#some of these are a little bit a stretch but I needed to keep it concise okay and the point still stands

[witchywithwhiskey]

only man allowed

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're feeling particularly needy one night, but when you text your situationship to come over, he reminds you that he won't wear a condom, which is a problem since it's a risky time of the month for you. but you tell him to come over anyway.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), consensual non-consent and consensual sexual coercion, sexual roleplay, 'just the tip' trope, breeding kink, bdsm elements, some biting and marking, some dacryphilia, some pain play, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, multiple orgasms, aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 8.5k

a/n: listen, i definitely wrote this at a certain time of the month and i'm not going to apologize for it!!! what i will apologize for is the fact that this ended up being way longer than i expected!! i wanted these to be short little fics, but apparently toxic bucky won't let me keep things short 🤭 anyway, this was fun to write and i hope y'all enjoy it!! ♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

You missing me, baby?

You could perfectly imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ stupidly handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye as he asked you that question in response to the picture you’d sent. It was a hastily taken photo of your body clad only in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, your fingers pulling up the hem to show a pair of panties—the ones that had made him groan like he was being tortured when he’d first seen them. 

The truth was, you were missing him. You were horny as fuck and you didn’t care if he knew it—which, you were certain he did, because you only ever sent him lewd photos of yourself when you wanted him—but would it kill Bucky to show a little bit of reciprocity, instead of sending you that teasing response?

It didn’t matter that his playfully cocky words only drove your need higher, your body warming as heat flooded between your thighs. You were missing Bucky’s brand of arrogance, and it was all you could think about, the deep rasp of his voice in your ear while he pounded into you, the dirty and depraved things he’d say as his cock slid into your pussy, stretching you out just the way you needed.

You knew, without even touching yourself, that neither your fingers nor your toys would be enough for you that evening. You needed Bucky. Not John Walker, not any of the other guys on your roster—only Bucky Barnes could satisfy the need burning through your body.

So you rolled onto your knees and lowered your upper body to your bed, arching your ass high in the air. You positioned your phone and took a photo of your curved ass, barely clad in your panties, with the TV on your dresser also in frame. You took photos until you got one that you liked well enough and sent it to Bucky.

I’m bored, come chill.

Your text deliberately didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s question—and you weren’t asking him to come over, you were demanding it. You refused to beg a guy like Bucky Barnes, who refused to be exclusive with you, to come over and fuck you. 

But you knew the simple request would drag him away from whatever he was doing on that Saturday evening and get him to your apartment.

So you were surprised when he texted back and didn’t immediately say he was on his way.

You sure? If we end up fucking, I’m not wearing a condom.

The second you finished reading Bucky’s text, you shoved your face into one of your pillows and let out a frustrated groan. Of course Bucky hadn’t forgotten you were in the process of switching to a new birth control and you’d told him that if he was going to fuck you, he’d have to wear a condom.

He’d taken it better than you expected—especially for a guy who claimed sex with you “didn’t feel as good” when he wore a condom. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum or tried to talk you into fucking bare while it was unsafe. He’d seemed happy enough with handjobs and blowjobs, and had always reciprocated by getting you off with his fingers or mouth.

But you could tell from his text that he was reaching his limit and, truthfully, so were you. 

You missed the feeling of Bucky’s bare cock sliding into you, the heat of his stiff length and the drag of his veins against your sensitive inner walls. You were desperate to feel his cum flooding your cunt, filling you up with his seed while his balls twitched against your ass or clit, and he groaned low and deep in your ear. 

Bucky was the only man on your roster allowed to fuck you bare, and it was entirely contingent on him swearing on his mother’s grave that you were the only girl he fucked without a condom. As far as you knew, Bucky had kept his promise—which you knew because you made him get tested at the local clinic at least once a month. 

Still, you were only four weeks in to the 4-6 week period where your doctor had told you to use secondary methods of birth control while you were switching prescriptions. And you were so horny that you were probably ovulating—but you wanted Bucky so bad you could barely think. 

In fact, the thought of letting Bucky cum inside you when it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and was extra not safe because you were switching your birth control, turned you on so much, your whole body shivered with need. Something about the idea, how risky it was, how it might mean Bucky would knock you up, was too good to be ignored. 

You were so horny, you were seconds away from shoving a pillow between your thighs simply so you’d have something to hump against. That probably should’ve been a sign that you weren’t thinking clearly, but instead, it had you making up your mind.

You decided having Bucky over—having him fuck you raw—was worth the risk. In a brief moment of clarity, you reasoned with yourself that there was always the morning after pill. That was good enough for you.

So you texted him back.

I’m sure.

Bucky showed up to your apartment so soon after you texted him that you were sure that he either broke a number of traffic laws driving over from wherever he’d been, or he’d already been on his way. You loved both ideas, and didn’t want him to give you another reason, so you opted not to ask.

But for how fast he’d gotten to your place, he seemed content to take his time getting to the main event. When you opened the door, you’d been expecting (or, rather, hoping) he’d pounce on you. Instead, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a brief, chaste kiss, asking how your week was and how you’d been since he last saw you.

Then, as you entertained his desire for small talk, Bucky made himself comfortable, stretching out on your bed after kicking off his shoes and beckoning you to curl up with him. You did so, a little warily, and even put on a show you’d seen a million times since you figured Bucky would distract you from it soon enough. 

But he didn’t. 

You lasted all of five minutes before you were lifting your head from Bucky’s chest to look at him, surprised to find the guy you’d texted to come over and fuck you was seemingly engrossed in your show. You whined his name in a pitiful voice, “Bucky.” 

The arrogant smirk you’d pictured when he’d texted you earlier spread across his face and he squeezed you tighter in his hard, muscled arms. 

“Shhh, baby, watch your show,” he rumbled, rolling you onto your back so he was curled around your side, throwing a leg over yours and burying his scruffy face in your neck. “I’m just here to chill, right?” There was a teasing note in his voice that had you huffing out a frustrated sound.

“Bucky…” you grumbled, even as you shifted your head on your pillows to give him easier access to your neck. He rewarded you by kissing your soft skin, sending a tendril of heat curling down your spine and settling heavily between your thighs. “You know this isn’t what I meant when I told you to come over.” 

Bucky lifted himself up onto his forearm, hovering above you so he could stare down into your eyes. His arrogant smirk had slipped off his face, leaving a serious expression as he took in the pinched, frustrated look on yours. He seemed to come to some kind of decision as he stared at you.

“It’s not a safe time for you, right, baby?” he asked, each word said slowly, intentionally, another meaning laced within. “You don’t want me to tell you that I’m horny as fuck and the only thing I want is to bury my bare cock in you and cum in your unprotected pussy—you don’t want me to try to talk you into it, to coerce you, right, baby?”

At his filthy words, your heart thundered in your chest and your pulse thrummed between your thighs, and for a brief, blistering moment, you considered throwing a whole entire hissy fit because that’s not what you wanted. You wanted the opposite of what Bucky was saying—and then the deeper meaning in his words hit you. 

Bucky wasn’t really asking if you wanted him to be nice and respectful of the boundaries you’d set, even though you’d already essentially given him permission to ignore them. He was asking if you wanted to play along with the idea that you were reluctant to let him fuck you without a condom while you were at risk of getting knocked up.

“That’s not what you want, is it, baby?” Bucky rumbled, his gaze holding yours as he nodded his head slowly, the gesture so at odds with his words, it could only mean he was asking you the opposite of what he said.

You’d been eager for Bucky to fuck you—you were so horny, it was the only thing you could think about—but the opportunity of playing this game with him was too enticing to pass up. Pretending to be reluctant, pretending to slowly give in to Bucky’s whims when it was what you both really wanted, would only make the sex that much hotter. 

An excited smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you saw Bucky’s gaze drop to your lips, his own face flickering with elation as he took in your reaction. You waited until his eyes returned to yours before you answered him.

“Noooo, that’s definitely not what I want, daddy,” you whimpered huskily, the barest hint of sarcasm in your tone as you struggled to stop from smirking. Your head was nodding just as Bucky’s had, and he was the first to break, an eager grin spreading across his face. 

He ducked down and brushed another frustratingly brief kiss to your lips. “You got it, baby, no fucking tonight—just chilling,” he murmured, a teasing tone in his voice that had your body tingling with anticipation.

You were less surprised that time when Bucky snuggled back down on top of you, his mouth going back to your neck where he was working on sucking a hickey into the side of your throat.

Since you knew the game you were playing, it was a little easier to settle in and watch your show, all the while trying to forget the way your pussy was pulsing with need. Still, you wouldn’t have said it was easy to ignore the steady twitching of Bucky’s cock against your thigh as he hardened in his sweatpants.

It only got more difficult to keep your attention on your show when Bucky’s hand slid under your shirt, his fingers trailing idly over your stomach until he eventually reached your tits. He began kneading your soft flesh lazily, his fingers plucking teasingly at your nipples, while his mouth sucked on your neck. 

Despite how obvious it was that Bucky was taking his time, it wasn’t long before you were a wet, whimpering mess beneath him.

“Bucky, w-we shouldn’t fool around,” you murmured breathily, mouth tripping over the words as you voiced the exact opposite of what you wanted. It was like your lips didn’t want to play the game you’d started, but you were rewarded for their effort by his frustrated growl, which had you throbbing between your thighs.

“It’s fine, baby, we’re not doing anything we shouldn’t…” he rumbled against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 

The word “yet” hung unspoken in what little space there was between your bodies, and the promise of it had you warming even more, pressing your thighs together against the ache pulsing in your core. “Bucky,” you whimpered his name, your hips twisting toward him like they had a mind of their own.

“Are ya getting wet, baby?” he asked teasingly in your ear, his fingers tripping down your body until they skimmed along the hem of your panties. All you could do was whine in response and Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you’re dripping for me.”

Your chest was already heaving with heavier breaths just from the way Bucky was teasing his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, taking his sweet time going any lower to where you really needed him. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, and your intention had been to shove his hand deeper into your panties so he’d finally touch your pussy, but instead he stopped.

“Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not gonna fuck you, no matter how wet your pretty little pussy is,” Bucky murmured in your ear, brushing a kiss to your cheek. 

Though his words might’ve sounded reassuring, his tone was a deliciously teasing rumble and you could feel his smirk against your cheek. Your body trembled, your thighs parting for Bucky of their own accord, which had him humming a pleased sound. 

“Good girl, just let me feel you.”

Bucky’s fingers finally dipped into your panties and slid down to your pussy, a breathy little moan bursting from your lips. The feel of his warm, skilled fingers slipping through your soaking wet folds, bumping against your clit before swirling around your aching, clenching hole, was almost too much. 

You had to bite your lip against the urge to beg Bucky to fuck you already, not wanting to ruin the game that was making everything hotter. But he seemed to lose himself for a moment, burying his face in your neck and groaning while his fingers slipped between your swollen and soppy lower lips.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re drenched for me,” Bucky growled, his voice low and no longer teasing. His fingers were dipping shallowly into your hole and spreading your wetness around, making a mess of your pussy. “You feel so fucking ripe, I gotta feel it—gotta feel you against my cock.”

Bucky was already pushing your panties down your thighs, rising above you and tearing his shirt off over his head before tugging your own shirt from your body. 

At the same time, you were kicking your panties from around your ankles and spreading your legs, sitting up shove at the waistband of Bucky’s sweatpants. When his cock bounced free, you reached for his perfect length, saliva already pooling in your mouth as you gave his girth a reverent stroke.

But then Bucky was urging you back down, guiding your shoulders to the bed and covering your body with his own. You arched up into his warmth while he settled between your thighs, your fingers clinging to his sides.

His darkened eyes were fixed on the juncture of your legs, his fingers going back to playing through your wetness and spreading it around to make a mess of your pussy. Occasionally, he’d bump against your clit, which made your body jolt every time he brushed the needy bundle of nerves. 

Bucky felt so good, and you were so close to getting what you really wanted—his cock inside you—but you forced yourself to remember the game you were playing.

You grabbed Bucky’s face in both hands, tipping it up so you could catch his eye. There was an almost dazed look on his face, but he blinked and focused back on you.

“It isn’t a safe time of the month,” you said, as sternly as you could manage. But your breaths were coming too quickly for there to be much steel in your voice. Bucky’s thumb brushed over your clit purposefully and your hips bore down on his hand, your body begging for more as you whined, “You can’t fuck me bare, Bucky.” 

“I won’t, baby,” Bucky purred, wrapping the fingers that were sticky with your desire around the hard length of his cock. He chuckled when you whimpered at the loss of his touch, leaning down over you and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just let me rub against you—you’re so wet, it’ll feel so good. I won’t push inside your drippy little pussy, baby, I promise.”

You knew he was lying, and you knew Bucky knew you knew he was lying. For some reason, that made everything so much hotter. So did playing the reluctant participant, which was why you bit your lip with fake nervousness as you stared up at Bucky, your panting breaths adding even more uncertainty to your voice when you spoke.

“Oh-okay, daddy, you can rub against me—but no more.” 

The words were barely out of your mouth before Bucky was sliding his thick, hard cock between your pussy lips, making you moan and spread your legs wider, raising your knees toward your chest to give him all the access he needed. 

Bucky let out a groan and dropped down to cover you with his body, his arms digging beneath your back to hold you pinned tightly against his chest. Your sensitive nipples rubbed against him, teasing you relentlessly.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Bucky rumbled, rocking his hips so his cock dragged between your swollen, dripping folds, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body. “So wet… You’re making a fucking mess on my cock, baby.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered in Bucky’s ear, your body shuddering under the onslaught of blistering pleasure and aching emptiness in your core. 

You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, hands digging into his soft brown hair and holding onto him while his hips kept rocking into the cradle of your body, his cock grinding against your clit until you were gushing with wetness all over his stiff length.

“Doesn’t it feel good, baby?” Bucky murmured in your ear, his voice sweetly entreating, like he was trying to convince you of something, though you were already very well aware that his hard shaft grinding into your dripping wet pussy felt better than it had any right. “You’re creaming all over daddy’s cock, baby—tell me how good it feels.”

“Nngh, so goooood,” you keened, hooking your ankles around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to get better leverage to grind against his hard length. You were caught between wanting more and wanting to keep grinding against him. “Your cock feels sooo good, daddy, so big and hard against my drippy pussy.”

