you,” Y/N smiled softly. It wasn’t a reminder because he needed to be reminded, but more because she wanted to be with him through everything. That was the kind of promise she had made to him that day at the altar.

Bucky sniffled softly, trying to get rid of the frog he had in his throat. Those pictures made him emotional. It wasn’t nostalgia – even if all those years had flown in the blink of an eye and he wished to relive them over and over. Seeing the pictures of them both, smiling from ear to ear, he felt so loved. Loved of a different love he had never felt before. He who had struggle to find his place, it made him feel so complete and exactly where he was supposed to be.

He would cherish these moments forever while continuing to create new memories. He would cherish the person in front of him for making all his secret dreams come true, to have taking him all – even the darkest parts of him – and to love him endlessly.

“It’s perfect,” he kissed her knuckles.

“You are truly an amazing person, Bucky,” she leaned in to kiss him, “I am so grateful for this life with you and all the rest to come.”

Bucky had promised to give her the world and he would. Starting today, on their first sunny Christmas, on which he would take her snorkelling as one of the first Christmas gift for the day – the other ones patiently waiting for her in his suitcase.

With their kid

“You know they won’t even remember it?” Y/N said to Bucky, who was currently tirelessly wrapping up presents on the living room floor.

It was only a couple of minutes past midnight, and they had only managed to put their little one to sleep in their crib. Both of them were wearing dark eyes circles from the lack of sleep, yet Bucky was insisting on wrapping up the presents he had bought a couple of days ago.

“Go to bed, I’ll be right there.”

“No, I am fine. I’ll help you with the sticky tape.”

Sitting up next to him on the floor, Y/N winced when the scar of her c-section was pulled under her downward movement and Bucky was on his feet in an instant, holding her elbow to help her sit up as if she was an elderly person. She thanked him with a kiss, and he sat cross-legged next to her again.

She took the first present on the pile and handed it to her husband. It was a pyjama so soft it made her think of Alpine. The cat that Bucky rescued a couple of years ago. The cat that shown them both that they were indeed ready to have kids. The cat who was currently performing its duty of watching after their newborn – a mission that since they had gotten home from the hospital, she was taking very seriously.

“Can you believe they won’t be this small forever?” Y/N asked, showing the very little pyjama in her hands to her husband.

“I know,” Bucky sighed, looking up from the wrapping paper he was cutting.

“Is it selfish that I want to keep them with us forever?”

“That’s why we are going to celebrate this Christmas like crazy. They won’t remember, but we will. And we’ll cherish that forever.”

Nodding, Y/N started to cut little pieces of sticky tape and handed them to Bucky. They worked together to wrap up all the rest of the presents - a tissue book about vegetables, a rattle for their teething, a cute fairy light… Once they finished, she watched Bucky arranging all the presents under their Christmas tree.

There lied an enormous number of presents – what they had wrapped up that night was only a couple of them, but there was easily a dozen only for the baby. And this was only their presents. Y/N knew more were to be expected as they would gather later that day for lunch with the rest of the Avengers.

It made her emotional to know how much such a little person could be loved so much. When Bucky looked back to her after having put the final touch on the presents next to the food they had left earlier for Santa Claus, she couldn’t help but wipe the few tears that had fallen down her cheeks. He must have known what she was thinking as he only got back to her and kissed her forehead.

“Come Mama, time to sleep.”

Scooping her gently from the floor, Bucky started to leaving the room. In his arms, looking back at the Christmas tree, the room bathing in the Christmas lights light, Y/N realized how lucky she was. To have met this man. To be loved by him. To have him as the father of her child. She had never loved anyone like she loved them.

However, they were half the way to their bedroom when she realized the only last piece of her ultimate happiness had been left under the Christmas tree.

“Wait Bucky, we forgot the cookies!”

#jbb #lea's writing #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #lea's 2024 christmas series #bucky barnes one shot

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two-white-butterflies · 6 months ago

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maybe this time

Description: Two old friends meet again, wearing older faces. Well, I guess you know how this works.

In which, you have a flawed relationship, a flawed breakup and a flawed reunion with the one that you love the most.

Pairing: lawyer!thranduil/fem!reader (ethnicity not specified)

Warnings: angst, age gap.

AUGUST 2012

It won't end just because I say no.

Three days ago, the worst thing happened. You found an engagement ring in your boyfriend's coat pocket. Gods, yes you envisioned a successful future with him inside of it - but getting married is too soon! "I think we need to talk," you keep your voice low.

You couldn't even look him in the eye, rather you were focused on the herringbone floors of your NYC apartment. His eyes light up at the sight of you. His girlfriend of five-years. His girlfriend who survived the hell of a law-school with him, and stood beside him while he built his law firm from ground up. His girlfriend. His future fiancee.

"What is it about?" He raises an eyebrow, patting the empty spot on the sofa - motioning for you to sit beside him. You reluctantly comply, burying yourself deep into his chest and inhaling his scent of - well, there is nothing that can describe his scent.

"I found something in your coat yesterday," his grip tightens around your waist. "- I don't think I'm ready to get married." you quickly add, not leaving enough time for him to respond.

There were still a million things you wanted to do on your own. "Oh," usually a very composed lawyer, but now unable to form a comprehensible sentence. "I-I," he stumbled in his speech, unaware that his grip loosened around your body and you now moved away.

"I'm sorry for not taking your feelings into account." He apologized. His eyes were watery, he had unbelievable restraint when it came to fighting in court battles but the thought of losing you makes him cry. "Is there any reason for that? If you are comfortable with sharing?" He asks taking unnoticeable deep breaths.

You stare at the floor again, playing with the rings on your finger. "I'm sorry. I don't think that I'm in a place where marriage is a choice yet." You breathed. "- I'm gonna finish med-school this year. I want to be a neurosurgeon. I don't think that I'll be able to balance that while being married and trying to build a family of our own." You explained.

Both of you unwilling to address the elephant in the room.

25 and 34.

It wasn't an age chasm per se, but you were in different points of your lives. Thranduil was already successful - known in his field as the thorn in every defendant's side, and you - well, no one even knew you in the university that you were studying in.

"I don't even know if I want to have children," your voice turns into a whisper at the last sentence. His features merge into something indescribable - sadness and frustration merged into one.

He's a good man. He's never forced you to do something that you didn't want to do with your entire heart, and it is because of that reason - you're mad at him. Because you know that he'll still stand beside you, make the sacrifice of never getting married or never having children if it meant being with you.

You are not God, for anyone to make that sacrifice for.

"That's alright. Children are annoying." He answers, and you chuckle. "You are so good at lying," you mused. "- but I know that kids are the only thing you want in this life." You read him like an open book.

He reaches for your hands, entwining it with his. "Hey, we're going to get through this. I'm glad that you were comfortable enough to talk to me about this. I completely understand and I am not disappointed." He informs, he cages you in an embrace, and you lean deeper into his touch until both of you were slumped on the couch.

"I know that you feel pressured because all your friends are getting married. I don't wanna be that bitch who sounds so selfish-"

"You are not selfish for being yourself. You don't owe me anything." He corrects, pressing a kiss to your forehead. A sigh escapes your mouth. "Remember in our first date, I asked you what your favorite color was." He reminded and you felt blessed to have a lawyer as a boyfriend, for he seldom forgets.

"Mine was magenta, and you didn't even tell me what your favorite color was that day. All you did was tease me about magenta." You chuckled, although that feeling still lingered on your chest.

"Well, I'd live in a magenta house if it meant living with you." Thranduil smiles, and you remember smiling in return. Phew, that worked out better than I imagined.

It's all going to be better in the end. You'll finish med-school, and deal with neurosurgery. Then hopefully, you do get married to him.

Six months later you were chosen to work in a hospital in Singapore. A country known for being a pioneer in Asian healthcare. It was a pleasure to be here, you made a lot of friends - and were able to learn how to do things on your own, without the help of Thranduil.

Thranduil Oropher Went out to grab some groceries. I got grapes but I remembered that you aren't here ):

You might be time to get over your grape-hate 🙏🏻

Thranduil Oropher Never. I gave them to Elrond.

You aww i bet the twins loved it Seen 4:52pm

A sigh escapes your mouth seeing that he was yet to reply to your message. It was 5am in the morning back in NYC.

He's probably asleep or getting ready for work.

The only difficult thing in working in Singapore was the IDL. When he's awake, you're asleep and vice versa. "Made you some coffee," Anchilee offers, placing the cup of joe on your desk. A sigh escapes your mouth. "Thank you," you mumbled taking a sip.

"Having relationship problems?" She asks, and you nod. "It's really tough since he's halfway across the world," you breathed. "It's pretty usual for couples to hit a rocky road especially because of distance. A lot of them break up, but I think your relationship is strong enough to stand against the test of time." She speaks.

Oh yeah, about that. You have doubts.

