#thinking back to how charming i found him when i started the anime i Needed to know what was hiding behind that charisma | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mcrdvcks · 4 days ago

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

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

word count: 8.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

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

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

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

series masterlist - chapter 5 → chapter 7

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

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

Normal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

You rounded a curve, smiling to yourself when—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Logan...

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But there was no warmth, no spark, nothing.

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

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

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

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

This wasn’t over.

umm... sorry??

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

next chapter will be x2!

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

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charmercharm3r · 5 months ago

Text

fated circles

HJS

Masterlist

wc: 3.3k

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, vampire!jisung x afab vampire!reader, mentions of blood, soul ties, mentions of death/dying, subpar world building that i don’t intend to elaborate on lol

☆ﾟ

He’s never been in love, he’s sure of it. He’s seen what love is and how people act when they’ve found someone capable of being loved. This was not that, it was never that. It’s something much more– in fact, calling it love would be an insult to each other’s very existence. What he feels is so far beyond, that he’s not entirely sure he’s even truly been alive until you.

Like most vampires, Jisung longed to find his mate. Unlike most, he didn’t bother searching. Instead, he sat and waited, the logic being that if both of you were searching then you’d be chasing each other in circles, it was better to stay put. And hell– it worked.

The day you found him was like his heart was beating for the first time in forever. Jisung wished it could’ve been under better circumstances, meaning he wished he wasn’t hunched over like an animal and covered in blood. It wasn’t even the good kind of blood, that of an alcoholic he found passed out behind a bar. The ring on the man’s finger told him everything he needed to know and decided that this would be dinner.

Jisung could smell you before he could see you, your scent alone making him pull away from his meal to see the figure standing at the end of the alley– the light at the end of his cold, dark tunnel. Your hand was on your hip and a tilt of your head, already preparing to start scolding him on his eating habits. The thud of the drained body onto the pavement, less than a second to stand in front of you, the putrid stench of the tainted blood across his lips mixed with his saliva, you were sold.

“You’re making a mess,” you had told him, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on the corners of your lips.

“Then help me clean it up.” He’d thought it was charming at the time.

“Do I look like your maid?” You’d said as you raised your hand to his cheek, barely grazing his skin and his head leaning into it. The blood smelled nowhere near appetizing, sort of revolting, but you pressed your thumb to his bottom lip anyways, collecting some before gently pushing it forward without any necessary force. Jisung had let you in with no fight and fought the urge to moan at the weight of your finger on his tongue.

When you pulled away, his teeth lightly scraping your skin in resistance, “no… but you actually kinda look like everything I’ve been waiting for.”

“Still can’t believe that line actually worked on you,” he reminisced on the moment, lying comfortably still beneath you.

Not that he could see, you rolled your eyes, “didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

Jisung laughed his ever so melodic laugh and held you tighter to his chest, “sorry, I don’t make the rules. You should consult with whoever wrote the vampire handbook.”

You sat up then, straddling either side of his slim waist and palms firmly planted on his chest. Jisung readjusted the pillow under his head and kept his hands there, gazing up at you with the fondest of eyes. It always mesmerized you how prettily they sparkled even in the dimmest light. “Your hair’s getting longer,” not thinking about it, you reach to brush the strand back from his face, tugging at the roots.

“That’s not what you wanna talk about.” Jisung’s hands reassuringly caressed your thighs.

“I always wanna talk about you.”

“And I love that. But ask me what you wanna ask me.”

Playing with his hair a little while longer, you let the courage build up to what it was you truly wanted to say. He let you use him like a stress ball, kneading and toying while taking all of the affection gratefully. “Do you ever wonder where we came from?”

“I don't remember the name of the hospital I was born at, but it was in Incheon–”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” His cheeky smile fell just a little as he relaxed further into your touch. All of his features softened as he read what he could from your troubled expression.

Jisung sighed, “I do wonder. I wonder what I would’ve looked like with gray hair, sulk for a little, then I thank whoever created us for letting me live long enough to find you.”

“I found you, remember?” You squished his cheeks in both your hands.

“And it took you long enough,” he replied with puckered lips. It was cute, you indulged him and softly met his skin with a gentle touch. How warm he was, only due to the ascending sun beaming through the window to heat his otherwise cold skin. Jisung sighed, holding you in place by the back of your neck to feel your contrast in temperature.

A slight twitch beneath your groin made you smile into the kiss, “I didn’t even do anything,” you tease against his lips.

“Do you have to?” Jisung giggled, playfully rolling you over to hover above your body.

He pulled away and did nothing but stare. Deeply, longingly, so full of sentiment that he was sure even the richest, sweetest blood in the world couldn’t make him feel this type of euphoria. You let go of his hair to trace a finger across his cheek, then thumb at his bottom lip the same way you did the first time you’d met. No intention other than to feel close to him, you dip your thumb into his mouth and swipe it over his tongue. Jisung closed his lips around the digit and watched the way your eyes darkened, though not necessarily with the lust he’s used to. There was something else you wanted to talk about, hoping to find it on the tip of his tongue.