“Fuck, ‘m so hard for you,” Bucky groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rutted into your soft, drenched folds with rough, punishing thrusts. “My dick’s throbbing for your cunt, baby, can you feel it?”

He pressed his shaft deep into your slit, the flared head of his cock bullying your clit, and you could feel it. You could feel the pulse in his hard length, joining the rhythm in your center. 

Your body reacted on instinct, your inner walls clenching hard around nothing while you whined his name, “Buckyyy.”

“I can feel you, baby,” Bucky rumbled, the teasing tone back in his voice. “I can feel your cunt mouthing at my cock.” 

Bucky’s words sounded so deliciously depraved that you wanted to turn your head and kiss him, to taste his debauchery straight from his tongue. You knew he had a filthy mouth, but his dirty talk was even hotter because of the game you were playing—and he just kept talking. 

“Feels like ya want me to fuck you, baby,” he cooed, lifting his head to speak directly in your ear. “Does your pretty little cunt wanna get fucked?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to scream, ‘Yes!’ You wanted to get fucked so bad. You practically desperate for Bucky to push inside you and impale you on his cock, to pump into your pussy bare and cum inside you. You managed to bite it back at the last second for the sake of the role you were playing, but you couldn’t get any other words out.

When you were quiet, save for your panting breaths while Bucky’s hips kept up their torturous rocking, he lifted himself, bracing on his forearms so he could hover above you and see your face. He raised an eyebrow in question, his body slowing its movement as his gaze raked over your face, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his blue eyes.

It was clear he was questioning whether you still wanted to play the game you’d both started, and the fact that he was taking the time to check in with you had your heart squeezing uncomfortably in your chest. 

It was an annoying reminder that Bucky wasn’t the kind of man to be selfish and self-absorbed in bed. Even if he was only your situationship, he made sure you were enjoying everything he was doing. 

And you wanted him to know you were enjoying yourself very much—and that you still wanted to play the role you’d been given.

“I want you so bad, Bucky.” The words tumbled from your lips as you gave in to the urge to assuage Bucky’s concern. “I want you so bad, but we shouldn’t,” you whined, pouting up at him as you slipped back into the game. 

The furrow of concern smoothed itself from Bucky’s brow and he smirked before ducking down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. 

His hips began rocking into you again, and he swallowed your responding moan greedily. He groaned himself when you used your ankles hooked around his thighs to grind back against him, your soft, wet pussy sliding against the rough ridge of his cock and making a mess of both of you.

“What if I…what if I just push the tip in?” Bucky rasped, pulling away and catching your eye, a smirk fluttered at the edges of his mouth, like he was trying to hold it back but was failing. “Just the tip—just let me feel you. Please, baby, I wanna feel you so fucking bad.” 

Bucky bowed his head, pressing sweet kisses to your collarbones, a barely restrained chuckle rumbling his chest. It seemed he’d lost the battle with being able to keep a straight face and you couldn’t blame him, your mouth was spread in a mischievous grin while your nails raked through his short brown hair.

“It’s not safe,” you reminded him, but there was an edge of glee in your tone. 

You couldn’t hide the fact that you were having fun with Bucky, playing out the little game he’d started. You were so close to getting what you wanted, that it only made it more difficult to pretend you didn’t want it. 

So when you murmured, “If you cum inside me, Bucky…” your voice was breathless with desire, and you had to cut yourself off to bite back the moan that wanted to be set free. 

Bucky smirked against your neck, his teeth nipping playfully at the mark he’d left on your throat before he responded. “It’s just the tip, baby, promise—I won’t cum inside you.”

Had it always been so easy for you to hear when Bucky was lying, or had he given up on the pretense of the game so much that it was even more obvious? 

The question flitted across your mind but didn’t stay long. You were too busy gasping a quick, “Ok,” your hips tilting, trying to catch the tip of Bucky’s cock in your hole on one of his grinding thrusts. However, it wasn’t until he pulled his hips back that the head of his hard length notched at your tight, clenching pussy.

Both of you held your breath when Bucky pushed inside. He stopped when just the tip was nestled inside the entrance of your warm, wet cunt. 

“Fuuuck,” Bucky groaned, pressing his face into the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over the hollow of your throat and his scruff rasping against your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking warm, baby,” he rumbled into your neck, the sensation of his mouth against your throat making you shiver all over. “Gotta do it again.”

His muttered words were your only warning before his hips reared back, the broad tip of his cock pulling free from your grasping hole. A tortured whimper slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, and Bucky chuckled as he slid back inside you, your pitiful sound dissolving into a moan when the head of his cock popped into your cunt.

“Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Bucky crooned in your ear, doing it again, slower that time, making you feel every tiny bit of his tip pushing into your weeping hole. “My cock sliding into your drippy little cunt—you’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Bucky, so wet for you,” you echoed, unable to do more when all your focus was on not impaling yourself on Bucky’s cock. Your body squirmed beneath his larger form, one of Bucky’s big hands pressing down on your hip like he knew you were barely holding back from pushing yourself down on his cock.

“It would be so easy for me to slide all the way inside, don’t ya think, baby?” Bucky purred in a teasing tone, his hips rocking forward until he’d pushed another inch deeper before pulling back so only the tip was inside you again.

Just that little tease had you moaning mindlessly beneath Bucky, tears of desire and frustration springing to your eyes. 

Your arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s shoulders and your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs, trying to pull him in deeper. You needed more, to hell with the game you’d been playing. You needed him inside you already. 

“Bucky, please,” you begged on a sob, pressing your face into his cheek.

“I can feel your cunt gripping me, baby, sucking on me—she wants me to push deeper,” Bucky rumbled in your ear, a gruffness to his voice that told you he was reaching the limit of his patience with the game as well. 

In that moment, you’d have done anything to get Bucky to fuck you properly, but before you could speak, he went on. 

“Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his voice rough as crushed rock, his own breaths hot and heavy against your skin. “Want my cock buried deep inside you, filling you up and fucking you hard?”

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you gasped, your hands diving into his hair and pulling his head up so you could look him in the eye. You had to blink the tears from your eyes to do it, but you didn’t want there to be any confusion about what you wanted. “Fuck me, daddy, please!”

A slow, depraved grin spread across Bucky’s face as his eyes roved over your tear-stained cheeks. You felt the tip of his cock twitch inside you, and your body gave an answering clench, like it was begging him to slide inside. But Bucky seemed happy to let his eyes wander over your face, relishing the sight of you crying and begging him to fuck you. 

It felt like a small eternity before his gaze met yours again and he seemed ready to give you what you wanted. 

“But don’t cum inside you, right, baby?” Bucky asked, a devious tone in his voice. His hips pulled back and thrust forward slowly, pushing his big cock inside you at a torturous pace. Bucky’s grin was teasing as he went on, murmuring, “Wouldn’t want daddy knocking you up, right, baby?” 

At Bucky’s words, something inside you snapped. Your mind went blank and your body moved on its own, your legs hiking up Bucky’s sides to wrap tightly around his lower back. Your heels dug into his firm ass and you whined loudly until he let you pull him deeper inside you.

Bucky’s cock impaled you with one thrust, a pleasured grunt slipping from his mouth, half-muffled against your neck. He filled you up all the way to the root of his thick cock and you moaned, long and loud in his ear. 

You finally got what you wanted. Finally, you were full of his cock.

Bucky was buried so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your ass—his big, heavy balls, full of the seed you desperately wanted him to pump inside you. The desire left you dizzy and dazed, your body thrumming with a need to be filled, to be knocked up, to be bred by your situationship.

“Breed me, Bucky,” you whispered breathlessly in his ear. 

He stilled for a very brief second, but then he was groaning obscenely, sucking hard on the hickey he’d already left. Whether it was a reward or a punishment, you didn’t know—nor did you care.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his legs shifting on your bed and repositioning himself to fight against the stranglehold you had on his body. 

He pushed up onto his forearms so he could hover above you, his eyes raking over your face as he rolled his hips to fuck you in hard, shallow thrusts that had your lips parting, punched-out whines slipping from your mouth. 

You were so consumed in basking in your pleasure that it took you a moment to realize Bucky had gone quiet—quieter than he normally was when he was fucking you. It took another moment for you to blink your vision back into focus and when you did, you sucked in a sharp breath at the look of pure, depraved desire on Bucky’s face. 

“Do you have something you want to tell me, baby?” he asked dryly, lifting an eyebrow in question. Before you could answer, he ducked down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, the heat of his tongue flicking into your mouth making you moan. “Does my girl have a breeding kink she failed to tell me about?” he asked in a teasing tone, plunging his cock deep into your pussy and grinding hard against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Not your girl,” you managed to gasp, even through the pleasure. 

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, but it cut off abruptly. It seemed your situationship didn’t like being reminded that he wasn’t the only one who fucked you. Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, biting it a little harshly, making your pussy clench around his cock as you whined through the brief sting.  

“Does John fucking Walker know about your breeding kink?” Bucky seethed, his voice suddenly furious. His anger was reflected in the way he picked up the pace of his hips, fucking you in rough, hard thrusts that had you crying out and clinging to his shoulders, your nails sinking deep into his golden skin. “Do you let John fucking Walker fuck you raw—fucking tell me, baby.”

“No,” you cried, tears of pleasure slipping from your eyes and trailing down your temples into your hair. Bucky’s lips found the salty tears and he kissed them from your skin, making your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. “You’re the only one allowed to fuck me bare, Bucky, you know that.” 

“That’s fucking right,” he growled, punctuating each of his words with brutal thrusts. “I’m the only man who fucks this pussy raw,” he went on in a gruff, furious voice, raising up onto his arms so he could look you in the eye. “I’m the only man who cums inside this cunt, who fills you up until you’re leaking my seed all down your pretty thighs—I’m the only man who breeds you, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes—yes, Bucky, only you,” you cried, squirming beneath him, using your ankles hooked around his thighs to meet Bucky’s thrusts. It didn’t even occur to you to fight him on his possessive questions—he was right. He was the only one allowed to do all those things. “Only you, only you—please, I need you to breed me Bucky!”

You were getting close, but before you could tumble over the edge of your release, Bucky sat up, breaking the hold of your arms as he pushed up onto his knees. You let out a frustrated wail, but stopped short at the expression on Bucky’s face.

The look in his eye was wild, nearly feral. His hands were rough and possessive when he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them up toward your chest until you were folded in half. His cock was still inside you, but not nearly as deep as you wanted it in the position Bucky was in. 

Your hips squirmed, a whine working its way up your throat before spilling free.

Bucky leaned back down on top of you, pinning your legs to your chest and your body to the bed as his cock slid deeper until you were so full of him, you swore you could feel him in womb—even though you knew that was impossible. 

He stayed like that, buried inside you, his cock stretching out your tight cunt while he rocked his hips, grinding deeper into you. All the while, he stared at you, his gaze glittering with the wildness that spoke of a deep-rooted possessiveness, but when he spoke, his voice was deceptively sweet.

“You want daddy to breed you, baby?” Bucky cooed in your ear, his mouth pressing wet, messy kisses to your cheek and jaw. “You knew it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and you let me fuck you raw anyway—such a silly little cumslut pretending you didn’t want it, but you do, right, baby?”

All you could manage was a punched-out, “Uh huh,” Bucky’s heavy weight pressing the air from your lungs while he crushed you to the bed. He shifted a little, so you could breathe, but it didn’t seem to matter that you’d responded, because he went on as if he hadn’t even heard you.

“You wanna feel my fat cock bruising your cervix, baby?” he huffed, pausing only to nip at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, making you clench hard around his cock. His next words came out on a filthy groan, pouring into your ear and settling deep in your mind. “Ya want me to flood your fertile little cunt with my seed and breed you—is that it?” 

You were half feral yourself with desire, with your need to cum—with your need to feel him cum inside you—and you weren’t sure if Bucky was checking in with you, or if he was getting off on teasing you, but you rushed to answer, telling him the truth.

“God, Bucky, yes—please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his soft hair and towing his head until your mouth found his, kissing him messily while he kept fucking you in hard, rough thrusts. “Fill me up with your cum, daddy, make me your pretty little cumdump, please, I want it—I need it!” you cried into Bucky’s mouth, your words half muffled because neither of you wanted to pull away. 

“Jesus fucking christ, baby,” Bucky grunted, his hot breath panting past your lips. You felt his mouth curve into a sly smirk. “First you don’t want me to fuck you because it isn’t safe,” he murmured in a teasing tone. “And now you want me to breed your little pussy full of cum—which is it, baby, d’you want me to pull out or cum inside your unprotected cunt?”

A mindless moan slipped from your lips at his filthy question, your mind going entirely blank for a split second. All you could do was feel—Bucky’s thick cock pounding into your pussy, the tip hitting a spot inside you that felt so good, you never wanted him to stop. It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, even if it would’ve been the smart decision.

“Breed me, daddy,” you begged in a throaty, desperate voice. “Breed me, cum inside me—please, please, please!”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, but he sounded pleased, too. “I’m so fucking close, baby, so close to draining my balls in your tight little cunt.” 

His body shifted and then he was pounding into you in a new, better angle, making you feel impossibly good as you careened toward the edge of your release. 

“Tell me, baby,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours. “Tell me you never let John fucking Walker cum inside you—tell me I’m the only man allowed to breed you.”

You whined, well aware you’d already told him—and he already knew he was the only one allowed to cum inside you. But it fed the possessiveness Bucky felt, and it felt good to give him that, so you did. 

“You’re the only one,” you promised in a thready voice, your pleasure dripping from every word. “The only man allowed to cum inside me—you’re the only man allowed to breed me, daddy!”

Bucky captured your mouth in a dominating kiss, his tongue plunging past your lips like he was desperate to fuck as many of your holes at the same time as possible. You moaned into his mouth, gripping his face and holding him close while you sucked on his tongue, your nails raking through the scruff on his jaw, both of you groaning at how good the other felt.

Finally, Bucky managed to wrench himself away from your clinging grip and his face hovered above yours, a devious smirk on his plump lips.

“Ya know I heard,” he started, his voice a little breathless and gruff, the deep sound of it singing through your body and making you shiver as your pussy pulsed around his thrusting cock. “If you cum at the same time as me, you’re more likely to get knocked up.” 