Your phone rings. Thranduil Oropher is calling... you slide to answer. "Hello?" You ask. "Hi, sorry I'm in the middle of driving." You hear his voice on the other line. "Drive safe, you shouldn't be calling me," you gently scolded him but he responds with a silence - probably focusing on the road. "How are you?" He asks.

Even after all these years, his voice still brings warmth to your soul. "I'm okay, I'm in the middle of my lunch break and I have to shadow an operation later. How about you? You're a little early for work." You make an observation, and he hums. "Early bird gets the worms. But seriously speaking I want to focus on this high-profile case, anyways, you are free next week right?" He strangely asks.

"Yep, I might spend the entire week playing DOTA, which I do not have an addiction to, an intern just recommended the game to me." You put out a quick disclaimer before he could scold you about the dangers of addiction to online games. "Well, put your computer away because I booked tickets to go there. Let's have fun, maybe look around the city since you tell me you've never done." He says.

You wanted to feel happy, but the smile doesn't reach your eyes. I love him, but I'm starting to love being alone by myself. The life that you built here in Singapore. It is lonely, and you like it.

"That's amazing, do you want me to pick you up at the airport?" You inquired, concern still dripping from your tone. "No, I'll take the train and I'll stop by to buy some iced coffee and fries." He narrates his game plan. You don't doubt his ability to navigate a foreign country.

"Ohh, please grab the ones from McDonalds. It'll be better if you buy the McDonalds from there, the fries here don't hit the same." You requested, and he chuckles. "Okay, I will smuggle American fries to Singapore." He promised.

"Thank you, I love you."

"I love you too, goodbye."

"Bye."

(DECEMBER 2018)

Thranduil never came to Singapore. You had a fight a day before his flight. You won't go into the details, but it was horrible - for the lack of better words. There were two types of fights: one that can be fixed by a few hugs and kisses, and some that are much better unresolved.

Six years later, and you want to believe that you've forgotten about him. My December is sad, because I miss you. You hear the music sing from outside of your door, damn, your neighbor always has that speaker on. A sigh escapes your mouth and you opt to put headphones on, "I swear to god," you mumbled while opening your gmail account to check for any important emails.

[email protected] sent an email! Just Now

"What the fuck!" You close your laptop shut.

You open the laptop slightly, as if the email was going to leap out of its feet and jump at you. "Holy fuck, why would he email me?" Your throat suddenly felt dry. You click on the dash and the email appears.

[email protected]

Good evening.

I have a confession to make, the first time I saw you, I liked you.

I've spent a lot of time with people, both men and women, and I've taken them to fancier restaurants than the restaurant you took me on our first date, the only difference was - I liked you, I hated them.

Out of all the people I saw you were the only person to have ordered a pain au chocolat during breakfast. The only person who'd order an iced coffee the first thing in the morning. I told myself, I like this girl. She's going to be my wife.

You have something special inside of you. You have that spirit. You are by far the bravest girl I've ever met. Days, weeks, and months passed. I don't know if it's because you opened your heart to me, but we became lovers. I don't know if it's because I'm good at praying, or if it's just because I'm the lord's chosen. I never thought that love could be this exciting. I love every moment. I love every bit of you.

Your love. Your kindness. Your gentle disposition.

We bared our souls to each other. Because of you, I started believing in myself. I survived through law-school and the struggle of ensuring that my law firm wouldn't fail. Because of you, I found the beauty in law, I started to fight for what I believed in. I began to be a better person. I started to be brave.

Five years together, and I thought we were good. More than five years going on forever, or so I thought. What happened? Why did we break up? I'm writing this email a few weeks after our breakup. Elrond has been scolding me as I've only been staring at my flight tickets for the entire week. I've been calling your phone.

But today, I decided to stop bothering you.

I have decided to let you be, and give you the space that you need. That's why I'm sending this email, six years from today. You'll be thirty-one years old by then. I hope that you are happy. I hope that you were able to do everything that you wanted to do, everything that I stopped you from doing because I wanted you to marry me, because I wanted to chain you to me, unable to comprehend that I was doing the opposite of what you did to me.

I hope that after six years, you're able to decide if you want to be with me forever. I'll wait, knowing that one day, I'll be back. I will do everything it takes to bring you back. I will never lose hope that we will have our second chance.

Yours, Thranduil.

"Shit." The first words that escaped your mouth once you realized that you had been crying. You silently wiped the tears from your eyes. If only you knew that he felt this way back then.

Tauriel hands you a glass of champagne. "Thank you for attending my party. I've been begging you for years now." She places a hand on your back, guiding you to navigate the sea of people in the living room. "I'm really busy in the hospital, and this is my only real weekend after months of waiting." You chuckled, taking a sip of the fizzing champagne.

Honestly, you needed this party after the whirlwind of emotions that you felt last night. "It must suck to be a surgeon, but then again with that paycheck, I'd lick a Walmart bathroom." She whispers the last part in a hush, and a slight giggle escapes your mouth.

"What are we celebrating anyways?" You ask.

"My dad is retiring." She informs, and a chill runs down your spine. Right, her dad works for Thranduil. I hope that he's not here.

"Congratulations, finally the beginning of a well deserved vacation." You forced yourself to speak, finally catching a glimpse of a familiar figure in the crowd. Thranduil, the man that loved you.

He sees you too, and your eyes momentarily meet.

31 and 40.

Tauriel sees your lingering stare. "Oh, that's my dad's boss. Justice Thranduil Oropher, he's single. I think he used to have a girlfriend, but he was too heartbroken and he never dated anyone again." She whispers again, moving you into a more secluded space.

Tauriel is your best friend (in the whole world).

"He's my ex," you blurt out and she almost chokes on her piña colada. "What the fuck!" She yells, her face suddenly red at the sudden reveal of the truth. "Why did you break up with him?" She interrogated.

Obviously, no one in their right mind would ever break up with him. He was everything that a woman desired, tall, handsome, intelligent and rich - and things wouldn't have ended the way it did, if the circumstances had been different. "I get it that you're this beautiful hotshot surgeon, but he's seriously the only man who fits your standards. Correction, the only living man." Tauriel glares at you.

She was going to give you another monologue about how you 'fumbled the bag', but alas you will not give her that chance. "It's a long story. We just had really wrong timing," you shook your head.

It could have ended differently.

You should have said yes to his proposal, regardless of the feelings of sadness you felt at first. "Maybe this time?" Tauriel raised an eyebrow, teasing you. "Maybe not," You giggled.

"Hello," a voice from behind you greets.

This better be -

You are greeted with an unfamiliar face. "I'm Aragorn. Nice to meet you." He greets and you introduce yourself while shaking his hand. He was quite an eccentric looking figure, he had a clean shaven face, and he had a tattoo on his pointer finger.

"Oh you're that guy in the band." You smile, remembering the nights you spent singing his songs. "Yeah, the Fellowship." He confirms.

"- I'm sorry for ambushing you, but I felt alone in a sea filled of distinguished professionals dressed to the nines, and I don't mean to offend but.."

"I'm alone." You cut him off with a chuckle. "- it's alright, I basically have no social life as my work takes up the majority of time." You explained. To other people, being on the call 24/7 was hell, but to you it was the good type of hell - if saving people can be called that. "You are the surgeon friend of Tauriel." He remembers.

"Are you friends with her too?" You inquired and he shakes his head. "A friend of a friend," he corrects.

Before you could reply to him, he glances at the man behind you.

You turn around, and see Thranduil.

"If you will excuse me," Aragorn pats your shoulder.

The sight of him still brings such warm feelings to your heart, filling your body with joy. There was silence between you. A silence that seemed to speak louder than words.

"You still look the same," he breaks the silence. "You look different," you answered. He had a different hairstyle. He wore a black suit instead of the dark blue that he always wears. He smelled like powdery flowers instead of after-shave. He is different.

"I hope that that's a compliment," he cracks a smile.

Wow, you're beginning to sound like two old friends, but he doesn't want to be friends. He doesn't even want to talk to you unless it all goes back to normal. "How you've been?" You asked, mirroring his smile, attempting to navigate a conversation with him. "I've been worst, how about you?" He answers vaguely, no longer able to speak random flowing sentences about small occurrences in his daily life.

His response was a generic response now.

Something that flows languidly out of his tongue.

How are you? I'm okay. Are you alright? Yeah.

"I think I am worst," your nose scrunches up.

He stares at you, the same indescribable look that he wore when you first fought. How about now? His eyes said. Let's try again. His silence said far louder than words. "Do you think that things could have ended more differently?" You inquired, and he is bitterly reminded of your bluntness (a feature he still adores.)

"You got the email," he smiles bitterly.

"I managed to read through it, and I don't really know what to do." You shrugged, the distance between you becoming closer and closer. "You can delete the email." He jokes, "- I felt really guilty when we called things off. I felt like I was losing the love of my life, and I was. I did. But I was also really thankful that it ended, because being alone taught me a lot of things. I'm not the same person anymore." Your teeth burrows into the insides of your cheeks.

"It was the wrong time. We've never good timing," he comments, and you are thrown back into that video you made during New Year's Eve 2010, where you were both a minute too soon in celebrating the New Year. "I'm miserable." You admit.

Five friends. A million dollars in your bank account. A real estate portfolio, and you were miserable.

His features softened.

And you knew that he was miserable too.

"When you're a judge, you learn how to look at life in a different perspective. They say that criminals are vital to society because without them there wouldn't be cops, or lawyers or Justices like me. When you left, I figured that heartbreak is vital because it means that there is more room for love. But despite that, my heart still didn't have room for anyone - no other love other than yours, no other sadness." He takes a step forward, and you were thankful to have been in the secluded part of the gardens.

"- but if you love me just because you love me, that is not an enough reason. Love in its essence cannot feed a starving mouth. There needs to be respect, and kindness. Respect and kindness that was there between us, six years ago, but wasn't strong enough to fight against the test of time." He places his hands on your shoulders.

"Let's start again, as stronger people, and maybe this time it'll be the right timing." You proposed, your eyes having a conversation of its own. Love is always a beating risk, but that is part of the thrill.

A bird falls from its nest to learn how to fly.

"Let's try again, then." He agrees, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

And somehow, that forehead kiss was more intimate than any kiss to the lips.

A/N: will always stand on the fact that if Thranduil was in the modern era he'd be a lawyer or a businessman. I always end up choosing lawyer cuz of personal opinions.

If you love my Thranduil fics just follow me and turn the notifs on. I unfortunately don't have enough time to do tags :((

Inspired by Starting Over Again (2014) although, I am not a Toni Gonzaga defender.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil fanfic #thranduil imagines #thranduil wife #thranduil #modern thranduil #thranduil imagine #x reader #reader insert #reader insert request #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit smut

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aestheticpebbles · 6 months ago

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Saturday October 19th,2024 New York Comic Con

So I took a solo trip to NYCC and attended, let alone dressed up for such an event, for the first time. (I literally assembled my cosplay within a week bc I got my hair dyed the previous Friday, and my best friend pushed me off the ledge out of my comfort zone and encouraged me to dress up!).

Somehow, one of the absolute WORST weeks of my life due to major personal life issues between my car engine exploding in the middle of the woods in north carolina, being forced to stay in georgia until literally 5:30pm THE NIGHT BEFORE (FLEW up I-85N to the closest airport when I could finally leave. delta literally saved my life when I managed to catch a flight leaving at 7pm to go back home where ALL of my cosplay outfit pieces)straight up $🔥🔥🔥 hurt so bad but I was NOT missing this event for anything)) landed at 11:30pm and ended up just pulling an all-nighter to get ready and drive 3 hours back to nyc. my layover was in laguardia and it hurt so bad to know I had to turn around and drive right back past it LOL. however, the week I was PRAYING for to end, still ended off to be an incredible first-time experience thanks to these two, and everyone else I met who attended!

Someone sedate me. How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing the very first words he said were “wow, look at you”, and then “I’ll sign whatever you want” at the table? talk about giving me a free lobotomy on the spot bc I couldn’t formulate a single sentence. Matt was so nice too!! I wish I was able to interact w him more but im so thankful that I was able to get a duo picture.

tom autographed a copy of our solo pic together, and I didn’t even make it out of nyc on saturday night before running to the first target I saw to grab 4 8x10 photo frames.

I circled back around the line after realizing he was willing to sign my crown too and he had his white pen out and ready!! 😭😭 I was so excited and awkwardly laughing bc I was flustered as hell that I walked right by the swau booth. completely forgot that I added the up charge to have them authenticate it, but I guess it doesn’t matter all that much because this crown will only be pried from my cold, dead hands.

Jokingly told my mom to bury the crown with me and a few other trinkets like a pharaoh’s tomb if you will. I got an odd side glance from her. Reminded me of Penguins of Madagascar’s “smile and wave boys… smile and wave….😬😀”

I didn’t even realize Tom wasn’t feeling well and had to leave early because of how bright his smile was, and how responsive he was both when taking pictures and signing autographs.

Dream come true! 💚💚 blushing, giggling, swinging and kicking my feet.

gotta lock it in, im literally yapping right now… not done yet though :)

spay me for saying this— i cant tell what i enjoyed more about meeting him: seeing his toothy smile, or smelling his cologne, or learning what the IRL height difference is? 🤤🫠

okay yall imma shut up now but OMG!!! im obsessed with how good these pictures came out! im so excited to receive more. I hope everyone who attended had an amazing time!!

#tomglynncarney #tom glynn carney #matt smith #aegon targaryen ii #house of the dragon #hotd #aegon the second #king aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #hotd daemon #comic con #nycc 2024 #nycc24 #tgc nycc

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fruity-mega-coconut69 · 2 years ago

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I Love You

[pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

[Summary]: After all the hell you've been through, you find peace in a certain brunette who has turned your life life upside down

[warnings]: Kissing, making out, swearing, Scream VI spoilers (not much)

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12 years ago your 7 year old self would never have believed you if you said that you were here. In New York, in college and having a beautiful girlfriend. But how would she? When 12 years ago was the day it all changed. That day or night when you could’ve just turned around and went back to the Sheldons’ place to that boring birthday party. But instead, you went home and almost got butchered by your sister’s best friend. Of course it wasn’t planned for you to come home and all, but they still needed to go on with their plan so they tried to finish it all up.

Although you weren’t dead for even a second-unlike your sister- it sure felt like it. The pain that you felt that day. 7 stab wounds and a bullet in the leg. The doctors said it was a miracle. But for you it wasn’t, couldn't really walk for a month and the kids at school made fun of your scars whenever you were changing for PE. It was a curse and for a long time you wished it had gone a different way, but eventually you got home-schooled and then went to college in New York.

You never kept in touch with anyone from Woodsboro. Well expect Kirby, your sister but that was kind of impossible. You and Kirby’s parents gave you lots of money whenever they went on a business trip. You never really needed anything then some food and clothes so there was a lot of money left in your bank account. You eventually got bored in your shared dorm at campus so you bought an apartment. Maybe it was a little too big for just one person, but you went with it anyway.

Then, you met Tara Carpenter. Obviously you knew what had happened the year prior and all, but you could care less. You guys started dating after her being in NYC for 4 months. Which means that, you had to deal with another killing spree, only this time you were able to protect yourself. Even though with multiple bleeding wounds, you made it out alive. Kirby and you were always close, but because of her job you guys rarely talked.

After that you and Tara got closer and her friends and sister still didn’t know about you two. You understood completely as to why. Her friends were obviously protective over her, and not to say her sister. Kirby was like that too.

A couple months later you were still together and still a secret. Neither of you really cared anymore, but somehow the group still didn’t know.

You were walking towards one of the classrooms in the hallway when a strong grip appeared on your arm and you quickly spun around to see your girlfriend smiling cheekily at you. “ Hi, Y/N “

“Hi Tara. Aren’t you supposed to be in class? “ You asked and raised an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes and slowly shook her head.

“Nope. Last class got dismissed. “ You nodded and started walking again. This time Tara by your side, her hand sneakily found yours and intertwined your fingers.

“ Well, I happen to have one so… “ Trailing off, you looked at her and smirked slightly.

“Ugh, I don't care. You are coming with me. “ As she finished her sentence, she gripped your hand tighter and started running down the hall until she found an empty classroom and pushed you inside.

“ whoa, what are you-” You tried to say, but were immediately shut up by the pair of soft lips on yours. You closed your eyes after a couple seconds and put your hands on Tara’s cheeks, pulling her closer to you. You were soon backed into a desk as the kiss got more and more heated. Your senses were lost and the only thing you could feel was her. Only thing you could taste. Her hands gripped your shirt tightly in her hands on your sides as she pushed her tongue inside your mouth and the battle for dominance was soon started. As soon as she had won, she bent her head down to your neck and started leaving dark hickeys on it.

You groaned and your head fell back, giving her more access. She wanted to kiss you everywhere. So she simply started by your jaw then slowly went lower and lower. When she got to your sweet spot your hands went up into her hair and gripped it.

But the moment was soon ruined by the door slamming open to reveal Chad, Mindy and Anika (let's pretend she is alive). You and Tara jumped apart and they slowly took in your appearances. Messy hair, messy clothes, red lips and the marks on your neck.

“ I fucking knew it! “ Mindy shouted as she started dancing around. Chad huffed and gave each of them 5 bucks.

“Wait, did you bet on us? “ Asked Tara.

“ Oh hell yeah we did! And me and Anika won. Ha! The gaydar never lies. “ Anika chuckles at her girlfriends’ goofiness and puts a hand on her back to calm her excitement.