A violent shiver raced down your spine and your pussy clenched hard around Bucky’s cock. His words were going to be the end of you, you just knew it, but what a glorious end it would be.

Bucky grinned at your body’s reaction, looking far too pleased with himself, though you were too far gone in your pleasure to try to wipe that smirk off his face. Not that he gave you much opportunity, ducking down to murmur in your ear.

“Rub your clit, baby, I wanna feel you cumming on my cock while I’m knocking you up.”

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you whimpered pleasure spiraling through you at his words, but you did as he said. 

You slipped your hand between your bodies, finding your clit messy and sticky with your desire, your fingertips brushing the thick shaft of Bucky’s cock as he fucked you. Rubbing your clit in ruthless little circles, your body pulled tight.

“Bucky, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop!”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the coiled tension in your body finally shattered, and you came with a strangled cry, pleasure consuming your mind and body. 

Your release washed over you in waves of bliss that were so intense, you could feel your arms and legs trembling, your cunt clenching hard around Bucky’s thick length that was still plunging deep into your grasping channel.

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s cock,” Bucky rasped, brushing sloppy kisses to your face as he rutted into you, his thrusts turning wild and rough. “You feel so fucking good, baby, you’re doing so good for me, gonna make me a daddy for real, baby—Jesus fuck.” 

Bucky cut himself off on a groan, his hips pressing flush to the backs of your thighs, his cock impaled to the hilt in your still fluttering cunt. He came with a loud moan, his cock twitching inside you as he shot rope after rope of cum into your pussy. Your inner walls milked every last drop of seed from his balls while he painted the inside of you white.

When Bucky was finally spent, he collapsed on top of you, your bodies easing into a more comfortable position. He lay on top of you in the cradle of your thighs, his palms smoothing over your hips and sides while your fingers stroked idly through his soft hair. You made small sounds of contentment, and an answering, pleased rumble, sounded in his chest. 

Finally, just when it was beginning to get uncomfortable bearing so much of Bucky’s weight, he heaved himself up onto his knees and carefully slid his cock from your thoroughly used pussy. You watched him, his gaze focused on the slit between your thighs, and you saw the moment his blue eyes darkened when his cum started dripping out of you.

You reached between you thighs, which were splayed over his his spread knees, to clean up the cum before it made a mess of your bedsheets, but Bucky knocked your hand away. He fished through the mussed up bedding until he found his discarded sweatpants and pulled his phone from the pocket. 

Your body was limp with sated pleasure, and he’d taken enough post-sex photos of you, that you let Bucky arrange you how he wanted. You even held your legs open for him so he could position his phone above your pussy and take a couple close-up photos of his cum spilling out of your pussy. Then he pulled his phone back, so your whole body was in the shot.

“Say, ‘I’m gonna be a mommy,’ baby,” Bucky ordered, a lazy grin on his face.

Between your thighs, your pussy pulsed at the words, which sounded so innocent and so filthy at the same time. Heat filled your cheeks and you turned your head to the side, trying to bury your face in a pillow while you whined, “Bucky.” 

You knew it was silly to be shy about saying something so innocuous, especially after everything you and Bucky had just said and done, but the moment was over. You didn’t normally have such a breeding kink, but you’d been so horny and it had made you so hot to talk about getting bred while Bucky was inside you. 

However, it felt like a whole other thing to play into it when the heat of the moment had passed. It felt like the kind of thing boyfriends and girlfriends did, and you knew better than to tread into that territory. 

Still, your body warmed at the idea of looking into Bucky’s camera and saying those words…

“Baby,” Bucky crooned, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “C’mon, I know you wanna,” he murmured in your ear, his mouth brushing butterfly kisses along your jaw. “You don’t have to be shy with me, baby, I know you’re a dirty little breeding slut desperate to be daddy’s good little cumdump.”

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” you groaned, but you were smiling when you turned your head and met his mouth for a kiss. 

Bucky let you kiss him for a few moments before he pulled away and sat up, holding his camera in position while he raised his eyebrows at you in an expectant expression.

“I’m gonna be a mommy,” you mumbled, pouting up at the camera while Bucky snapped a few photos. It wasn’t long before you were smiling and preening for the camera, sticking your tits out and holding your legs even wider for Bucky.

“Good girl,” he murmured, catching your eye as he lowered his phone. He was giving you a pleased smirk, and you smiled up at him in return.

Bucky gently moved your legs from around his waist and flopped down on the bed beside you, swiping through the photos he’d taken of his cum leaking out of your pussy while you curled around his bicep. You had to admit, they looked hot—even the ones of you pouting and mumbling up at him.

Seeing yourself like that was turning you on and you were just about to shimmy down Bucky’s body and lick his cock clean until he was hard again when he spoke, derailing your dirty thoughts.

“I’ll pick up the morning after pill for you before I head home,” he rumbled absentmindedly, still focused more on his phone. You could see him favoriting some of the photos he’d taken and saving them to a separate folder. “And if you are knocked up, I’ll pay to have it taken care of—but don’t expect me to cuddle you and do boyfriend shit after.”

For a moment, you restrained the urge to smack Bucky in the face with a pillow. And then you thought, why not? You weren’t his girlfriend, you didn’t need to play nice. 

So you grabbed the pillow behind your head and brought it down right on Bucky’s face. He let out a satisfying, startled ‘oomph’ sound, and you chuckled as you rolled out of bed. 

“Gee, thanks,” you shot over your shoulder sarcastically as you padded toward the bathroom, intent on cleaning Bucky’s cum from between your thighs. 

But then you had an evil thought and a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You wiped that look off your face, though, as you turned and leaned against your doorway, striking a casual pose.

“Maybe if I’m knocked up, I’ll just let John fuck me bare and tell him it’s his,” you said, giving a carefree little shrug while trying not to make it obvious how close you were watching Bucky.

You were delighted when his head snapped toward you, his gaze finally pulling away from his phone as his brows lowered into a glare. His soft mouth turned down at the corners, a furious frown darkening his face.

“D’you think John would offer to marry me?” you asked, ignoring Bucky’s reaction and tapping your chin with one finger like you were thinking. “He strikes me as the type of man who’d want to make an ‘honest woman’ out of me.” You couldn’t hold in your eye roll, even as you were trying to torture Bucky with the possibility of you marrying John fucking Walker.

In an instant, Bucky was up and off the bed, pinning you to the doorframe of your room with every inch of his big, strong body pressed against yours. You only had time to gasp while Bucky quickly gathered your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. His hardening cock was trapped against your belly, the stickiness of both your releases rubbing into your skin.

“You’re not marrying John fucking Walker, baby,” Bucky growled while he loomed over you. He was so close, you had to tilt your head back to look up at him, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. “And you’re certainly not raising my kid with Walker’s last name.” 

At that, you had to laugh. But when you saw how serious Bucky still looked, you realized he didn’t realize you were just trying to get a rise out of him. Something about the thought of you marrying John Walker had clearly made all rational thought completely abandon Bucky in that moment. 

Instead of thinking too hard about Bucky’s reaction, you explained yourself to him.

“Bucky, it was a joke,” you wheezed, giving him an incredulous look. “Of course I’m not gonna marry John.”

Bucky’s eyes flitted back and forth between yours, like he was checking to make sure you were being honest. He must’ve decided you were because he blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his forehead falling to yours. 

“Jesus, baby, you drive me fucking wild sometimes,” he rumbled, but there was humor in his tone, albeit reluctant.

A breathless laugh slipped from your lips and you leaned back against the doorframe, hiking your leg up around Bucky’s waist. He caught it in his free hand, the movement pressing his thickening cock between your thighs, making both of you groan.

“I think you should show me exactly how wild I make you,” you purred, rocking your hips against his stiff length, coating him in the mixture of your desire and his cum still leaking out of you. 

Bucky growled, his eyes flying open as he stared at you and worked his cock against your pussy. 

“Careful what you ask for, baby,” he rumbled, his tone a delicious taunt that had your toes curling against the floorboards and your hips tilting so you could rub your clit against his hard shaft. “Or you’re gonna get another load pumped into your tight, unprotected little cunt.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy,” you sassed, smirking up at Bucky and watching as his eyes darkened with desire.

In a flash, Bucky dropped your leg and let go of your wrists, spinning you around to face the doorframe and yanking your hips toward his lap with a rough, possessive grip on your body. Your upper body fell forward and your hands clung to the doorframe, nails digging into the wood when Bucky entered you in a swift, hard thrust.

Bucky fucked you in the doorway of your bedroom, making you promise yet again that you’d never let John Walker fuck you without a condom before emptying a second load inside you.

After, he followed you to the bathroom, hopping in the shower with you where he drained what little cum was left in his balls inside your pussy before helping you clean up—though you suspected he only offered to help so he could finger his cum deeper into your cunt under the pretense of cleaning you.

When you were both finally, finally sated, you collapsed into your bed together. Your mind was blissfully blank and your body deliciously sore as you cuddled together. Bucky dozed for a bit, his head on your chest while you carded your fingers through his hair and watched your show.

After a while, Bucky roused and got dressed, going out to get you the morning after pill from the nearest drug store, just like he’d said he would. 

He also brought you back your favorite sports drink and snacks, explaining in a gruff voice that he’d read the potential side effects of the pill on the box and wanted you to be prepared. You refused to feel any type of way about that.

Then Bucky kissed you and left to head home.

All things considered, it was a good thing your new birth control had taken effect, or the morning after pill had worked, and you didn’t get pregnant despite the evening you’d had with Bucky. It was a relief when you were able to tell him that your risky night hadn’t led to any of the consequences the both of you had willfully ignored.

When you texted him to tell him you’d gotten your period, he responded quickly, messaging twice in quick succession. The first text made you roll your eyes, because you thought that was all he’d have to say. 

Good.

But then you saw the second message, and you could imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ ridiculously handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye when he’d sent it.

It made you smile, and you had to bite your lip against a giggle, forcefully reminding yourself that he was just a situationship.

Let me know when you wanna play ‘just the tip’ to ‘breed me, daddy’ again, baby.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

[mcrdvcks]

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!

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Hawks x Y/N | Doggy Style

Just pictured Hawks fucking me doggy style and I straight up drooled...so here's a little head cannon about it. A18+ MDNI

When Hawks lines himself up behind you, your dripping wet with anticipation. He starts like he always does, gently spreading your legs and slipping his hands up and down your hips to appreciate your curves.

You shiver when you feel the head of his cock brush against your sensitive pussy. He grins and slides his dick back and forth against you slowly. His cockhead glides against your clit and you see stars at the contact.

"Please, Keigo." You groan out, face planted firmly in a pillow, your ass up in the air beneath his capable hands. "Can't wait any longer."

You hear him chuckle to himself from behind you, and then feel him gently pushing inside. That's the thing about Keigo - he's always so, so gentle when he fucks you.

It's funny...you're not even together. Not really. Just two friends who's careers prevent them from dating and settling down. Instead of trying your hands at the dating market, you fuck each other. It's easier this way. Less complicated. You each know what the other likes in bed, and there's no time to sleep around so you don't need to waste time with condoms.

He fucks into you slowly, like you're something precious. Strong, calloused hero hands grip the sides of your ass as he buries himself inside of you, inch by inch. When he bottoms out, he lets out a strangled gasp. "No matter how many times we do this, I never get used to the feel of you. So goddamn good." He practically growls, throwing his head back as he starts to move inside of you.

Each stroke is measured - he finds the perfect rhythm and tempo as he glides in and out of your soaked pussy. Your hazy brain's pleasure receptors sparkle at the way he bucks his hips to hit that special spot deep inside of you. You feel your orgasm building as he slides a hand down your hips, up your stomach and smooths rough fingertips across your nipples. You vaguely wonder at when this turned from a friends with benefits situation to love. When he fucks you like this - all sweet and thoughtful - you swear you're in love with him. This has got to be love, right?

He keeps his pace steady and scoots closer to you so he can kiss at the planes of your back. He presses soft, open mouthed kisses to all the skin within his reach. You back up into him, feeling his balls bounce against you as he keeps his rhythm steady.

"Yes, baby. Just like that. Take it. Take everything I've got." He practically moans, singing your praises as you help him fuck you. That's new - since when did he call you baby!?

"Keigo!" You cry out as he brings his fingertips down to play with your clit. He rubs slow, lazy circles around you, encouraging you to cum whenever your ready. "Keigo fuckkk. Cum inside me? Please. Please cum inside me oh fuck."

He doesn't need telling twice - he lets himself get comfortable inside of you, enjoying the warm squeeze and stretch of your tiny cunt as he fucks you.

You cum around his cock within minutes, crying out his name as he fucks you into oblivion. A creamy ring forms around his dick as you throw it back and fuck him senseless - riding out your orgasm as he rolls his hips steadily. The fluttering of your pussy around his dick sends him over the edge as well. Thick, warm ropes of cum fill you up quickly. Your pussy milks him, taking every bit of cum his cock is willing to give you.

When he's finally finished inside of you, he slowly pulls out. You know he likes to watch the creampie drip out of you slowly, so you hold your position to give him a good view. When he's had his fill of looking, he slips off the mattress and grabs a warm washcloth from the bathroom to indulge in some after care. He wipes gently between your legs, avoiding your gaze as does so.

"So..." He says, somewhat awkwardly as he wipes up his baby batter between your thighs. "I don't know that I can do this casually with you anymore. Y/N. I'm, like, down bad for you."

You snap your legs shut and look up at him, surprised.

"I want us to be more than fuck buddies. I think we should go on a date." He says earnestly, handing over the washcloth so you can continue the job on your own. "I mean...of course I want to continue fucking. Fucking you is literally my favorite thing. I just want it to mean something more."

"Keigo, you're babbling." You say. The face you're making is absolutely priceless - you definitely weren't expecting this conversation to happen tonight.

"Cumming makes me emotionally intelligent." He jokes, throwing you a cheeky fan service wink. "Think about it. The date, I mean."

"Alright. Let's start now. Wanna go grab some food?" You say, your stomach growling loudly in agreement. Hawks looks at you with hearts in his eyes and nods excitedly.