You just stood there, cheeks red as a tomato, looking at them. When you came back to reality, you spoke up. “ Wait. Are you guys going to tell Sam?! Oh god I am already dead. “ You looked at each of them with fear.

“Well, we weren’t going to, but now that you mention it, I think we should.” Mindy smirked as she looked at her twin and girlfriend.

“Oh come on ! “ Tara shouted in annoyance.

“Unless….maybe, we could have a deal. Hm? “ Mindy walked towards you with crossed arms as she glanced at Tara then back at you.

Chad and Anika looked at each other, confused. “ Of course. Anything. I’ll do anything! “ Mindy laughed at your pleading, but her smile quickly faded as her face turned serious.

“ Each of us gets a ticket to the concert this weekend. “ She raises her eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

“Lady Gaga’s concert? But almost all the tickets are sold for that! “ The others watched the scene happening before them. Tara, of course, didn’t like that Mindy was taking advantage of your money and fear, but she still found it amusing.

Mindy hummed and shrugged her shoulders. “ Well I guess you’ll have to figure something out. “ With that she turned around and went back to Chad and Anika with a smile of victory on her lips. Anika jumped in excitement and kissed her.

You sighed and went over to Tara to bury your face into her neck. She chuckled and patted your head. Chad stood in the doorway and looked around him.

“ God damn it! I’m so single, bitch. “ You all laughed as you took Tara’s hand into yours and started walking out of the classroom.

Well, eventually you did buy 6 five tickets for the Lady Gaga concert-deciding to invite Sam too- . And a couple days later, you were standing in the big crowd of the concert. Dancing, singing and occasionally kissing Tara- (Sam was with the others in-front of you)

You watched as Chad picked up Mindy and cheered in-front of you and Tara. Smiling, you looked down at your girlfriend to see her already looking at you. You bit your bottom lip as your eyes traveled between her beautiful chocolate brown eyes and her delicious, looking red lips. Her eyes doing the same. She smiled at you and you smiled back, and at that moment, you decided that you would be by her side whenever and you knew that she would do the same.

You slowly leaned down and connected your lips. You sighed into the kiss as you took your hands up on her shoulders. The sweet sound of the music slowly fading away as you guys kissed. After you two ran out of oxygen you had to pull away, slightly panting. You placed your forehead onto hers and whispered. “ I Love You “

Tara looked at you and smiled. “ I Love You Too. “ You pulled back and for a minute you admired her in the flashing lights then looked back at the stage and started singing and jumping, Tara joining soon.

Maybe you were young and this wasn’t something that would last for a lifetime. But regardless, you hoped it would. Because you knew that life is easier with her and that she is the reason you get up everyday. She kept you alive.

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A/N: i feel like it's short again. Fuck.

#scream vi #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #scream iv

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dramioneasks · 4 months ago

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HP FESTS: DramioneFanfictionWriters (Part 9)

DFW Tropes Fest 2024:

A Blade in the Earth by still_a_dragon - T, one-shot - Hermione sneaks away from Ron and Harry to meet up with Draco Malfoy mere weeks after being tortured by his Aunt at the Manor. He's been contacting her at night using magic wholly unfamiliar to her, and says he has something she needs to take down Voldemort for good. She doesn't trust him, but will do anything to end this war. When she arrives, Hermione learns more about magic than she bargained for and her fate is turned on its head by a blade in the earth.

What Dreams May Come To Be by Astrangefan - T, one-shot - Draco leaves the wizarding world as part of a deal to avoid Azkaban. Hermione leaves because she is just done with the wizarding world in general. They both end up in the same university, only they don't know each other. As it turns out, here's a lot they don't know.

Spooky Scary Death Eaters Send Shivers Down My Spine by Mykonos19 - E, one-shot - Lord Voldemort had won. The Battle of Hogwarts ended with the life of Harry Potter barely intact. Seven years later, living in NYC, Hermione Granger is approached by Draco Malfoy with information about Voldemort. Draco knows how to kill him

Every Day With You by NurseBoss - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy sustains a concussion from a bludger during a recent quidditch match. When he wakes, he insists that Hermione Granger is his girlfriend. What if Hermione Granger, with some encouraged prompting from her friend Ginny, decides to play along with Draco's alternate perception of their relationship. Then....just what if lines get blurred and feelings develop.

More to Learn by Back_to_Fanfic - T, one-shot - At the age of eleven, only child Hermione Granger was thrilled to learn that she was a witch, and to start attending Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Finally, she had a reason to not feel so alone in the world. She desperately hoped this new school would yield both new learning and new friendships, but unfortunately that was not the case. By her seventh year, she had two friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. When both her friends start dating girls from another house, she finds herself in the middle of a game of Truth or Dare. It turns out that despite being a top student she still has a lot to learn. Set in an AU in which Voldemort didn’t make any Horcruxes, and actually died the night he tried to kill Harry after murdering Lily and James Potter.

Where the End of You Begins by intrin6 - M, one-shot - Long ago, Bertrand Malfoy was sentenced to death by Marie Granger. Casting a curse on him, Malfoy ensures that his family will be the doom of Granger's. Now, many years later, their legacies meet at Hogwawrts. Sworn to end the Granger line, Draco Malfoy must now find a way to kill Hermione Granger. If his treacherous heart doesn't kill him first.

DFW Dramione Valentines 2025:

Pink, It’s My New Obsession by ReadstheRoom - E, WIP - “Muggle humidifiers, they turn water to steam and then sort of push moisture into the air. I used the same technique to vaporize a microdose of Draught of Peace. It’s just enough to put people at ease…” Fascinating. He’s breathing it in. “Isn’t that illegal, dosing patients without telling them ahead of time?” He groans as her thumb presses a particularly painful spot in his wand hand before quickly soothing it away with the cooling magic. “Technically, you signed your approval, it’s in the fine print.” This time he definitely hears smug amusement. “But if you are not enjoying the effects I can certainly turn it off.” “Carry on, oh wellness witch, I feel bloody amazing.” OR Healer Hermione has opened a Wellness Spa to help treat trauma, physical and mental, caused by the wizarding war. Draco is gifted four sessions with an ‘unknown’ Wellness Specialist. What could go wrong?

Use Somebody by Fromagerie (Elfminster) - E, one-shot - It's valentine's day, and Hermione has been so stressed with work she didn't even realise. When Harry and Ginny invite her to come along to their favourite muggle sex club, she takes a chance and decides to try something new. And the mysterious masked man with an excellent jawline seems exactly like the someone she has been looking for...

True North by iwasbotwp - T, one-shot - What helped Draco navigate the war, reminded him to stay strong in prison afterwards, and still guides him today? A compass. And something more.

We're gonna be timeless by Mariana_Monteverde - T, one-shot - Draco walks into Borgin and Burkes one evening and everything changes in his and Hermione's lives...

Meet The Parents by ladydreadful - M, one-shot - "Draco, just knock already." "It's your parent's house, you knock." Hermione gave him a pointed stare. Draco stared back at her with a look that can only be described as pure stubbornness. His arms were crossed, chin tilted slightly upward, and a hint of unease furrowed his brows. “Coward,” she hissed, though it lacked any real anger. Draco sighed loudly, before running his hands through his pale hair and squaring up with the door. “It’s going to be fine,” Hermione reassured him, adjusting the hem of her jumper. Draco muttered something under his breath that sounded like a mixture of “barmy” and “mental” before he raised his fist to the door. He hesitated, not turning to look at her as he asked, “Should we have a code word in case we need to leave?” Hermione laughed but when she saw the serious look on his face, she softened. “Sure. How about Merlin?” Draco nods once, his still arm reanimating and rapping against the door in three solid knocks.

How You've Haunted Me by flags_fiend - T, one-shot - Draco submits to giving evidence at his trial via Veritaserum-laced memory extraction. The resulting revelations are a surprise to everyone.

till death do us part by TeTe91 - G, one-shot - Draco knew she had arrived when the officiant's eyes honed in on a spot down the aisle behind him. The broad smile on the officiant’s face promised a beautiful sight. Although they had opted to elope without any witnesses or guests, they had agreed that the occasion warranted special attire. Dressed in elaborate robes, Draco stood with his back to his approaching bride. A soft beat hung in the air to accompany her entrance. His heart picked up, its beat drumming in his neck. Inside him, the urge to turn around to see his bride warred with the sudden anxiety of their marriage becoming a reality. OR Draco's inner monologue while he exchanges vows with Hermione.

Requiem by CLawliette - M, WIP - When darkness is all you can see, when love and death embrace, when all hope is lost... There is when lovers found. [WARNINGS: CHARACTER DEATH]

a fragment of your life by EastWindmlk - T, one-shot - Draco is saved from a Dementor's Kiss by an old custom, a law he'd forgotten about, a gallows marriage with the last person he ever expected to agree to such a thing: Hermione Granger. Now, he is forced to live with his new wife, which he does begrudgingly. Locked in his room, he contemplates his situation and his actions.

What I’ve Always Wanted: A Valentine's Story in Two Parts by Ceilidhchaos - M, one-shot - Hermione goes to the awards gala on Valentine's Day without her husband, but not without admirers.

Nothing by PearlButtons - E, one-shot - I know, I know, the way that it goes You get what you give, you reap what you sow ... So touch me again I feel my shadow dissolving --- In the aftermath of the Dark Lord's victory over Harry Potter, Draco provides information to the Order. If only they'd fucking listen to him.

Dragon in a Bottle by Leahofthesky - E, WIP - Over twenty years have passed since Draco Malfoy left Hermione Granger at the altar, and now, she's sitting at his dining room table. Unfortunately for her, she’s the feast. Or is it? After transforming Hermione into an Eternal, Draco is forced to confront a past he's spent years running from—and it’s one that’s full of guilt, regret, and unfinished business. As if the weight of their complicated history isn’t enough, keeping the fiery Hermione in his life proves to be much harder than Draco anticipated. Their reunion ignites a whirlwind of emotions, dangerous foes, and dark secrets they both wish had stayed buried. With a mix of romance, dramedy and horror, Draco and Hermione must navigate a twisted new reality where their deepest feelings are tested and the stakes are higher than they ever imagined. Will they come together or be torn apart by the shadows of their past? OR Draco Malfoy, a playboy Eternal with a troubled past, makes the ultimate mistake when he turns his former fiancée into an immortal—and is forced to face a lifetime of ugly emotions, deep regrets, and a growing number of dangerous enemies. As old wounds reopen, he must figure out how to keep Hermione in his life for good—before it’s too late. [WARNINGS: RAPE/NON-CON]

Kinda Like Being in Love by teh_kris_eh - T, one-shot - When Draco is dragged out for a pub night after a long week, he thought he'd end up playing wingman (or babysitter) for his best friend. To his surprise, the night holds much more in store.

Want You To Know Who I Am by CatastrophicallyFaz - G, WIP - Draco Malfoy is ostracised from the Wizarding World, justifiably so. Especially after the war. But, at a Ministry Gala, Hermione Granger, the one girl he has been pining for over the last decade makes a move that he couldn't predict.

Wouldn't It Be Sweet? by TotallyTalia - M, one-shot - After running into Hermione Granger at the Three Broomsticks, Draco Malfoy immediately notices that something isn't quite right with his former classmate. Will he be able to help her finally have her 'sweet escape'?

Quilted In Your Name by Amity0813 - M, WIP - As it turns out, Hermione Granger isn’t the only first year who finds herself out of her depth at a new school with social hierarchies and cliques. Draco Malfoy is just a boy, raised to think a certain type of way about the world… but when he finally gets to school and finds out all those beliefs are lies, he has a hard time grappling with it. Or, two lonely kids both find themselves seeking solace in an abandoned bathroom on the second floor, but what they find instead is a friendship with each other.

Sun To Me by AuroraNyx - G, one-shot - Draco decides that it's time to take a stand and create his own path in life. One where he stands by Hermione's side, instead of running away from her. Now all he has to do is...tell his Mother.

Keep your friends close... by lollie2796 - G, one-shot - When the war ends and it's time to return for their seventh year. The group is so small that Blaise (Pansy) decides they need to break the ice with a game of spin the bottle.

For the Best by greyditto - T, one-shot - Hermione and Draco both demand answers from each other when she shows up in his bedroom on the morning of his wedding to someone else.

All I want is to fly with you, so why don't we rewrite the stars? by MarionAveoneLuther - T, 3 chapters - Because what was there to run from? The war was over. Her Hogwarts studies were completed. The future was waiting neatly ahead. Therapy had been attended, the right words said, the expected steps taken. The dead had been mourned, as they should be. But no one had thought to ask about the living. It didn’t matter, though, because she had left it all behind. She'd packed her hauntings in a suitcase, boarded a plane, and never once looked back. Not until now. Five years was a long time. . . . He stepped in—closer than before. Closer than he should. Close enough that she could smell his cologne—amber, cedar, and something more something inherently him. The scent wrapped around her, drowning out everything else. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You give me too much credit.” Hermione’s brain stuttered. Her chest rose and fell as she looked up at him, still not used to this new height difference or the intoxicating proximity. Then—he extended a hand. “Dance with me.” It wasn’t a question. . . . Or Draco & Hermione meat again after five years apart. Can they rewrite the stars?

Fall For Me by volchitsa - T, one-shot - So won't you fall for me? Won't you fall for me? Through a fractured existence, won't you fall for me?

Yours by The_Renegade - M, WIP - Hermione Granger doesn’t do relationships. She has far too much going on in her life that she needs to focus on - such as, being the best damn sports medi-witch in the field. Working with Quidditch hadn’t always been the plan, until she saw Ginny Weasley nearly not recover from a crash, then she threw her whole heart and soul into the process. Draco Malfoy didn’t expect to be traded to a different team half way through the season. And yet, here he is. With Hermione Granger tending to him as his healer.

Pulled Into The Void by Astrangefan - M, 11 chapters - Draco is a healer. Hermione is a curse breaker. They are best friends and roommates. When Hermione's curse breaking job goes awry, Draco has to pick up the pieces. And one of the last pieces is telling her that he loves her and is in love with her. What will she say?

Growing Old by OrangeCrush282 - T, one-shot - In order to seduce his wife, Draco searches for a love poem he wrote Hermione thirty-five years before.

The World Is Ugly by WellCatsExtreme (ThatDarnCatt) - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger slowly working their way through the first year or two after the Second Wizarding War. Set to The World is Ugly by My Chemical Romance

Love of mine, someday you will die by Saberspooky - E, WIP - Aside from his brief stint on the dark side, Draco Malfoy lived a relatively boring life. He was finishing his last year of specialty training on the Dark Curses and Creatures floor of St. Mungo's. He volunteered at his aunt's orphanage. He occasionally went out for a drink with friends. However, all of that changed when Hermione Granger showed up at St.Mungo's bleeding out from a vampire bite and Draco, the resident vampire healer, was charged with saving her life (kind of).

A Discovery by Nomdeplume16 - G, one-shot - In which Draco Malfoy realizes something is wrong, or perhaps right.

Heart Beats Fast by Chels_Writes_a_Fic - E, WIP - Draco Malfoy is cursed with natural legilimency—a gift of magic that runs in the Malfoy line. He spends each day in agony, trying and failing to ignore the constant frivolous thoughts of his peers and professors until he meets the new girl whose thoughts are blessedly silent. As a freshly-sorted Gryffindor muggleborn, Hermione Granger is firmly on the opposite side of the war, and therefore, firmly off limits, but Draco has always had the tendency to want the things he can’t have.

Head over feet by Miamii - M, one-shot - Love can come fast and crazy. Or it comes slowly, as people change and want to be better.

Bring Me to Life by BasicHumanWrites - M, 3 chapters - Hermione Granger is on an assignment for the Ministry at Azkaban where she finds more than she was expecting--There in a cold and dirty cell below ground, barely hanging on to life, is someone long presumed dead.

(Unloveable) If Only You Could See Me by Forgive_Me_Severus - E, WIP - It was a slow change for Hermione Granger-Weasley. Hopeful girl that she had been before - and after - the Battle of Hogwarts, now she was... sad, pathetic, unloveable. That's what Ron always told her, anyway. Until a couple of wizards fell back into her life and showed her just how wrong he was. [Draco x Hermione x Harry]

you up? by westxnorthwest - E, one-shot - no summary

We'll Be Alright by Back_to_Fanfic - E, one-shot - Back at Hogwarts for their eighth year, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy find themselves inexplicably pulled towards one another. One night, Draco runs into Hermione in the library and learns that she's struggling more than he ever would have thought.

I’m Yours by unhingedhufflepuff - M, one-shot - Magically muzzled by the Wizengamot as punishment for his inaction during her torture at his home, Draco attempts to woo Hermione Granger into making the first move.

Like Oysters and Pearls by Undercover_ballerina - M, one-shot - Draco fucked up. Truly, epically, fucked up. Hermione left him. He needs to prove to her that he has changed.

The World According to Us by NurseBoss - E, one-shot - A hidden office dalliance between Granger and Malfoy has been ongoing for months. It had always been a rushed affair whenever the opportunity presented itself. Neither one of them ever pushed for more, not that they talked about it. Ginny insists Hermione take her brother Charlie as her date to the upcoming mandatory DMLE Employee Annual Gala. She may enter with one man, but exits with another.

I Don't Want to Be Alone Tonight by intrin6 - T, one-shot - Hermione is tired of being couped up with no one but her cat (as great as he is). To stand up against her loneliness, she goes to a club.

The way life goes by emotionalsupporthufflepuff - M, one-shot - After going away on a journey of self discovery, Hermione return to England with a secret to reveal...