"A woman after my own heart." He slides off the bed to gather up your clothes and pass them your way. "It's a date."

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

Equipment and Time Considerations

You will need a pullman's loaf pan, which is a bread pan with a lid. the reason just tinfoiling a regular cake loaf pan doesn't work is because a pullman's is also considerably deeper and longer that a regular loaf pan, it can fit about a store-sized loaf of bread. which. which it's where the sizing actually comes from, historically.

This is a sourdough recipe so you have to remember to keep your starter well fed AND that the proofing takes considerably longer than anything with instant yeast.

I've modified a bunch of timings throughout the recipe. While your average sourdough boule takes an overnight final proof (making it a 2-day loaf) and your average pullman's loaf recipe takes about an afternoon, this will take about a day's (little under 12 hours give or take) worth of time.

Also note that it is currently around 19C/66F so I've been using my lightly heated oven to keep the dough at decent proofing temps (idk like 70 to 85ish degrees fahrenheit? whatever the equivalent of a sunny window day is). You'll need to figure out your equivalent

Ingredients

Levain -50ish g active, full hydration starter -35g whole wheat flour -35g AP or bread flour -70g/mL water, lukewarm

Remaining Ingredients (Not doing an autolyse for this one) -500g/mL water, lukewarm -35g sugar -450g AP or bread flour -200g whole wheat flour -15-20g salt -65g butter or margarine, plus some reserved

Method

Prepare the levain by mixing all ingredients together in a glass jar (i reuse an old jam jar), covering top with cling wrap, and leaving somewhere warm-ish for about 4 hours. You'll know it's ready when it's doubled in size and has just begun to fall

If you're using a stand mixer, pour your active levain into it. (any other large bowl will do if you're doing hand mixing). Add the sugar and the water to the levain, mixing together.

Let sit for 15-20 min. (I do this to encourage a bit of rapid growth in the yeast, it ups the culture's concentration and takes a bit of the acrid sour out of the flavour profile)

mix in remainder of the ingredients, flours, salt, butter/margarine. If you're using a stand mixer, have it go for about 5 min on the lowest setting. I run mine longer, but I'm using my roommate's old model so the lowest setting is slower. If kneading by hand I would say about 10 minutes or so, and since this is a wet dough, the slap and fold method is probably the way to go.

transfer back to the bowl and cover with plastic wrap, place in a proofer/warm area.

Now it's time for initial proofing and series of stretch and folds. Wait a half hour, then do a stretch and fold. Repeat this cycle three times so you're stretching and folding a total of 3 times. (30min>S&F>30min>S&F>30min>S&F>30min)

Take your pullman's loaf pan and butter/margarine the bottom and sides

heavily flour a surface of choice. Scrape the dough out and let the dough rest on the counter for about 20 minutes

using a floured bench scraper,burrito fold the dough into a loaf shape (roll in sides first, then roll the long way) and transfer to the buttered loaf pan.

Let that rest in the pan for 10 minutes, then preheat the oven on bake at about 375F. The loaf should be out in the open with no lid for at least 20 minutes, otherwise it'll be too wet for the bread lame to score. (You also have the option of fridging the entire pan with a rice flour coated dish towel to get the same drying effect, but idk what the timeline'd look like for that)

lightly sprinkle some more flour onto the top of the loaf and score bread to your liking.

bake with the lid on for 40 minutes, then slide the lid off, raise temp to 425F and swap to broil setting (we want the heat coming from up top now) for about 15 minutes

cool bread off on rack and enjoy!!!!!!!

everyone!!! i may be generally full of sadness! but!!!

look at my mfucking LOAF OF BREAD

I am writing the version of the resippy i used today since I make tiny adjustments each time, so hold your horses it's comin!

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

𓇻 𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗦 ˢᵉᵛⁱᵏᵃ ˣ ᵍⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Shortfic. Platonic (can be seen as rom). You are a horrible fighter and very much weak. So, no one understands why you're the other hand of Silco, and alongside his second in command, Sevika. But one day, she stumbles back and you show off your skills. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; If you're wondering how I'm cranking these out, it's because these were sitting in my drafts and I've decided to post them after a bit of refurbishing! Also, not a big fan of this one, doesn't have a smooth flow.

11.23.24

The dim glow of neon buzzed faintly outside Silco's office. Zaun always hummed with life, but tonight, there was an edge to it—a tension that hung heavy in the air. You sat quietly in the corner, as you often did, thumbing through a well-worn medical journal that had somehow survived the grime of the Undercity. Silco was across the room, doing his usual paperwork. Both of you remained silent, the only sounds being his pen scratching paper or the flipping of your pages.

Silco didn't pick you for your combat skills—everyone knew that. You weren't Sevika, with her mechanical arm and ruthless efficiency, nor were you one of the brash enforcers who made Piltover's elites shudder. You were soft, meek even, compared to them. The whispering never stopped. "Why keep a fragile little thing like that so close?"

You didn't care at all, you're only here to work.

The door slammed open, and Sevika staggered in, the floorboards loudly squeaking underneath her weight. Blood seeped through a gash in her side, staining her coat. She leaned heavily on the doorframe, her usual air of dominance replaced by exhaustion and pain.

"Sevika." Silco's voice was sharp, but calm, as he rose from his chair. His cold eyes flicked to you. "Do something."

You were already moving, tossing your book aside and rushing to Sevika's side. She waved you off with a grunt, trying to brush past you, but her knees buckled.

"Sit down before you collapse," you snapped, uncharacteristically firm.

Her glare could've melted steel, but she complied, sinking into a chair. "Don't need a damn babysitter," she muttered, clutching her side.

"You need stitches," you said, pulling open your satchel. You always carried it, just in case—gloves, thread, antiseptic, syringes, and tools you'd cobbled together over the years. "And maybe a tetanus shot if whatever stabbed you wasn't clean."

You snapped on your gloves, stretching them around your fingers. You seemed oddly calm, as if this were routine.

"How do you even—?" Sevika started, but winced as you pressed gauze against the wound.

"Hold still." Your hands moved with precision, cleaning the wound and threading the needle. You heard her grunt in pain. "This would be easier if you stopped squirming." You felt the warmth of her blood coating your gloves.

Silco watched from the corner, silent but attentive. His gaze was calculating, as though measuring you against some invisible scale.

Sevika's breathing steadied as you worked. Her grumbles softened into a grudging silence, and when you tied off the final stitch, she finally spoke. "

You're good at this," she admitted, though her tone was reluctant. She never knew you could do this. She's never seen you work.

"Better than being good at fighting, don't you think?"

Silco’s lips twitched—just barely—but it was the closest thing to a smile you’d seen from him. "Better indeed," he murmured.

Sevika leaned back in her chair, examining your work. "Guess I owe you one," she said gruffly, though her tone suggested she wasn't thrilled about it.

You shrugged, collecting your things. "Just doing my job."

For the first time, the room was silent—not out of suspicion or derision, but respect.

The quiet between the three of you didn't last long. Sevika shifted in her chair, grimacing as she tested her side. "Still hurts like hell," she grumbled, though there was less edge to her tone.

"That's because you're not a machine, Sevika, no matter how much that arm makes you think you are," you replied without missing a beat, gathering the bloodied gauze and tossing it the nearby bin before tugging off your gloves in suit. "You'll need to take it easy for a few days. No heavy lifting, no bar brawls, no running headfirst into walls,” You paused, turning to your employer, Silco, "And work no jobs." You saw Silco narrow his gaze before nodding in agreement before you turned your head back at Sevika. "Understood?"

Her laugh was sharp, almost incredulous. "Take it easy? You do realize who you're talking to, right?"

She doesn't take orders from you, Silco has to say it himself.

You raised an eyebrow, unbothered. "I do. And I also know if you pop those stitches, you'll be right back here begging me to patch you up again. And I don't like beggars." You spoke in a lightly mocking tone.

Sevika started to retort, but Silco cut her off. "Sevika." His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of finality. "You'll do as they say. You're no good to me half-dead."

For a moment, Sevika looked like she might argue, but she thought better of it. Instead, she leaned back in the chair with a huff, the cushion collapsing behind her. She muttered something under her breath about "soft hands" and "too many rules."

Silco turned his attention to you, his mismatched eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you.

You straightened, feeling his gaze like a weight on your shoulders. "I know how to keep people alive." You did not turn around, instead keeping your eyes transfixed on Sevika, looking for any hints of discomfort.

"And that, it seems, is worth more than I gave it credit for," he replied, his tone softening just slightly. "Zaun needs fighters, yes. But it also needs people who can mend what others break."

Sevika snorted, crossing her arms. "You're lucky, y'know," she said, nodding toward you. "Most people like you wouldn't last a day down here. Seems you got the skill to.”

You didn't reply, instead focusing on cleaning your tools. You weren't one to bask in attention, at least of all from the likes of Sevika or Silco. Still, her words lingered in the air, carrying an odd mix of grudging respect and curiosity.

"I'd rather keep it that way."

Her huff was faint, hesitant. “Thanks... doc.” You weren't the bruiser, the muscle, or the enforcer. But you were something else, something Zaun desperately needed. And Silco knew it. That's why he kept you close.

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

[paperstarwriters]

to Hear, to Feel, to Know

Inspired by @muletia’s Obsessed Optimus fanfics—they just so so so so good!! The yearning, the ill-buried desire, Optimus chaining himself in place like some dog with a biting problem when all he wants to do is love you???? OUAGH so so good!!

Asdfghjkl I wanna try my own hand at a fic looking at Optimus’s tendency towards obsession in love, but for now, I’ve been thinking about Optimus as a bot who tends to listen….

Pairing: Optimus Prime x Reader

Warnings: n/a

Summary: Optimus is a bot who's exceptionally good at listening. What he likes listening to most of all though, is you.

Masterlist | Transformers Masterlist

Word count: 1,106

───♡-♥-♡-♥-♡-♥-♡───

There was no denying that Optimus had a keen eye, and an even keener attention. His ability to promptly decipher texts based on key words or phrases allowing him to understand the greater picture from his days as an archivist served to train him well in noticing patterns of behaviour if he focused his attention on it. The ongoing war certainly helped as well, forcing him to zero in on what would allow them to survive. Forcefully training his eye to fall to keep points in any battle field.

And yet as trained as his eyes were, Optimus was always keen to listen.

Or perhaps absorbing was a better comparison. How despite being a leader, despite giving commands, Optimus was almost always better suited to listening to the people around him. The information that they shared, the feelings they expressed. Ratchet always used to say he would make for a much kinder medic than he if he took a role in that field. Perhaps it could have served him even better as a leader, but there was little he could change through the tides of time.

It’s why he clings to these things, saving them in the event that one day they may save him. From another attack or another encounter with Megatron, to even a stretch of boredom or loneliness.

It is why he clings to your every word.

Why he loves it when you sit atop his shoulder. So close to his helm, it is as if you’re speaking directly into his processor, filling his thoughts with your words—your delights, your frustrations, your sorrows, your needs. A direct feed like some constant supply of energon into his lines.

Both, he supposed would make his spark stutter a bit.

Ah, just thinking about it brings to mind the many times you’ve pressed yourself against his audial, leaning against his helm or purposely cupping his audials as you whispered sweet words his way, words for him and him alone, a gift sweeter than any energon could ever be.

You didn’t even have to be saying something sweet. Scathing secrets and vicious critiques against some other’s back from the mistreatment you received in the hands of a cruel stranger or an even crueler co-worker, or even some coy remark against a teammate, the fact that you chose to whisper your words to him—to confide your secrets and burning emotions to his audials.

Even being chosen as a Prime was a lesser honour than this.

But perhaps the thing he enjoys listening to most, though your every word delights him and your laughter makes his spark feel so light it might burst from his chest, the sound Optimus likes best it’s the soft thud of your heartbeat and the whisper of your breath.

He recalls when he first heard the sound, mass displaced at your request as you showed to him your beating heart after he showed you his whirring spark.

There is meaning to the action, to show one’s spark to the other, but Optimus felt he need not explain it to you, knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to return the gesture.

And yet somehow you did.

Even if you could not pull back the viscera from your chest the way he did the plates of his chassis, you brought his helm to your chest, pressed his audial against you, and implored him to listen.

And he did.

In the caverns of your chest, Optimus heard as air filled your lungs, swelling with every breath you took, and for a moment he mistook that steady beat for an abnormal twitch, until you began to explain.

“That’s my heart.” You had told him. “The ‘thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud’.”

And pressing just a bit harder, Optimus stilled his fans to listen to the faint beat.

And he heard it.

Loud against his audial the drum of your heart pounded against your chest like an insistent knock, or the demands of a captive begging to be freed.

Though perhaps that’s just wistful thinking.

He hears it in his full form sometimes, when you lean your back against his helm or when you cling to his audial in a moment of fear or excitement. A gentle faint rhythm, that sings that you’re alive.

He wishes some days that it would accompany him in his berth, as he lies under the midnight silence hounded by the whispers and wails of the dead of the living he must fight, of the humans he’d never know. They all rattle and sob frying his processor as he starves himself of a proper recharge, but then, some days he hears something this in the base. Perhaps it’s his own movement, perhaps something falls—once even it was the rumble and stroke of thunder and lightning overhead. All the same, it brings to his mind the thump of your heartbeat, and like a spring being unwound, he replays your words in his head. Every praise, every sweet word, every secret you’d give him. Your smile your laughter, your delight and glee he’d play them all over and over in his processor, lingering on the compliments you’d direct his way, every smile you’d make when your eyes met his.

All with the background theme of your heart singing its little song of life, your every breath an instrument to the symphony.

You were here, you were alive, you were with him.

Ah, but sometimes those moments stung worse than the wailing dead.

You were not here with him now, and all he had was the echo of your heartbeat. If he could hum its melody he would, but the sound doesn't comply with his voice box. Still he taps it out with a digit sometimes or a pede even, a little reminder of a precious tune.

He hasn’t had the chance to listen to your heart again. To mass displace and press his head against your chest, to listen to that sound, and maybe listen to you speak as he follows the gentle beat. He hopes one day he might get the chance. He hopes one day to tell you what it means when one shows the other their spark.

One day, he dreams, he’d tell you what it meant, and you’d smile, perhaps in rapt delight, perhaps shyly, but you’d open your arms to him and allow him to listen once more, let him listen as he lets you watch his glowing spark.