Caught Between Shadows by Cronebutcute - M, one-shot - Voldemort is dead. So is Harry Potter. The Ministry lies in ruins, and those who remain in Britain are left to fend for themselves in a world without order, justice, or mercy. The war didn’t end—it simply broke everything beyond repair. Hermione Granger is done fighting for a cause that no longer exists. Survival is the only law now, and she intends to do more than just survive—she will carve out a future on her own terms. That future, however, requires power, wealth, and an alliance with the most unlikely of partners: Draco Malfoy.

This fest is ongoing.

#dramionefanfictionwriters #fests/exchanges/challenges #dramione

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strangerthingsfanworkrecs · 2 days ago

Note

Dr-aculaaa is an asset to our fandom. Providing so much beautiful art, but also fics for canon AND xReader ships. They promote inclusivity in fandom and probably gets more hate and than recognition because of it. They treat fandom like it’s special, and not just something to pass the time.

This week, we're highlighting Dr. Acula for their art and fics! All recs this week will be from their works and posted under the #draculaaa tag

You can see more of their art on their instagram here and their written fics on their Ao3

Dr. Acula answered some questions about their work under the cut!

Why Stranger Things?

I’m a huge Winona fan (and an 80s media enthusiast) so almost a decade ago this show was big deal for me. I was finishing high school when season one came out and had this sudden “Oh… ” sense that I’m sure a lot of people can relate to when a piece of media will stick with them. It’s one of the more consistent things in my life and I’ve met so many people because of it: Halloween watch parties in the dorm when season two premiered, my first summer living in NYC was spent watching season three (and crying over the Stobin bathroom scene), and of course the people I’ve met after finding it hard to maintain adult friendships in a post-pandemic world during season four. I’ve always been involved with some kind of fandom, writing and making art, but Stranger Things was the first one I felt comfortable enough to share and have it be perceived by a larger audience. Over time it sort of grew up into this beast like what happened with D'Artagnan. It’s big and scary, it’ll eat your cat, but with assurance from your friends swinging a nail bat at interdimensional demons for you, one can feel safe

What's your favorite character or ship (platonic or romantic) to create for?

I feel all giggly answering this. Anyone who knows me knows my main squeezes are the Fruity Four! Fun Drac Fact: it was Eddie Munson who gave me the courage to start sharing my creations. Stobin, Steddie, Ronance, each character in these dynamics all have something so real about them that you can see yourself in them. The way the get angry, the way the cry, love, fight, and persist; I love playing with all these Barbies until they all look like Cynthia dolls.

What's your typical writing process like?

Chaos. A playlist is the first step usually. A trusted friend with an open ear and a shoulder to cry on when I get the inspiration is crucial. It all hits me like I’m Wile E. Coyote and there’s acme anvil falling from the sky. A lot of the time it’s a collaboration. Once the vibe is achieved it all just flows out of me in some weird insufferable trance. If I don’t get it done quickly, it won’t happen at all. This process is not recommended for those who want to keep a consistent update schedule, but it really has produced some of the best works I’ve written. It’s all very flowery, I’ve been told I have my own distinguished poetic prose. I have an issue with authority when it comes to following structural rules. What comes out of me is raw and lyrical, it’ll give you that rollercoaster swoop in your stomach and move you to tears, or it’s the most rocks-for-brains sentence you’ve ever seen and wonder “hey man, what the actual heck did you just say?” Towards the end I sometimes send it to a trusted friend to read over while I go hide and face the wall Blair Witch style until she finishes.

What's your typical drawing process like?

Typically for fandom my personal pieces are inspired by wanting a sense of comfort, or having a stupid joke that maybe me and like seven other people would like. It’s all subjective, really. I’ve always been drawing. It’s one of the things where I can just shut off my brain for a while. It’s an escape. An expression outlet. When I want to write but don’t have the energy, I draw. When I want to draw, vis-à-vis. Really, it’s kind of like storyboarding. I’ll draw out the idea and once I have an image, I can bring it to life. An example being Bloodflowers, an Edward Scissorhands inspired AU for Steve Harrington.

Where do you get inspiration for your xReader personas?

A lot, if not all, of my reader inserts are from pieces of myself. Vices and virtues and such. I find that writing these personas helps me work through whatever big feelings I’m feeling, or to satisfy that daydream itch when I’m deep in a new movie/TV/Book. The persona inspiration will range from characters like Susanna Kaysen and Elizabeth Wurtzel, to Mary from Party Girl or Celine from the Before Trilogy. You can also depend on them to display traits of an INFP, and hopefully pick up some of the songs that heavily influenced the writing.

What's been your favorite project so far?

That’s like asking me to pick a favorite child but I’d say the Gutterballs project, written as an ode to the friends I’ve met since writing for Eddie. Eddie and the reader from my Saturday Night/Sunday Morning series (who is now an OC, Sally Gutierrez) have podcast called Gutterballs- think Trixie and Katya but with an old rockstar and a music photojournalist. It’s Valentine’s Day and Eddie is covering up old tattoos that were dedicated to old lovers (inspired by my friends.) In each segment he talks about the person he loved/still loves; each tattoo was a little love letter. After I posted the fic, each one of my friends then wrote a story in reply to their character reacting to Eddie talking about them, not with hate or regret but appreciation for the way they’ve helped him be the person he is now. It wasn’t a requirement to post a reply, but everyone felt so moved to do so. Everyone’s reactions made my heart so full and reminded me why we even share our work. It connected all of us creative souls. I’ll cherish that moment forever like a tattoo.

What's been your hardest project so far?

Currently I’m working on a piece for the Steddie Classical Art Zine! It’s my first time working on a fandom collaboration project this size, there’s a lot of amazing writers and artists involved so I’m definitely feeling a bit of the pressure!

What was your favorite comment or interaction you've received so far?

Most famously, deadboyfriendd commented on my childhood friends to lovers fic Trapped Under Ice that it made her want to eat a jean jacket- and since then we haven’t been able to shut up about projects, music, and just being each others’ little tamagotchi. Anything from @tomtomslongdong made me smile, I saw they were a highlighted reader and for good reason! I can also always count on @jo-harrington and @br0ck-eddie to give me feedback on all my works, silly and mushy alike.

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

Yeah sure! Keep A.I. slop out of fandom spaces, check yourself before you wreck yourself, and be excellent to each other.

#artist intro #draculaaa

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graciegoeskrazy · 9 months ago

Text

we're all just the same, what a shame

matty healy + daughter!reader (ft. mainly ross but a bit of the band)

warnings: fluff, short, should I start rewriting atpoiim with h!r???

a/n: I hated this but now I don't think it's that bad. just short and sweet. (like the concert I didn't get tickets to 😭)

The band was in NYC preparing for the release of a new album, an abundance of press, a Madison Square Garden performance, and new changes to a show that was yet to be finished. Despite your father’s protest that you should stay home and live your normal life, you tagged along. Because it was a very stressful, working time for them, you were 100% prepared to take a step back and let them do their thing.

The knock on your door took your gaze out of your phone and onto the door of your hotel bedroom that connected to the rest of the suite you and your dad shared. “Come in.”

You knew from his posture and they way he slightly hid behind the door that he was up to something. Your head tilted in confusion, prompting him to speak.

“Do you have…fairy lights?”

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Why the fuck would I have fairy lights?”

He gove you a brief look that meant ‘language’ and then paused.. “‘Cause you’re a teenage girl.” He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“No. Whatever do you need fairy lights for?”

“A fort.” His face comically didn't change.

You sighed. “You’ve gone mental.”

—-------

“When I thought I was gonna take a step back and let you work I didn’t think building a fort was on your to-do list.” He didn’t respond, just shrugged while sparing you a glance, then continued draping the fabric.

“Why are the lights off?” You said, walking through the hallway.

“Aesthetic.” He said simply.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever trusted your aesthetic.” You flicked on the tall lamp shade as you finished your sentence.

He looked up at you, bright eyed, and smiled. “Ah, good ideas babe!”

You quicked your head. “What?”

Without another word, he dragged the lamp inch by inch into it’s spot by the fort, then draped the remaining pieces of fabric onto it. “It needed height.” He said smiling at you.

“So why are you doing this exactly.”

He started to speak as he slightly struggled to enter the white sheet at the front.

“I’m gonna make a small one for the exterior, and in the video we’re gonna do a transition and it's gonna be like ‘look, it's bigger on the inside’ and it’s gonna be a metaphor.”

“A metaphor for what?” You asked.

Your father paused. “Something stupid?” He said, looking at you.

“Oh, right, right, of course.”

—-------

At the arena, hiding in the nearly empty dressing room, you were prompted to your feet when you father texted you telling you to come to the green room. You practically groaned upon entry. Adam held the camera and your father stood in front of it awaiting your arrival. He clapped his hands together excitedly and you groaned, preparing to turn away. “Not again.”