Until then, he basks in what he can get, faint as it is against his full form, listening to the soft beat of your heart, feeling you warm and pressed against him, resting assured in the knowledge that you were here, you were alive.

[chaosduckies]

Silence In The City (2)

Don’t really know how to feel about this one but oh well the brainrot wanted it. This one is a little heartwarming though! (To me). So uhhh just enjoy another part of the kaiju stories :D

CW: Anxiety

Word Count: 4.4k

2- Devon

When I woke up this morning there were several people effortlessly getting me to my feet. I groaned, unaware of what was happening. Several people were talking as they shoved my forward but my legs didn’t want to move. They kept yelling commands at me as I groggily rubbed my eyes open. “Wha-” I barely choked the words out before being thrown onto an oddly familiar, hard metal floor. My arms were a little shaky trying to keep my body up. My vision was a little blurry, but as I looked around I could tell I was in an extremely dim room. I took deep breaths to calm down. To stop myself from overthinking. Where was I? I thought I was going home today. What was going on? Were they going to kill me? I bit the bottom of my lip, forcing my head up to take in my surroundings. There were huge metal walls, a mirror high above, something black moving… Wait…

My eyes widened once the black, scaly and spiky looking wall in front of me moved along the metal floor. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. This place made everything worse. My eyes felt red and puffy after crying myself to sleep last night, and not to mention how I spend almost every waking moment here anxious and scared. After the experience with Kieran I thought I would be able to go home… apparently not. After all, I was in the same room as him right now. I think. My hands turned into fist as what seemed like their tail lifted up, revealing tired eyes. I jumped, staring. It was Kieran all right. The same purple eyes as yesterday. 

Kieran rolled his eyes, huffing through his nose and moving his tail over me. I placed my hands over my head, a little scared that he was going to crush me. I also had just woken up so my mind was everywhere but thinking about the way he treated me yesterday. Nice and some-what calmly and not the monster that they said he was. After a few seconds, when I realized that I wasn’t dead, I turned my head to see that their tail was surrounding me. Why? He didn’t really seem like he even wanted to be around anyone. Heck, I didn’t even know what time it was. Just early in the morning. 

He stole a glance over at me, holding a silent staring contest. I sucked in a deep breath, rubbing my eyes and yawning. He blinked, doing the same but covering up his mouth. I stared down at the ground. I think I had an idea of why they would cover up their mouth but I wasn’t going to say anything. Even though I was still half asleep I’m sure I would pass out. I’m surprised I haven’t yet. Kieran glared at the mirror, making himself smaller and struggling with how small the room was for him. The horns on his head hitting the roof every now and then. He grumbled everytime, just burying his head into his knees. Was it really that hard just to raise the ceiling a little? It seemed annoying to him. How does he even stand up? I feel like it would cramp up my legs if I was forced to sit down all day. I doubt he could even stretch them out.

I started to lay down before there was a red light blaring above. Kieran turned to me, “You need to get up.” He whispered. His voice still hurt my ears but not nearly as much before. I forced myself back up, even standing on my feet. I was scared of not doing what he tells me to. Especially after thinking of how many times I could’ve died yesterday. Too many. Would today be like yesterday? Why was I here? I yawned again, rubbing my eyes. 

Kieran studied me for a while before looking up at the ceiling, ignoring the flashing red lights. Eventually they went away but I had no idea what they were for. Was something about to happen? It was already hard enough to keep myself from having another anxiety attack. I didn’t have my pills either. I took a few seconds to just focus on something and clear my mind. That usually helps. I hadn’t realized Kieran looking at me confused before I turned back around, a little more calm. I played with my hands before one of the walls started opening, revealing an outside space that was still surrounded by walls that seemed to go on for forever. The sun shone brightly above, even though it was still morning. The place it shone on relished in the light with the many trees and overgrown weeds and bushes. It actually looked kind of beautiful in a way. I guess that answers my question of how he hasn’t just given up on life yet. Though this place kind of looks familiar. I knew this base I was in was by the ocean of course, but where? I shook my head, watching as Kieran crawled onto his hands and knees still somehow managing to bang the back of his head hard against the roof. He winced, groaning out frustration. If I were being honest it was a terrifying sight, chills ran down my spine, but there was no way he’d hurt me, right? 

“Let him die and you’ll regret it.” There was a voice over a speaker that made the spikes on Kierans back flare up. Like he felt threatened. He was right to think that, even her voice made me terrified. Though that wasn’t hard to do. Kieran rolled his eyes, but I could tell that he was fine with letting me come along. He nudged his head outside, as if telling me to follow. I jumped, jogging and slowing down when I ran past one of his hands. This was going to be a lot of work for me. It was too early in the morning to be out exercising. I winced when I rolled my ankle, nearly tripping. I really was a sad excuse for a human. I caught myself, letting out a sigh of relief when I didn’t fall. Kieran tilted his head when I stopped, apparently not seeing how I almost tripped. To be honest I couldn’t be more grateful that he didn’t see. He seemed like the teasing type. Even if he was more alone and annoyed than anything. 

I paused when Kieran started moving, lowering his head and squinting his eyes down at me. He let out a huff from his nose, “This is the last time I’m helping you.” I jumped, shutting my eyes closed and hearing some shuffling before everything seemed to stop. When I looked back, I saw his hand laid flat onto the ground, still huge and looked hard to even climb on to. I looked back up at him, his eyes reading ‘hurry up’. I hesitantly ran over to his hand, struggling to climb on. It was hard and it made me feel uneasy at just how huge he was compared to me. He seemed to grow impatient this way too, but I forced myself up, the muscles in my arms tired. As soon as I was on I rolled onto my back, sighing and looking up, only seeing the ceiling far above me. 

This all felt so strange. This wasn’t my first time in his hand and yet, it felt so different. Instead of trying to keep me in a fist he just kept his palm up, fingers a little curled as if creating a border. My heart was racing. What was I thinking? The one time I’m not thinking and this is what happens. I’m completely at his mercy. He could drop me and not even know. Forget that I’m there. I heard my own heartbeat beat through my ears, my vision growing a little stretched out. I sighed, sitting up and taking long and deep slow breaths. They didn’t give me the chance to grab my pills… or even take them beforehand. I’d have to go through the day without any help.

Kieran tilted his head in confusion, not giving a warning before bringing his hand up, giving a small glance to make sure I was okay before crawling through the door. It was weird. I was high up, but I know he wasn’t standing up. Was it for me? There was no way. He seemed a little annoyed already that he had to help me again after saying he wouldn’t do so anymore yesterday. I still have no idea what that meant.

It would be crazy to say that I wasn’t terrified. Who wouldn’t be in this situation? Going to an unknown abandoned part of a city, only having a half-human half-kaiju looking out for you that had very hard emotions to read. Seriously, I couldn’t tell if he was happy that I was forced to be in here or just annoyed. My fate had seemed to be between his palm or a deadly fall. Not sure which I trusted more. Even though Kieran seemed to prove that he really wasn’t harmful at all. At least to me. 

Kieran brought us both to an empty space that looked like he stayed here often with how everything was moved around for his convenience. We both turned to each other, as if he was trying to figure out what to do with me. My anxiousness couldn’t take it as I gripped the hem of my shirt and fidgeted with my shaky hands. What was he going to be doing with me? I hated how he waited so long before lowering his hand to the ground, slightly tilting it so it was easier to slide down. I stumbled off with a yelp before eating a mouthful of thankfully soft grass that broke my fall. I groaned slightly, hearing Kieran very softly laugh above me before apologizing, “Sorry.” It was unsettling that he could see me. Not even mention hear me. Like I wouldn’t be able to escape even if I could. He’d easily found me. Or… maybe that’s how he noticed me in danger? Besides seeing the Kaiju that was running through the streets, how would he have known I was trapped and needed help? I guess having good sight and hearing was a good thing. The pros outweigh the cons apparently. 

He moved, the ground shaking slightly as he did and laid down in the clearing he had made for himself, a pair of arms being used as a headrest and the other two tucked away underneath his stomach. The sun was barely going to start rising, meaning it wasn’t even six in the morning yet. I rubbed my eyes, yawning before sitting up, cleaning the dirt off of my clothes. What was the purpose of me even being here? Should I ask Kieran? Would he know? He does word things a little weird. Like he’s not going to help me anymore? When would he have to after this? My parents would probably want to move away from the coast like they always have. I think the only reason we stayed was because I absolutely loved the beach. So was it my fault we were in this mess in the first place? I shook my head, trying to take my mind off of it. I can just ask my parents when I get home, right? 

When I looked back up to Kieran, his eyes were closed, his breathing slow. Should I ask  him now? While he’s not in such an anguished mood? Was it a bad idea? Would he do something if I bothered him? Would he try to scare me off again? A million thoughts raced through my head. It was hard to choose between which one, or the many outcomes. He might not even wake up! Should I raise my voice a little? Could I even manage that? It didn’t seem very likely if I were being honest. 

“...Will I be g-g-going back home?” I nearly choked on my words, unhopeful of an answer. I was too quiet. Kieran had to be asleep- his head lifted up almost immediately. I couldn’t tell if he was shocked or just trying to catch my own reaction. He sighed, letting out a huff of air from his nose, ruffling my hair. “No. Probably not.” I didn’t know if it was just me, but I couldn’t help but catch the sad hint in his voice. The words hit me twice as hard then. I… Wouldn’t be going back home? Why? I thought they said I would be! I heard my heartbeat ring through my ears, my breathing seeming to slow down. I couldn’t cry here! It would be pathetic! Were the scientists watching? 

“L-look,” He stuttered, “I didn’t mean to say it so harshly, but they’re probably not going to let you go back after doing what they asked you to. That’s why I tried to scare you off yesterday but… you’re very hard to be annoyed and mad at.” For once, I could read his emotions clearly. He was sad. Worried. Almost like it was directed for me. My lips quivered. So if I had run from him yesterday I would’ve been gone? Back home? Why did I have to be so stubborn? Why did I always make the wrong decision? I wanted so badly to run but I didn’t. I wiped away the incoming tears. He really wasn’t trying to be mean. He was just trying to save me. To send me back home. So why did he react that way? Why was it so hard to get mad at me? It seemed to be the complete opposite with other people. 

“I-I’m sorry.” Maybe he didn’t want to be around me anyways. Was that an unspoken reason? I shouldn’t have even been outside that day. I should’ve just forced my way into the underground bunkers like my parents had done. Kieran shouldn’t have had to save me in the first place. Then I would’ve been fine and probably still living out my depressing life. 

Another huff of air hit me, “I don’t know why you’re apologizing. It was my fault why you’re stuck here anyways,” He winced, propping his head up with one of his hands, “I should be the one sorry, and I am.” This was probably the most he’s ever talked to me. A little loud for my ears even though he was whispering, but there was nothing I could do about that. I stayed silent for a while. What else was there to do? I was here for Kieran! Heck, I didn’t even know why they brought me here. But another question popped into my mind.

“Why d-did you s-save me then?” I fidgeted with my hands. That kept the both of us quiet for a while. Neither of us knew what to say. Like even Kieran didn’t know why he saved me. I mean I’m extremely grateful that he did but if he knew that this would happen then why do it in the first place? 

“You needed help. I saw you. And, well, I didn’t want you to die. So I just helped you out.” Kieran stared, his full attention on the next words that leave my mouth. What was I supposed to say? It was nice of him to help just because I was in danger but why did he emphasize that he didn’t want me to die? Were they telling him otherwise? I wouldn’t be shocked if that were the case. They didn’t seem to have any regard for anyone. What was one death going to do anyways when you could save millions of other people? I guess a lot of people thought the same way. 

“Th-thank you.” I turned and looked away. I already said thank you, but it was all I could think of to say. Kieran rolled his eyes, though I could see the slight smile on his face,“Now it’s my turn,” His voice was a lot softer as he moved closer to me, though I instinctively moved a little bit away. He didn’t show any reaction to it, but I could tell he was going to say something. 

“Why are you still here if you’re scared?” He pointed a finger out into the city, the sun rising above it finally. I flinched ever so slightly, but of course that caught his attention and made him frown just a tiny bit. 

“U-um, it’s uh-” I didn’t actually have a reason for staying. Because I didn’t want to be alone? Because it was the right thing to do? It was a hard question to answer. I knew it was easy to see that I was afraid, but if I were being honest I’d rather take my chances with Kieran than going off somewhere else. Plus, I was still confused why the scientists said something about me dying. What did it mean? Was there something else in here? I was tempted to ask Kieran but it was their turn for questions, and I couldn’t even answer one. 

“I just feel safer here. Even though you’re huge.” I move my hands out apart to explain my point, trying to calm my racing heart. Did I answer it right? Was that what he wanted to hear? Kieran stared with curious eyes, only to let out a playful huff through his nose, full on laughing. I had to cover my ears to make sure my eardrums wouldn’t bust, but I laughed lightly with him too. I admit it was funny, but to Kieran it might be for a different reason. 

“Ah, sorry that was loud,” He apologized, quieting his voice to a whisper that was still a little loud for me, “You feel safer with someone you’re scared of? You’re just strange. But in a good way I guess.” A good way? What did that mean? Was there even a good version of being strange? In my book there wasn’t if people say you’re weird then you’re weird. That’s just how it worked. But I guess in a way Kieran knew things others didn’t. Obviously things I didn’t either. 

Kieran sighed, seemingly focused on something that wasn’t here. I lowered my hands back from my ears and began playing with them. What should I do? I was terrified of going off on my own, but I also didn’t just want to stay there doing nothing. Then again, did I really have a choice? Ever since I’ve been here I haven’t been able to do what I’ve wanted to. I didn’t have time to grab my pills, I haven’t eaten in over a day, pretty much everything hurt, I’ve had several breakdowns and it hasn’t even been a full day here. I’d say things were going pretty bad. 

“You know you don’t have to stay here. Just watch out for the small kaiju. They have them out.” Kieran explained. My eyes widened, my heart slightly beating faster. I could even hear it ring in my ears. Small kaiju? Like the ones that are as big as a large dog? I don’t even think I could handle those if I were being honest. I’ve never had to fight back against any kind of kaiju. Heck, I’m pretty sure I’d just pass out. It would be pathetic to say that to Kieran though. Even though he probably already thinks that about me. No surprise there really. 