“Come onnnnn. I need you in it for the video. For your reaction.”

You rolled your eyes, to which he only allowed it this time because you were helping him with something. The small interior was already filled wall to wall with the band, who all smiled upon your entrance. Ross smiled the biggest, excited to see you, and opened up his arms wide, prompting you to sit with him.

Matty and Adam set the camera up and you switched to Ross’s lap while they did so.

“Hey! You found fairy lights!” You said, pointing up to the ceiling of the fort.

“Yeah, Uncle Ross had some.” Matty said, not taking his eyes off of the project in front of him and Adam.

You looked at Ross. he just shrugged. You knew your father probably just ran to the store to get them.

—-------

Your mind wandered back to the conversation in the room when your father commented on John’s go at jujutsu.

“You'd be mint.” He said.

“He’s too big.” Ross chimed in from behind you.

“No- What do you mean he’s ’too big?’ You have to be big in order to fight. Be able to sit in someone till they can’t breathe.”

“I’d be great at it.” All eyes turned to you as you spoke.

“You’d die in a second tops, baby.”

You shrugged. “Have a little faith.”

—-------

Some of the band left. Now it was just you, your dad, Ross, Adam, and Polly. You left to get a bottle of water and when you came back you found your dad sitting criss-crossed and decided to sit in his lap. It was a routine you’ve had since you were little, and a moment that always made everyone around giggle or smile, especially when you were little. Seeing a four year old toddle in with a snack in one hand and a blankie in another sit on her father’s lap when he least expected it. Matty kept his gaze on his phone as he readjusted his arms to capture you into a none-crushing hug paired with a gentle kidd to the side of your forehead. “Why did you wait till I was 14 to build a fort? I feel like that's a primary school thing, no?”

“How dare you deprive your daughter of a childhood.” Ross said.

Matty finally looked up from his phone when he rolled his eyes. “I give up.”

You and Ross laughed as you both pissed your father off for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

#thx anon!#the 1975 #x daughter!reader #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x daughter!reader #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #ross macdonald x daughter!reader

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succcession · 2 years ago

Text

We're gonna have a fucking baby

Kendall Roy x f!reader (Smut) 3.2k word count

Summary: After spending the day with Kendall and his two kids, Kendall admits he frequently fantasizes about having another baby with you. This conversation quickly leads to an intimate night of him trying to make that happen.

“I mean, is this all my life is y/n? Forty years of fucking up”.

“Ken, your life is forty years of being an amazing older brother, a hardworking son, and a great dad! Maybe with a few hiccups along the way but…who's counting?” you exclaimed as you placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of your emotionless boyfriend. His large eyes staring back at his reflection in the black liquid.

“The press is counting, my family is fucking counting. And you don’t have to lie y/n, I know I am neglectful in all those relationships. Especially with my kids” he roughly remarked.

For weeks you had been pushing the idea of Kendall spending more time with his kids. Whenever he had a day off you would throw out suggestions like, “Hey Ken, the weathers great! Maybe we should bring Sophia and Iverson to Central Park.” Or “NYC has so many museums, we should take Sophia to the ballet, and Iverson to the Hall of Science”. Never intending to make Kendall feel like a deadbeat dad. You knew how he admired his kids. Occasionally he just needed a little push to be there for them.

Due to Kendall’s lackluster attitude you figured today wasn’t the day to ask kendall if he wanted to make plans with his kids. Maybe it was the warm Saturday morning air flooding the usually chilling apartment, or the fact that Kendall was finally not in the office on a weekend but you just had to throw out the idea one more time. “Ken, I know you're having a rough day” you said softly as you reached out to squeeze his open hand. “But maybe not being cooped up in the office or your apartment will make you feel better-”

“Look, I know where you're going with this y/n and I’m not going to another one of your fucking pilates classes.” Kendall directly cutting off your sentence before you could finish. You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's consistent apathy.

“Damn, but I just love seeing you so worked up and sweaty” you retort. “No Ken, I was going to say, why don't we take Sophia and Iverson to the zoo today?” you cheerfully presented. To your surprise Kendalls eyes nearly seemed to light up at the word “zoo” as if something clicked inside of him, almost breaking his depressive state. Kendall responded with a quick “let me call Rava”.

You watched the rows of skyscrapers pass as you and Kendall sat in suffocating silence on the way to Rava’s apartment. Kendall fidgeted in his seat, pulling on his t-shirt, mindlessly switching between apps on his phone before eventually letting out a quiet “you know, you don't have to come if you don't want to y/n, I can pick them up by myself if it makes you more comfortable.” You placed your hand gently on his upper thigh giving a light squeeze as you explained. “Ken, it's really okay. I mean she's the mother of your children! We can't exactly avoid each other forever.” you said, showing a soft smile to assure Kendall of your confidence. Honestly, you and Rava got along fine. Although she was slow to warm up to you, you never took it personally. Who wouldn't be cautious of their drug addict, ex husbands, new girlfriend. Over time her cold demeanor shifted as you two began having small conversations whenever she would pick the kids up. You almost admired Rava in a way. She was beautiful, always looked elegantly put together, successful in her career, and she was an amazing mother. Everything you secretly hoped to one day be for Kendall.

As the car pulled up to Rava’s apartment you mind began to picture how your future might look with Kendall if things continued at the pace they were. Of course, Kendall had joked many times about getting you pregnant and running away together to get married. But you two never had a real discussion about what you saw for your future. You couldn't help but occasionally daydream of you and Kendall standing in an empty room deciding between sage green or soft peach, paint swatches for a nursery. Or rocking your baby to sleep as Kendall softly wrapped his arms around your waist, humming gently in your ear.

Your mind wandered further into your maternal daydream as your day at the zoo went on. Observing how patient and gentle Kendall was Iverson and how lovingly he doted on Sophia, had your heart skipping beats every minute. Making sure to capture hundreds of photos of all the adorable moments. Kendall typically only showed his love in undisclosed ways but with his children it was on full display.

As you and Iverson stared into a tank of swimming otters counting each one that passed, Kendall realized for the first time in weeks he didn’t feel like the world was collapsing in on him. There was something reassuring about watching you point out different frog species with Iverson and hold hands with Sophia, skipping together to each animal. Everytime he heard one of his kids yell “Dad, come look!” served as a reminder that he still had people in his life who cared about him. Who needed him.

Kendalls wandering thoughts were interrupted by a small tug on his sleeve and he looked down to find his daughter sweetly beaming up at him.

“What's up Princess? Are you having a good time?”

“Dad! y/n is so cool and you’re always happier when you're with her!” The young girl exclaimed.

Kendalls entire demeanor softened, and he kneeled down to wrap his arms around Sophia. Hearing those words nearly broke his heart. He was highly aware he wasn’t always at his best when around his kids, but he always tried to fake it for Sophia and Iverson. The fact that his kids could see past the facade made him sick. Just another reminder of the ways he was becoming like his father.

Kendall attempted to hide his shame from Sophia, responding smoothly “Yeah Soph, I guess you’re right about that. Lucky for us, I think y/n is here to stay.” In spite of her fathers hopefully tone, Sophia was hardly a young kid anymore and she could still see the fragment of sadness Kendall felt. She pleaded further “Please dad! y/n is the best! I want her around forever!”. After his divorce Kendall decided remarrying was out of the question for him. The thought of being like his dad; multiple wives with kids he ignored from each, practically gave him nightmares. However, Kendall couldn’t deny that when he met you, his mindset instantly changed. Within only a few months the thought of you having his child definitely crossed his mind more than once. He would catch himself picturing moments like you handing him a pregnancy test with a bright ‘+’ result. Staring up at him with your soft eyes anticipating his reaction. How he would scoop you up in his arms and yell “we're having a baby!” kissing you all over and reminding you how he would take care of you forever. Nonetheless, he always pushed those thoughts aside and never revealed how he really dreamed of you two ending up. The press already had a field day with your age gap, you were really starting to build momentum in your career and the last thing he ever wanted to do was make you feel trapped.

That night you and Kendall sat snuggling on the couch, scrolling through all of the silly photos taken throughout the day. You felt especially safe wrapped in Kendall's arms tonight. Assuming it was just the effects of getting to see Kendalls paternal instincts. He left gentle pecks along your forehead while giggling at every photo of Iverson and Sophia posing with the animals. The effortless time with his kids paired now with your warm body cuddled on top of him reliving the memories was already filling him with a mellow nostalgia.

As you scrolled past a selfie of you kissing Kendall on the cheek you giggled “we would make such cute babies.” Instantly Kendalls ears perked up seeing as he was the one usually joking about making babies.

“Are you kidding? Our kids would be like the next super model, techno DJ, fucking ultra geniuses!”

You expected Kendall to have to have such a teasing reaction but honestly you were being serious.

“Fuck yeah they would!” you joked back, pressing a peck to your boyfriend's lips. Kendall quickly deepened the kiss before pulling back to look at you.

“Did I ever tell you how sexy I think you would look pregnant?” Kendall whispered. “What? Omg Kendall no! You have never told me that” you laughed.

“Come on. What do you think… I think about after I cum in you?” he said with a large grin.

“Ken I- are you serious? Do you really think about you?”

Despite the giggle you let out as you asked, you knew Kendall caught on to the trace of hopefulness behind your question.

“Uh of course, I think about how fucking beautiful my girlfriend would be with my child, yeah.” Kendall assured.

Your heart was nearly pounding out of your chest. Despite being unsure if Kendall was being honest or simply pulling your heartstrings hearing him say those words was making you melt deeper into his arms.

“Mm really? How often?” you teased, hoping to gather more confirmation that Kendall wasn’t just joking.

“Um okay, you want me to be honest?” he asked.

“One hundred percent.” you said.

“Like. Everyday.”

Stunned by his answer, your mouth fell open and stumbled to come up with a response.

“Seeing you with Sophia and Iverson, waking up to you every morning, fuck y/n, you have no idea how bad I want to come home to you and our family.” Kendall continued.

“Our family?” you questioned.

You could sense Kendalls discomfort with your reaction. You hadn’t intended to say that thought aloud but you were speechless. It felt as if the delusional world in your head and reality were swapping places.

Kendalls large eyes were staring into your eyes, anxiety flooding his body, praying you say something else.

“Ken I-” you began, before being interrupted by a distressing Kendall.

“Look y/n its just a thought, I mean I’m definitely not trying to push for something you’re not ready for, like I know your young and-”

Crashing your lips into Kendalls was the only way you knew to shut him up from his fearful rambling.

“But…I want you, Kendall.” you said.

Your hands holding his face to look directly into his dark eyes. “I want all of you. All of your bad habits. All of your ex-wife, Roy family drama baggage. And especially…to have your babies.” you drew out slowly, letting a devilish smile creep onto your face.

That was all the reassurance Kendall needed before he was kissing you deeply , moving to positioning himself in between your thighs, hovering above you.

“Is that really what you want y/n? You want me to make you mine?” His previously trembling voice was now confident and nearly patronizing.

“Mhm baby, only yours” you replied sweetly while attempting to grind your hips up to Kendalls. That slight bit of friction was met with a repressed grunt from Kendall, his hands moving to tightly grip your hips, halting any movement. You could tell Kendall was already craving you. You could feel his dick growing harder as it pressed firmly against your clothed center. The truth was Kendall was hard since the conversation had begun. Even when you had simply joked earlier about making cute babies Kendall couldn’t help the blood that instantly rushed to his cock, causing it to throb against his sweats.

Kendall moved slowly to remove the soft sweater you were wearing, gently helping you to pull out each arm before lifting it over your head. His lips softly connected to your neck. Leaving light pecks, stopping occasionally to gently suck on the skin and admire the small blemishes he was leaving behind. His large hands softly massaging your breasts before his tongue swiftly moved to draw light circles around your nipples. Taking the small bud between his lips and sucking tenderly, making sure to give each nipple equal attention. Your body pushed your chest forward desperately giving in to his delicate touch. His ability to instantly turn you into a moaning mess never failed.

You squirmed beneath him searching for something to grind against, desperate to stimulate the area he was ignoring.

“This is what you’ve been waiting for isn’t it? For me to fuck you and make you mine? Already so eager for my fucking cum in you. My pretty girl” Kendall taunted softy. Watching you gasp as your back arched into him.

“Please Ken” you pleaded.

His fingers trace slowly down your body, finally making contact with your touch deprived center. Using two fingers to rub soft circles on your clit and slide them through your slick folds pressing firmly against your slit. His fingers were instantly covered in your wetness before he even dipped them into your pussy.

Kendall stared into your eyes as he brought the first finger he used to spread your pussy to his lips. Sliding the digit slowly into his mouth, “Fuck! You taste so good”. Bringing his second finger to your mouth with a commanding “suck”. You gladly accepted and softly sucked on the flesh tasting yourself before Kendall removed the finger with a loud popping sound.

He quickly moved from between your thighs to kneeling at the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms firmly around your thighs and pulling your dripping pussy level to his mouth. You cried out as his lips connected directly to your exposed clit. Kendall hummed into your pussy as he tongued the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hands grasped desperately searching for something to hold onto as you felt your orgasm building in your stomach. Kendall removed his firm grasp from around your hips and found your hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “Fuck Ken! You’re gonna- make me cum! Please- please don't stop!” You cried out, squeezing his hands harder feeling your eyes close shut. On nights when Kendall was feeling especially dominating, now is when he would completely pull away. Always trying to see how many times he could bring you to the edge before he finally gave you permission to cum. However, tonight was different. Kendall was on a mission to prove just how good he could make you feel, how bad he wanted to give you everything, that he would truly take care of you. His cock was leaking with precum appreciating every sound that left your body as he continued working your pussy. Rapidly licking at your slit and sucking on your clit until finally the knot building in your stomach released. You couldn't stop the dramatic stream of moans that left your body.

“Oh my God Ken!”

“Good girl” Kendall hummed as you attempted to catch your breath feeling your sensitive pussy throbbing inside.

You yelped, as you felt Kendalls mouth return to your overstimulated clit leaving light kisses while he worked to remove his sweatpants and boxers.

Kendall gently lifted you in both arms and softly laid you back down in the center of the bed. Taking his time to kiss you deeply as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. His chest heaving against yours as he lowered his waist. His dick finally making contact where you had been craving it most, smoothly grinding his tip in between your folds.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck, his dark voice whispering lowly into your ear “You’re my fucking girl.”

“I’m all yours Ken.”

“And this.” Kendall moved his hands to lightly slap his dripping head against your clit, “is my fucking pussy.” His aggressive words muttered with affection and tenderness.

“It’s your pussy Kendall. Forever”

Gradually Kendall began pushing his tip into your soaking entrance, taking his time to guide his cock deeper. Halting his movements frequently to feel you stretch around him.

“Fuck! I love you.” He grunted when his cock finally bottomed out. Dropping all his weight onto your hips, rocking deeply into you. His body was pressed so tightly against yours making you feel especially small and protected. His pelvic bone brushing against your clit with every thrust as he smoothly gained aggression.

Breathy mumbles of “I love you too Kendall, I love you so much” left your lips. His powerful thrust sending electricity straight from your brain to your pussy and through every inch of your body. The sound of your wet pussy dripping around Kendalls cock, his warm breath brushing your neck as he moaned deeply instinctively made you wrap your legs tightly around his hips. Although Kendall had intended to be soft with you tonight he couldn't stop himself from pounding into you ruthlessly. He could feel your pussy tightening around his cock with each thrust signaling you were close to cumming once again.

“Fuck baby! Why are you so fucking wet for me huh? Does it turn you on knowing I’m gonna cum in that fucking pussy? My pretty girl, gonna have my baby?”

He wasn’t expecting a real answer, only seeking to push you closer to cumming on his cock. He was using everything in him not to cum before you and you could feel his smooth pace become more erratic as he snapped his hips harshly against yours.

Letting go of his tight grasp around your body to balance with his forearms on either side of your head. Holding your face with his hands, pressing his forehead lightly atop yours.

“You want my fucking cum?” He questioned, doing his best to maintain a firm tone as he held back his orgasm.

“Yes Ken! I want your cum, baby! Please!” you cried out.

“Tell me where you want it. Tell me where you want me to cum baby”. He was fucking into you at a brutual pace watching as tears began forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck! In my pussy Ken, please cum inside me!” you pleaded as his words drew you to your second orgasm. That was all Kendall needed to hear before he was releasing deep inside you with a powerful thrust. It felt as if you could feel his cum hitting your cervix as he maintained his rough pace, fucking his cum deeper into you. Kendall could feel his orgasm rushing through his entire body, his cock throbbing inside of you, twitching, as he felt your nails drag down his back and your pussy squeezing around him. Milking every ounce of pleasure.

Kendall slowly pulled out you with a deep sigh. The loss of contact, already causing you to feel empty. You were yearning for him to reach out his arms again and pull you into a deep hug. Kendall traced his fingers lightly over your stomach, remaining silent as he studied every inch of your body before dropping to lay down on his back next to you. “Is he already regretting this?” You thought to yourself as Kendall laid silently staring up at the ceiling. You could feel you heart slowly sinking, letting out a soft sigh as you sat up and began shuffling off the bed. Your movements, quickly interrupted by Kendall reaching to pull your body into his lap. Straddling him, his toned arms pulled you into him tightly. Your chests rose and fell in sync as you both breathe in deeply. You feel Kendalls chests begin to vibrate beneath you and he lets out a loud chuckle, brightly exclaiming “We’re gonna have a fucking baby!”

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