I stayed silent, even moving the slightest bit closer to Kieran despite my heart beating rapidly. He stared for a long while before sighing through his nose, ruffling my hair a bit, “Whatever  you want.” He shrugged his shoulders, turning back towards whatever was going on. It was still early in the morning, and honestly I was tired and hungry but my anxiousness kept me distracted. There were kaiju in here that could kill me. Was that why they had said I could die? I thought they had just meant that Kieran would be the one to kill me, but apparently it was the complete opposite. He was the one protecting me. 

I jumped when I heard something distant, like something falling and crashing. The Kaiju? Were they coming here? My heart rang faster through my ears as I turned around. There was nothing there, but there was no that whatever fell did on its own. “U-um, is that them?” I wasn’t sure he heard me, but he just sighed, “Annoying….” My eyes widened? Was I annoying? Should I stop talking? What was he going to do? Was I in trouble? I mean of course I was in trouble but that didn’t help figure out what he was going to do! I knew I was annoying but did it have to be now to say it? Right when I was already anxious? 

Kieran held his head up with one of his hands, the other moving right in front of me, like he was waiting for something. I looked around, seeing that his arm was covering my last escape route. To go along with that, there was a not so small Kaiju rounding the corner. Okay, maybe small for Kieran but for me? It was twice the size of a bear, looked kind of like a really scaly dog. What really caught me off guard was the extremely sharp fangs. I jumped when it growled and charged towards me, baring its sharp teeth at me. My body was too terrified to move, let alone even scream. Kieran let out a huff through his nose and just simply moved his hand towards it, making them whine exactly like a dog would. I caught the smirk on Kieran’s face looking like he was pleased with himself. 

I hadn’t realized that I was breathing fast until I felt the air in my lungs give out on me. I took a few seconds to calm down once again. This was way too hard without taking my pills for the day. Just the constant worry and stress was too much to handle while out here. Didn’t I tell them about it? So why was I forced to be here? Kieran side-eyed me, probably to make sure I was okay. I probably looked like it since he looked away almost immediately, but I most definitely was not. Was I really annoying to him? Or maybe he was talking about the kaiju? He hadn’t even done anything to that one and they ran off. Does he deal with them everyday? If they knew he didn’t like them near then why even go near him? None of it made sense at all, but I couldn’t be more grateful that I wasn’t the one he threatened and instead the one he saved. Multiple times I might add even after he said that he wouldn’t anymore yesterday. 

“They’re annoying, not you. Don’t worry about it.” He explained. How did he know? Every. Single. Time. It’s like he could read how I felt or something. Like an empath. I couldn’t do that and I was freakishly good at reading people. How does he keep doing this? 

“They stay away from you?” I forced myself to stand up on shaky legs, walking over to his hand that had scared the one from earlier. Somehow it was a lot easier to talk to Kieran now. Like I was growing used to it? Should I? If I’m not going home, is that a good thing? I had no idea.I tried my best to ignore the lingering fear of being this close to Kieran, hiding behind his hand while peeking out to look for more of those kaiju. Kieran had waited a long time to answer. Like he was nervous or something. Though I was patient, taking a few shaky steps back when I heard another one. 

“Um, y-yeah,” He paused, his voice sounding a little nervous while moving his hand so I was hiding behind it again, “But you’re here so they kind of just want you.” His voice went back to being deep and short. Why did he sound nervous at first? I didn’t pay too much attention, too focused on the threat that minded its own business. Kieran sighed, “Kind of boring out here isn’t it?” My eyes widened. Was he actually starting a conversation with me? A mixture of emotions hit me. Excitement, a little bit of fear, but that didn’t stop me from replying like normal, “You mean besides the murderous dogs coming after me? Y-yeah I guess it is.” I tried to sound funny, and obviously it worked because we both started laughing, Kieran making sure to laugh quieter for me. 

It made me feel happy for once that I could make someone laugh besides my parents from time to time. I haven’t really felt this way in a while, and it's strange that I’m sharing it with someone who’s only partly human. Kieran stopped laughing and started to hold himself up, placing both arms underneath him. The silence stretched between us before my stomach growled quietly. I tried to muffle the sound so Kieran wouldn’t hear, but it was pretty much useless. He extended a hand out, “Let me guess, they didn’t feed you?” I nervously backed up, clutching my stomach and nodding my head. What did he think of me now? Just a few seconds we were having a little laugh but of course I had to ruin everything. 

“C’mon. They’ll probably give you something.” He waited for me to get onto his hand, a tired look on his face as always but there was something else that I couldn’t read. Why was he so confusing? Or maybe that wasn’t the right word.. Closed off? Maybe that was it. He didn’t make it easy to read any of his emotions at least. 

I walked over to his hand, trying to climb on but failing miserably as usual. It was just hard since I couldn’t get my leg over, but eventually I got the hang of it. I rolled over onto my back, sitting up and catching my breath. I really was small to him. I couldn’t even get onto his hand without trouble. I sighed hopelessly, clutching my stomach in case it decided to make the most embarrassing noise ever again. I just laughed softly in the end though , “What happened to not helping me again?” 

Kieran’s eyes shot open wide like he had forgotten his own promise. He huffed through his nose and rolled his eyes. For a second I thought he was actually mad at me before he laughed along, “I guess I changed my mind.” 

How could these people have treated him so horribly?  ——————

Again, don’t know how to feel about it and I think I mainly wrote this to satisfy my brainrot (I only want more now so that kind of backfired) But these two are definitely my favorite OC’s! Yes I am a still a little sick, but I’m working on editing all of the writing I did and will probably post them throughout the week!

Taglist: @da3dm @dav8530

If you would like to be added or removed please let me know!

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

jason todd with a partner who’s into skincare/haircare

he didn’t know people actually did those 10 step korean skincare routines until he met you

he goes over to your place one day and sees all of the products in your bathroom and is like how could you possibly use all of these

he grew up with a broke mom and then a bunch of men, even billionaire bruce wayne doesn’t really do much besides some fancy hair products maybe

will probably be a bit skeptical like he lowkey thinks it’s a scam because no way do you need that many products just for your face

but if you sit him down and explain everything i think he’ll understand (or at least he understands that it’s important to you. don’t expect him to become a skincare expert overnight)

thinks you’re kinda cute when you’re doing your routine, like with your little headband and how focused you are while you’re doing it

will loiter around in the washroom, spend extra long brushing his teeth so he has an excuse to watch you

he will 100% laugh at how goofy you look when you put on a face mask though

make him wear one and suddenly he isn’t laughing anymore

if you try to make him do a whole skincare routine he’s going to grumbling the whole time but he’ll still do it

still thinks it’s kind of unnecessary (“why are we washing our face to make it dry to slap on wet stuff?”)

he lowkey does enjoy it though

he doesn’t have too many skin problems (i feel like he did have acne as a teenager but he grew out of that) besides maybe like his skin being on the dry side

definitely has ashy elbows and knees too

so at the very least he appreciates the moisturizarion, but he doesn’t really get the other stuff

feel like he’ll stick to just splashing his face with water or going like “i wash my face when i shower” but when you’re doing your routine he’ll steal some of your moisturizer

i think as time goes on, he’ll really like the domesticity of the whole nighttime routine thiugh

like shower, blow dry hair, brush teeth, skincare

luckily he’s not a 2 in 1 type of guy but that’s only because he straight up didn’t understand what conditioner was for

and i feel like he would just buy one of those costco sized bottles of body wash, like a neutral scented one so he doesn’t have to think about restocking (also it’s the most price efficient)

will tease you if you have fancy shampoo and conditioner

but who’s going to steal it after all of that teasing? he is

i think he just does it accidentally but ends up finding the smell really comforting (reminds him of you) and also his hair feels weirdly nice

might use it once in a while

definitely see him enjoying having his hair blow dried and also blow drying your hair

it’s a weirdly intimate act

also i feel like he’s not big on words, so sometimes he does other things to show he cares for you

like just the little things

he knows you take your skincare routine seriously, so if there’s ever a day when you feel too tired to do it, he knows something is up

will probably try to gauge what the situation is, like whether it’s a problem with work or school, if you want to talk about; or if it’s just been a long day

will help you to the washroom and if you’re too tired, will do your skincare for you

he’s watched you enough times to kind of know what he’s doing

personally hc that he has to get used to the change in his body and physical strength after the lazarus pit so he’s careful to be as gentle as possible

handles you like you’re on the verge of breaking

he’ll tie your hair into a loose ponytail (he knows it could be tighter but he’s kinda worried that it’ll hurt if he does another loop), keep the headband stretched as he pulls it over your head so that it doesn’t make contact with your face

makes sure the water isn’t too hot (you have to assure him that if the water is a little hot it won’t kill you and that for the oil cleanser to come off properly he’s going to need to make it hotter) and rubs the softest circles into your face

i think he’s focusing on this too much to be talkative

it’s kinda cute watching him struggle with some of the products

he’s trying to remember the order of the products and where on your face you put each one

you might have to give him pointers from time to time

i think he starts giving you obnoxious kisses all over your face as you’re trying to do your skincare to tease you

but after a few times i don’t think it’s a joke anymore…

will accidentally taste some serum and be traumatized though (please do not try to eat skincare!!)

will stick to your lips

[sodapopseagull]

I'm supposed to be editing Hold Person I'm SUPPOSED TO BE EDITING AAAAAAAAA

Aaaaaaah shit my fingers slipped... anyone want some wistful AU Gale and Tara? ⬇

"Oh Tara, haven't you ever dreamed of something beyond this?" Gale gazed wistfully out the window, the sweet spring breeze tickling his nose. Over rolling hills and red-tiled roofs lay the sea, glittering and sapphire-blue in the afternoon sun, ships with their broad, unfurled sails drifting beyond that distant, mysterious horizon. "Of a grand adventure? A wild, untamed romance?"

"I dream of you finishing your evocation exercises, Mister Dekarios," Tara answered between dainty licks of her little, white-toed paw. "Missus Dekarios will be rather cross if you are late for tea again."

"But Tara," Gale protested, rising from his perch on the window seat and gathering his beloved tressym in his arms. She pressed her paws to his chest in protest as he swung her around in wide circles. "Imagine us! Taking to the road, the sea! Sleeping under the stars, slaying monsters, sharing stories around a roaring fire with a collection of eccentric companions." He giggled, taken by his own fantasy. "I imagine one of them to be a dashing rogue, all sharp edges on the outside, but sweet as a kitten within. The places we would go..."

Tara scoffed, wriggling from the cage of his arms to her usual perch on his shoulders. "Please, Mister Dekarios. You get cranky when you haven't had a chance to bathe before suppertime." Then she nudged his temple with her chilly nose and licked the freckle on his temple. "I think you have spent a bit too much time lost in your books."

"Where else am I meant to lose myself?" Gale wondered, his shoulders sagging.

Another little lick, this time on his cheek. "Now now, there's no need to sulk. We are both going to do what we must. You will finish your exercises, I shall keep a watchful eye on you, and then we can both lose ourselves in another story, yes? I do believe we're nearly done with our latest."

Gale nodded, weaving his fingers together and giving his arms a good, long stretch. "You're right Tara, as always." He gave the landscape beyond one final, longing look. "Once this marriage business is settled, then we can discuss adventures."

"Quite right, Mister Dekarios."

[xtarmanderx]

So I might have started another WIP. I am so close to being done with the soulmate one, this one section has been testing me and I’ve had to rewrite it a couple of times before I was satisfied. But it’s still coming! But here’s a snippet of something new and a little bit darker coming your way soon.

-

“Tommy?” Eddie takes a deep breath and his chest sinks at once.

“Which hospital? How bad?” Tommy asks, already reaching for pants to pull on. He puts his phone on speaker and grabs a hoodie in lieu of a shirt, tugging it over his head.

“First Presbyterian. It’s not…it wasn’t work related.” There’s a stretch of silence and Tommy pauses, frowning. “Look, he doesn’t even know I’m calling you. But he’s not listening to any of us and he can’t keep doing this. He’s going to get himself killed.” Eddie blows out a harsh breath. “Get here.” He says before the line disconnects.

Tommy breaks a dozen traffic laws to get to the hospital, but he makes it in one piece. It’s surprisingly busy for this time of night and it takes a few minutes for a nurse to point him in the right direction, but eventually she sets him on his path. He takes the elevator and then strides down the hall to the room where Evan’s resting, slowing down as Eddie steps outside. His face is a storm cloud of emotion. Tommy steels himself, preparing to get chewed out or even receive a punch for his troubles, but Eddie only shakes his head and motions for him to keep up.

“What happened?” He asks, keeping his voice low as he follows Eddie further down the hall. He itches to see Evan, needs to know how bad the damage is, but he follows Eddie’s lead.

“Some asshole drugged him tonight and knocked him around pretty good. He’s concussed and they’re keeping him overnight because of what was in his system, they want to make sure it doesn’t have any adverse effects on his heart.” Eddie’s mouth thins in a flat line and Tommy’s stomach churns. “Bartender called me from his phone and said he was in bad shape and that he’d already called an ambulance.”

“Eddie…”

[pastelwitchling]

Continuation to chapter 146.

***

              Alex stretched along the length of his bed, moaning into the pillow. The heat of his blankets provided the most comfortable cocoon, especially with the storm continuing to rage outside. Alex cuddled deeper into the warmth, heaving a deep sigh as the rain pelted the windows and the wind howled. He loved storms. He loved the smell of rain still seeping into his space, stronger than ever.

              When he opened his eyes, he realized why.

              Alex narrowed his eyes, lifting his head inches off his pillow to look around the room before he looked back to Michael leaning against his doorway with his arms crossed. He was still wearing the sweats Alex had given him, and Alex thought he’d never looked more comfortable himself.

              “Why didn’t I hear you?”

              “You’re exhausted,” he said, and shrugged a shoulder. “And I’ve been here a while.”

              He frowned. “Doing what?”

              “Watching you sleep,” he said easily.

              Alex’s head fell back onto the pillow with a sigh. “Some might call that creepy, Guerin.”

              “With your damn military training,” he said, and the bed bounced as Michael plopped down by Alex’s foot, “I never get the chance.” He put a hand on Alex’s blanketed calf. “You’re always up before I am.”

              Alex clenched his jaw and moved his leg out from under Michael’s touch. “What time is it?”

              “Seven,” he said. “I would’ve let you keep sleeping, but you need to eat. C’mon, I made dinner.”

              He turned his face into his pillow. “You made dinner.”

              “Yeah, I’m a pretty good cook.”

              “I know,” Alex grumbled bitterly, “Maria told me all about it.”

              Silence fell heavily over their heads, and suddenly, the heat of Alex’s blankets and the smell of rain turned a little bit suffocating.

              “Come eat,” Michael said quietly. “I made your favorite.”

              He paused at Alex’s head, reached out to touch his hair, and paused with his fingers hovering just over the strands, as though waiting for permission. Alex turned away from his hand and sat up, reaching for his crutches as Michael stared at the empty space where Alex’s head had been before his hand fell limp to his side, and he plastered on the easy smile that fooled neither of them.

              “Roasted chicken and mashed potatoes,” he said. “Do I know you or what?”

              He followed Alex into the kitchen, the smell of spices and butter making Alex’s mouth water. He sat down in the same chair he’d been in since that morning when he’d given up on his work for the day and said he was going to take a nap, with the secret hope that Michael would leave while he was gone and that Alex wouldn’t have to watch him go.

              “This looks amazing,” he admitted, sliding onto a stool. Laid out before him were platters filled with roasted chicken drumsticks, mashed potatoes, homemade gravy, freshly-baked bread rolls with huge slabs of salted butter, and sautéed vegetables. In no time at all, Michael filled a plate for him. “How long have you been doing this?”

              “Not long,” he said, sliding into his chair across from him. Alex tried not to think of that being his seat. “Things move a lot faster when you can move things with your mind.”

              “You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble,” he murmured. “I have frozen pizzas.”

              He felt Michael’s eyes on him. “I wanted to cook for you.” He smirked. “It’s not like I get the chance to do this a lot either. Why? Want to kick me out into the cold already?”

              Alex fought the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I didn’t say that. I just don’t want you to bother yourself.”

              Michael’s smile dimmed, and something in his eyes sharpened. “You’re not a bother, Alex. You never have been.”

              This time, it was Alex who’d pretended he hadn’t heard. He instead busied himself with piling a piece of chicken and some mashed potato onto his fork, coated in gravy, and moaned around the mouthful.

              “Marry me,” he said, without thinking.

              “Yes,” Michael said, looking like he’d done nothing but think about it, but his eyes were twinkling and his smile looked so pleased and genuine that Alex could only blush as he piled more food onto his fork. When he went for seconds, Michael looked like his lifelong dream had been fulfilled.

              By the time dinner was over, the storm had raged even harder and Alex had insisted on doing the dishes while Michael went about lighting candles all over the house. “Safer than electricity right now.”

              When he was finished, Alex’s room was cast in candlelight and shadows, and Michael leaned a hip against the sink as Alex finished drying the plates and putting everything away. He tilted his head and smiled. “Now what?”

              Alex hummed, looking around. “I don’t really know.” He checked the time and found it was near eleven. “I usually go to sleep around now, but I just woke up.”

              “Wanna watch a movie?” he offered, and Alex sighed, taking another look out the window. The storm was stronger than ever, there was no way he was letting Michael go back in this. It wasn’t like he was encouraging bad behavior or anything, Michael wasn’t safe heading back in this mess. Alex was being responsible, subtly protecting the man he loved.

              He might as well enjoy the few hours they had together.

              “Sure. What are you in the mood for?”

              Michael smirked and took a step closer. “How about a romance?”

              “How about an action film?” Alex deadpanned, and Michael’s smile widened.

              “Nervous about watching romances with me, Private?”

              Alex pursed his lips in an effort not to smile, and this time he was sure he failed. “Get the damn TV on.”

              An hour and a half later found Alex and Michael seated on opposites sides of Alex’s couch, Alex’s head on the throw pillow between them. At some point, Michael’s hand fell onto his head, idly playing with his hair.

              “I thought you weren’t sleepy?”

              Alex mumbled incoherently, his eyes fluttering to the soothing feeling of Michael’s fingers between his strands. Michael chuckled low under his breath, brushing Alex’s hair back from his forehead. He felt a blanket levitate itself up his body and settle under his chin as the Avengers’ theme music played in the background.

              He was drifting off, he knew he was drifting off and something told him that this time, Michael really would be gone when he woke up. Michael’s hand fell to his waist, fixing the blanket where it had started to slip off, and—caught somewhere between reality and dreams, between a place where he woke up alone and had nothing but rain as company, and a place where the smirking, snarky, beautiful, wonderful cowboy he loved with every fiber of his being and soul sat across from him and they ate together and watched movies every night—Alex caught his hand.

              He said something near-silent to his own ears, but which he felt with every part of his being. He had no idea if Michael heard it or not, because before Michael could react, Alex was drifting off, dreaming of the same thing that he’d asked Michael for.

              Dreaming of Michael staying.

              Alex woke in the middle of the night, too comfortable to ever move again. It took him seconds to realize that he wasn’t lying on the couch anymore, but curled up on Michael’s chest, between his legs. Michael’s arms were loosely wrapped around Alex’s shoulders, the rest of Alex covered in the thick duvet from his bed. His face felt warm, every inch of him heated so perfectly that he had trouble believing this wasn’t their usual life.

              Here, together.

              Feeling truly restful for the first time in forever, Alex snuggled deeper into Michael’s body, the tip of his nose pressed to the hollow of his collarbone, and breathed him in his as he fell asleep.

              He woke again to the feeling of Michael’s hands in his hair, brushing the strands from his brow, rubbing up and down his spine. His eyes fluttered, even as his body melted deeper into Michael’s, and it took him a second to remember where he was. He groaned, dropping his head onto Michael’s chest, eyes shut and face heated for reasons that had nothing to do with the blankets.

              “Don’t say anything.”

              “I didn’t,” Michael whispered against Alex’s crown, but Alex could feel his smile.

              He squirmed. “Stop smelling me.”

              Michae chuckled. “Okay.”

              A pause. “Seriously, stop it.”

              He burst into laughter and thoughtlessly ran a hand down Alex’s back and up again, leaving goosebumps in his wake and making Alex shiver. “I’m not the one that squeezed you in the middle of the night, am I?”

              “Please,” he groaned, pushing his face into Michael’s chest to rub it, trying to properly wake himself up. “I don’t for a second believe you didn’t move me.”

              “I may have strategically slid underneath you,” Michael said shamelessly, digging his fingers into Alex’s shoulder blades and massaging him in a way Alex refused to admit felt good. “You clung on all by yourself.”

              “Oh gee, when you put it like that,” Alex mumbled, trying not to moan at the feeling of Michael’s hands on him, “it puts everything in perspective.”

              Michael hummed, and again, Alex could hear his smile. The kind that unfurled slowly and lazily, the kind that looked easy and like it was coming from Michael’s very core, the kind that made Alex’s toes curl and his heart hammer in his throat.

              “Does this feel good?” he asked, his hot breath against the shell of Alex’s ear as he continued to massage lower, his voice like gravel and sending electricity down Alex’s spine. “You like the way my hands feel on you?”

              Alex opened his eyes, inhaling sharply, and the world—which had started to sound muffled compared to Michael’s deep timbre—came back into clear and sudden focus, and he pushed himself up with a clear of his throat. He avoided Michael’s gaze, yet he could see Michael’s smile dim out of the corner of his eye. And still, he wouldn’t let Alex go. The tips of his fingers hung onto Alex’s shoulders, his arms stretched out, and instead of falling away, he followed Alex up so that he was still touching him.

              Alex swallowed, casually leaning further back until Michael’s hands slid off, and pushed himself off the couch. “What time is it?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

              For a moment, Michael didn’t answer. Then, “Almost eight.”

              Alex stumbled as he whipped around, wide-eyed. He caught himself on the coffee table, but Michael was already on his feet, catching him with a hand on his waist. Alex ignored the warmth of his touch and how close he was in favor of checking his phone screen for the time. Michael was right; it was almost eight.

              “The hell . . .?”  He rubbed the back of his head. “Did I take a hit or something?”

              “Weirded me out, too,” Michael murmured, his voice unusually quiet, and when Alex looked up, he realized why. They were mere inches apart, and any semblance of humor on Michael’s face was gone as he searched Alex’s face as though trying to reacquaint himself with constellations he’d always known.

              “Waking up before you did for once,” he said, his eyes darkening the longer he traced the small moles on Alex’s neck, his stubble, the tips of his hair now too long and falling over Alex’s eyes. He used the hand not on Alex’s waist to brush the strands back. “Made me realize I’ve never seen you sleep. You looked . . .” he exhaled shakily, eyes shutting tight with the force of his feelings as he pressed their foreheads together hard enough to bruise. “Like even while you were dreaming, you trusted me to keep you safe. Like you couldn’t have wanted anything when you woke up but having me there.”

              “Guerin—”

              “I know,” Michael breathed, arm tightening around Alex’s waist and pressing their bodies together. “I know, Alex, I know I know I know.” He hissed through gritted teeth. “I know it hurts, I know I scare you, I know it’s hard, I just . . . let me hold you a little longer. For now, I’ll settle for that much, Alex. Please.”

              Alex didn’t move for a long time, resisting the urge to shudder as Michael cuddled deeper into the crook of his neck, like he was trying to absorb him. Then, slowly, he raised his arms and carefully caught his wrist with his other hand at Michael’s back, gently hugging his waist. Michael inhaled deeply, and buried himself deeper into Alex, and Alex dared to tightened his hold a little, hugging Michael back. They stayed there in the middle of Alex’s living room for what felt like hours or days or years, just holding each other, Michael keeping a firm and steady arm on Alex’s waist, taking on most of his weight so that Alex wouldn’t get tired standing on one leg.

              Michael seemed to have no intention of letting Alex go, his breaths deepening as though he would’ve been perfectly content to just fall asleep, standing right there. His hands on Alex were like furnaces, and Alex tried not to let his eyes flutter at the warmth, but it happened. His focus lapsed for just a second, but it was a second too long. He got too comfortable, his head too drowsy, his body too lax that his knee buckled for the briefest moment. Michael held him tighter to steady him, and started to move away.

              Alex swallowed the objection in his throat, but it only lasted the length it took Michael to bend down and hook an arm under Alex’s knees.

              “Whoa—Guerin!”

              “I got you, hang on,” Michael chuckled under his breath as he carried Alex into—Alex blushed at the realization—his bedroom. He set him down gently on the bed, the mattress dipping under his knee as he hovered over Alex, massaging his thigh and making Alex gasp.

              “S-Stop, I’m—I’m fine,” Alex tried. What was wrong with him? Why was he stammering?

              Michael’s lips quirked into the barest smirk, amused, as he continued to rub into Alex’s thigh with such attention, and it did not help with his blushing. “I know,” he said, “but you kept moving your leg even while you slept. I wanted to rub you down all night, but I didn’t want to wake you. You just reminded me.”

              Rub me down? Alex’s heart thrashed at the thought . . . until his mind caught the other part of Michael’s sentence.

              “All night? What do you mean, weren’t you asleep?”

              Michael’s fingers slowed for just a moment, his smirk dimming to something soft and guilty and embarrassed and shy. Quietly, he confessed, “I couldn’t sleep at all. I kept worrying that . . . if I slept, I’d find out all of this had been a dream. Couldn’t stand it.”

              He said the last part with half a shrug, as though he wasn’t affected, but Alex could feel the slight tremble of Michael’s fingers on his thigh, the way he dug in a little harder, held on with every press of his hands as though making sure Alex couldn’t push him away.

              Alex stared, but Michael seemed unwilling to look at him this time, focusing intently on massaging Alex’s thigh. Alex knew that kind of focused determination, knew what it looked like when Michael was panicking on the inside that he’d said or done something wrong, knew what it looked like when he was afraid of meeting Alex’s eyes because he’d just hit him with a remark he knew was cutting.

              In the past, Michael had always been trying to push Alex away, unwilling to look at him afterwards because he’d been unwilling to see the betrayal and hurt Alex never managed to hide. Not from him. This time, it seemed Michael had frightened himself by accident.

              Alex caught his wrist, halting him from any more rubbing. He saw Michael swallow, hard. Bracing himself.

              “Sit down next to me,” Alex found himself saying, unable to regret the words. Not as Michael’s eyes widened ever so slightly, the hope unmistakable in his sharp, soft inhale.

              Alex half-expected him to say, “Really?” or ask if Alex was sure, but thankfully, he seemed just as aware of the fragile trust as Alex was, and without a moment’s pause, slid onto the bed without taking his eyes off Alex, sitting against the pillows, their thighs pressed together.

              They sat there like that for a long time; the rain still pouring outside; thunder rumbling softly and echoing around the bedroom; nothing but the soft sound of Michael’s hand on Alex’s thigh, thoughtlessly (or maybe very intentionally) now feeling the muscle as though unable to pull away.

              “I like this,” Michael said quietly into the small space between their mouths.

              Alex’s eyes fell to Michael’s lips briefly before he finally settled his head on Michael’s shoulder, settling in for a long, quiet morning.

              “Me, too.”

              They both drifted off, which meant that eventually, they both woke up to find themselves facing each other. At some point, Alex had been laid down. As it was Michael’s arms tight around him, his own hands on Michael’s chest, he had a feeling he knew what had happened.

              “You really like me sleeping on you,” he said into Michael’s shoulder. Michael’s eyes, half-lidded, darkened, and his smile stretched, lazy and alluring.

              “I really do,” he said shamelessly, his voice deep and amused.

              “You’re not even going to try to deny it?”

              “I like touching you,” Michael said, his hand slowly going up and down Alex’s back, lowering further down with every stroke. “Is that shocking?”

              Alex licked his lips. “No,” he said, “it’s not.”

              Michael’s eyes had followed Alex’s tongue, and they stuck there now. The amusement on his face vanished, turning hungrier. “I like touching you more than anyone. I’ve never wanted to touch anyone the way I’ve wanted to touch you.”

              “Michael,” Alex warned, or tried to, but it came out sounding more like a whine. He couldn’t help it. Michael was too damn close. He’d been too damn close for longer than either of them have ever been, and it was messing with Alex’s head. Still, he only wanted to get closer.

              Michael’s hand slid lower, his pupils expanding to swallow the green that Alex loved as he leaned in closer, closer. The tips of his fingers inched beneath Alex’s waistband, feeling the dip just above Alex’s ass cheek. Michael’s eyes shut like he’d found the treasure he’d spent his whole life searching for, breathing out a curse against Alex’s mouth. Alex swallowed thickly, the heat climbing his neck and rapidly turning his face red. Michael’s grin returned, eager and happier than Alex had seen him in too long.

              “I love how easily you blush,” he breathed. “Hottest thing ever. I’ve jacked off so many nights to just the thought of how sensitive your body is.”

              “Michael—”

              Michael’s breathing was turning rapid and shallow, pressing their foreheads together, one foot reaching out to Alex’s left, rubbing their toes together. Meanwhile his hand was reaching lower, down to the back of Alex’s thigh and up again, clutching his ass cheek and pulling at it.

              “Imagined how easy it is to get you hard,” he laughed, breathless, lost in the memories of their heated nights together. “A few touches . . . a few dirty words,” his eyes opened only halfway, completely swallowed by his pupils as he watched Alex with heat and sheer adoration. “That’s all it over took.” His eyes drifted down to the bulge between Alex’s legs. “That’s all it ever takes.”

              “Because it’s you,” Alex whispered before he could help himself, and couldn’t regret it. “Because it’s your hands and your mouth and your dirty words, Michael. It’s you, jackass, of course I’m easy.”

              Michael looked momentarily stunned, his expression one of wonder and hope and fear—fear that what he was seeing, what he was hearing, was all a dream. It was that look that made Alex reach out, had him hooking his fingers into the front of Michael’s borrowed sweats, moaning at the feeling of the sweaty, wiry hair there.

              That sound seemed to reverberate through Michael’s body, and he shuddered, moving closer. “Baby,” he groaned, slinging his leg over Alex’s thighs, keeping just enough distance between their hips for Alex to keep his hand between his legs. Michael’s own hand came around Alex’s front, his open mouth brushed Alex’s own, the two breathing each other’s air. When they took each other in hand, they groaned loudly, but Alex was already stroking him from tip to root, the hard, wet heat of him.

              “This isn’t happening,” Michael cursed, eyes closed, heart hammering. “This isn’t happening . . . this is too good . . .”

              Alex pushed his free hand into Michael’s curls, gripping at the root and pulling hard, anchoring him, keeping him there with him.

              “Touch me,” he begged, trying to show Michael that it was real, they were here, together. “I need you, Michael. Please, touch me harder.”

              “Yes,” Michael’s jaw hung open, “yes, yes . . .”

              There was nothing but the sound of wet skin slapping together in the otherwise quiet room, Alex and Michael’s muffled grunting and moaning into each other’s mouths. In no time at all, their clothes were discarded, Alex’s legs around Michael’s hips as he drove into him over and over, their bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Michael’s hands on Alex’s ass, lifting his hips higher as he rolled his hips, thrusting his hard length into him. Alex’s hands roamed Michael’s hairy chest, rubbing his palms over Michael’s nipples.

              The day wore on and, with it, Michael and Alex’s hunger for each other. Michael took Alex from behind, keeping his hips up as he drove into him, leaving him to come untouched. Then Michael had Alex bent over the edge of the bed, groaning into the nape of his neck as he thrust into him like a beast. If Alex had suspected that Michael had been satisfying himself with someone else during their time apart, it was dispelled with the way Michael held him; like he couldn’t physically let go. He felt like a starving man who hadn’t had a bite to eat in centuries and was finally having his fill.

              He had one hand on Alex’s ass cheek, the other at his hip, his powers keeping Alex steady on his hips as he rode him. Michael’s head hung back, his strong neck on full display.

              “C’mere,” he urged, his hands on the trail of hair leading down Michael’s naval, rolling his hips and taking Michael to the hilt before rising again. “I want to kiss you.”

              Michael complied, pushing up at once as though he’d been waiting for permission, and caught Alex’s mouth in an openmouthed kiss, tilting his head and deepening it with every press of their mouths. He thrust up with every kiss, leaving Alex whimpering, the bed creaking. It seemed unreal that it ever ended, that they both came with enough force that their bodies simply refused to work afterwards.

              “I’m dreaming,” Michael said afterwards, when Alex’s head was on his chest and he was wrapped tightly in Michael’s arms. “M’dreaming, I’ve gotta be dreaming.” A pause, then Michael cursed, “I hope I don’t wake up, I never wanna wake up.”

              Alex couldn’t help it. He smiled against Michael’s nipple, pressing an openmouthed kiss there. Michael’s gasp was almost inaudible, and he shuddered, pulling Alex closer. It was impossible. Alex was already almost halfway on top of him, but it never seemed close enough for Michael.

              “Closer,” Michael squirmed, still panting hard. “I need you closer.”

              “I’m as close as I can get,” Alex chuckled, and Michael groaned in complaint, still trying to pull Alex on top of him, his legs bracketing Alex’s. “Guerin, you won’t be able to breathe!”

              “I don’t need to breathe,” he said, wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulders, the other around his hips, grasping an ass cheek and keeping their hips pressed together. “I just need you closer.”

              Alex’s smile softened as he rested his chin on Michael’s chest and looked up at him. Michael was watching him right back, memorizing every inch of Alex’s naked skin, his face, his eyes. Alex couldn’t help but memorize him, too, so in love with every part of him. His stubble, his strong nose, his plump lips, and his eyes that turned the color of honey when the sun hits them just right . . .

              The sun. That’s when it hit him; it had stopped raining.

              Michael seemed to realize the same thing, the unspoken agreement between them that whatever this was—whatever they were allowing themselves—would end the moment the storm did. Alex felt Michael’s panic in the way his heart raced against him before he saw Michael’s breathing turn even faster.

              “N-Not yet,” Michael said, begged, his hands scrambling over Alex, trying to hold on. “Not yet, not yet . . . please, Alex.”

              Alex swallowed. He hated this fear Michael had, he hated it more than anything. He hated it in himself, but he hated it worse in the way it swallowed any peace and joy in his love’s eyes. He’d wanted, more than anything, for Michael to want him the way Alex wanted him, for Michael to love him in the same way. It only now occurred to Alex that Michael’s eyes never carried that happiness unless they were together. He wracked his memory for a moment of genuine joy he’d seen in Michael since Maria, and he couldn’t find it.

              They’d both suffered enough from their mistakes. How much longer was Alex going to punish them both?

              “Michael,” Alex leaned up on his elbow. Michael misinterpreted the tone, and shook his head, catching Alex around the waist and sitting up with him.

              “Just to the end of the week,” he whispered, urgent and desperate and trying not to panic and failing miserably. “Th-the day, just let me stay till then, let me make sure you have a real dinner, and . . . and . . .”

              Alex moved to straddle him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Michael’s breathing didn’t calm, clearly not knowing how to interpret this, but he clung to Alex, keeping them pressed together.

              “We’ve got time,” Alex said into the crook of his neck, cuddling deeper into him. “We’ve got all the time in the world, baby.” Michael tensed, and Alex stiffened. “U-Unless you . . . don’t want to stay—”

              “I want to stay,” he said at once, before Alex could even finish. “I want to stay here with you. I want to stay here forever, I want you to be my husband and to spend the rest of my life taking care of you. I want you to love me back, I want you to love me so much, I want you to love me as much as I love you. I want to be yours, and I want to stay right here, next to you, and I never, ever want to stop touching you. I can’t breathe if I’m not touching you, Alex, I can’t breathe without you.”

              Alex said nothing, his eyes burning.

              Michael’s hold on him tightened, his voice uncertain. “Alex?”

              Alex sniffled, and Michael straightened, squeezing him unbearably tight. “I do love you so much. I’ve always loved you so much. You’ve always been mine, Michael. No one else’s.”

              Michael said and did nothing for a long time, then slowly shook his head. Alex realized he wasn’t even kind of worried that he would be rejected. Sometime during the storm, it hit him how much he trusted Michael to be there. To want to be there.

              “M’dreaming,” Michael whispered, sounding dazed. Worse, as his grip turned bruising on Alex, his voice cracked. “I’ve gotta be dreaming. God, I hope I never wake up.”

              “I’m real, Michael,” Alex said, his eyes burning. “I’m right here. We’re right here, we’re together.” He clenched his jaw and buried his face in the crook of Michael’s neck, his voice muffled. “We should never have been separated in the first place. This is all my fault.”

              That seemed to wake Michael up, and he leaned back just far enough to take Alex’s face in his hands. “Don’t you dare,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. I know what I did, Alex, I know I betrayed you, I know I almost killed you. Don’t pretend you’re the only one who ran, don’t you think for half a second that I didn’t shatter all of your trust in me because I swear, I am going to spend the rest of my life earning all of it back.”

              Alex’s lower lip trembled, stunned. “M-Michael . . .”

              Michael’s expression was pained as his thumb brushed Alex’s cheek, wiping away a tear he hadn’t even realized had fallen. His smirk was small and self-deprecating, and he whispered, “I really screwed up. I never thought I would, not with you. I always knew I’d mess everything up with everyone else, but never with you. You were supposed to stay safe.”

              Alex covered Michael’s hands with his own, holding his gaze steady. “Michael,” he said, “do you love me?”

              “More than anything,” Michael breathed without missing a beat.

              “Do you want to stay with me?”

              “I’d do anything,” he swore. There was no question in his voice, his eyes. Even as his brain tried to tell him he didn’t deserve Alex, Michael’s instincts pushed him to keeping Alex regardless.

              “Then just stay,” Alex whispered, rested their foreheads together. “Stay with me. Please, just . . . let it go, Michael. Let’s let the bad go, okay? I just want to be with you, I just want you to stay, so please—”

              “I’ll stay,” he said at once, letting his arms fall to Alex’s waist and wrapping tightly around him. “I’ll stay now, I’ll stay forever, I’ll stay however long you’ll let me—no, that’s a lie, I’ll stay even if you tell me to leave.”

              Alex burst into weary laughter, simultaneously sad and afraid and hopeful and overjoyed and so, so overwhelmed with feelings. He’d always been so good at managing those with everyone else. Not with Michael. Not with his exception.

              “I’ve never wanted you to leave,” he said. “I’ve never wanted you to let me go.”

              “I’ve never let you go,” he promised. “And I never will, Alex. You’re mine. I’m never giving that up.”

              Alex curled in deeper, breathing him in. Maybe it was because he knew that he’d never need to endure the cold of another storm again, not when his favorite scent in the world was right here in his arms, but a pain in Alex’s chest that he’d lived with since he’d enlisted after high school finally, finally, faded. For the first time in too long to remember, Alex finally felt at peace.

              “Good,” he exhaled, settling deeper into his love’s embrace. “That’s good.”

[chiveoil]

for me what works best is knowing that i can’t form habits in a way that is automatic, like i can’t just do things in the same way every day without thinking about it, i think that is a pretty big feature of adhd and i’d be setting myself up for failure and feeling bad about myself if i saw that as the goal. but what i can do is check off things i want to do daily on a list.

for a while i’ve using a notebook/bullet journal type system for this, writing myself lists and checking items off as i go every day. i have 15 things on this list, but the only actual ‘habit’ i have really managed to form is ‘open my bullet journal throughout the day’, which i achieve by keeping it within arms reach pretty much at all times. when i tick one thing off the list, i look at the next thing, and i’m reminded to do it as well.

the actual things i put on the list are things i have learned over the course of several years that i need to do daily in order to stay generally okay (like: talk to someone i love, go for walks, eat regular meals) so it helps that these things are very important, if a lot of them were aspirational or unrealistic in some way then i doubt i would be bothering to track them once the initial burst of motivation wore off, but i have been doing this pretty consistently for years. for new habits that are stretches that i want to introduce, i add them to my list one at a time, or i add them to a similar list of things that i want to try do weekly or monthly. starting slow and keeping it within this framework is the only way to do it for me.

the pen and paper system i’ve been using for a little over a year, i used to use habitica for a few years before that. there are a few habit building apps that work like this and habitica is a really good option imo. it’s very geared to adhd in various ways and works very well without the paid features, it’s also available on desktop. potential downside that the fun rpg element of the app can be a bit confusing to get to grips with at first.

another thing that is important for me to know as a person with adhd is that no one ‘system’ of keeping track of my daily tasks will work forever, and i will have to be adaptable when it stops working. right now my notebook/bullet journal system works for me, in future i will have to try something else, but the basic system of ‘daily repeating to do list of things i absolutely do have to try to do every day or there will be really negative consequences for my life’ is how i do it and that will be the same whatever framework i put it in. example of another way to do this could be: a big whiteboard with the days of the week and you give yourself ticks or gold stars, put out somewhere you will see it and be reminded of the list.

tldr basically with adhd you need constant reminders and the way i do that is Daily Recurring To Do Lists.

Does any fellow adhder have any tips on how to form habits in adulthood? I’ve been trying to look online and everything that seems promising leads to a subscription to learn more

[brennan-lee-mother]

You ever think about how the Rat Grinders represent what the Bad Kids could have turned out to be if they hadn’t found each other freshman year?

Fig, the depressed rocker, all performance

Riz, the highstrung control freak who never found Penny

Fabian, the asshole jock who looks down on dancers

Gorgug, the uncommunicative loner

Kristen, the chosen

Adaine, the unwilling participant in her rich evil family’s plots

Because I do, and now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go scream into my pillow

[sysig]

Dr. “Has to get a good grade in therapy” Doran (Patreon)

[sureuncertainty]

ohhhh okay so the titanic sub news is actually affecting me more than i thought, that’s why i’ve felt angry and restless and depressed all day and woke up thinking about it and haven’t been able to successfully distract myself.

[chaddicus]

hey everybody I'm building a monster 😄

edit: god the original screenshot I posted was so much worse quality than I thought it was. here's an actual copy of the drawing instead lmao

bonus higher quality closeup of the face I accidentally saved separately somehow