Jisung hummed with encouragement, he knew you were doing this to keep him from speaking so you could voice your mind freely. “It’ll be one of us, sooner or later.”

Ah, that’s what this is.

“A hunter, a vengeful witch, some freak accident knowing you–”

“With’es ‘re ec’thinct,” he mumbled.

Pressing harder onto his tongue, “you don’t know that.” Jisung watched your eyebrows knit together for a split second before speaking again. “I’m just– I don’t know what I’d do… if I lost you.”

Slowly, he took your hand from his mouth and threaded it through his hair again, “they’d have to pry my undead body from yours arms if they plan to take me from you.” Jisung could see the anguish in your eyes at the mere thought of him being gone as he rolled you over, unable to fight the sadness from taking over.

“I’d rather die first.” As if all the air was stolen from his lungs, Jisung felt his paperweight heart squeeze like you’d stuck your hand in his chest in a lame attempt to resuscitate it. “I don’t want to know what it’s like to live without you.”

For the first time since you’d found him, he was at a loss for words– because he understood. He understood the hurt behind the fake scenario he knew was playing out in your head, as he felt the same way. He trailed the hand keeping yours in his hair down, brushing away the locks that covered your neck. As he dipped down to nibble at the supple skin, Jisung felt the wetness that fell. He kissed that away, too, all the way back up to your lips. There was no rush in the kiss, no urgency or carnality that usually fueled him. Rather, he wanted to revel in the electricity that never seemed to dim, letting it flow throughout his entire body and burned it into his memory. God, he loves your lips.

He mindlessly swiped away the remaining tears, a gentle reminder that he was here, and by no means other than an act of whatever god is out there, was he going to leave.

You, to put it simply, wanted to crawl into his ribcage and wear him like a shield. You wanted to be so close to him that your bodies fused and became one, never separating. Even the clothes you wore now felt like too much of a barrier, all but tearing his shirt by the back of the neck and tossing it aside. You couldn’t be mad when he did the same to you, then with your panties and his shorts until there was nothing but skin keeping your still hearts apart.

Jisung wanted so badly to worship you when he felt your hips bucking up into his thigh with a slick coating. And although you would never deny him the pleasure of sending you to see god herself with just his mouth, that wasn’t what you needed right now. Quick work of his fingers, you were whining and clawing from his scalp down his back, there would’ve been marks if that was possible. A pop of his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste, you wrapped your legs around his waist to move him along. He was trying to draw it out, make you slow down and appreciate the moment. Though they weren’t fleeting– thanks, immortality– they were precious, every single one. The many, many times he’s had you like this are all his favorites, genuinely unable to choose just one.

“Be with me,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours and unmoving. You pouted, chest hiccuping with need. “Just be with me right now.” As much as you wanted him, you knew what he meant.

To be loved is to be seen, to be understood, to be known and heard and changed. “I’m here,” barely a hair’s breadth of a whisper.

“You are, my loveliest. And I am, too.” Jisung kissed you again, a little more heat behind it now as he reached between your bodies to finally connect.

The first push of him past your entrance is always relieving, yet spiraling as it makes you want more in an instant. Deep groans emit from both of you into the kiss, though Jisung doesn’t move once fully inside. He lets the warmth of your cunt radiate throughout his body and then some. “You’re here,” he mumbles once, and then again as his lips fall to your cheek. He doesn’t say it for himself, but for your sake. It’s grounding, the simple words, like because it’s coming from his mouth that it makes it true.

And when his teeth rakes over where your pulse should be, your body tenses up with a shiver.

Oh, fuck being in the moment– you are the moment, and he’s inside you. There’s quite literally not a single thing that could compare.

Jisung sinks his canines into your neck, trying to keep from baring his fangs with excitement. “If you don’t move right now–”

You don’t get to finish threatening him before his hips are slowly pulling back and pushing in, slick sounding from your bodies with each slide. Your arms are wrapped tight over his shoulders, pressing him chest to chest as he attempts to keep himself in check by treating your neck like a chew toy. Not that you mind, the pain mixed with the pleasure is a gentle reminder that he’s the only one that could ever hurt you, the power he has over you.

He’s not timid, nor is he rough, though thrusting as though he wants to feel himself in your stomach. And he does, it drives him insane, taking a second from your throat to glare down at where he’s poking through your belly with each glide. It makes his eyes roll back and momentarily stutter. You use it to your advantage, throwing him to the side and frantically mounting him again.

The quick slide of your pussy down onto him had Jisung involuntarily bucking upwards, seeing the head of his cock so subtly bulge again. He almost came on the spot, if he’s being honest with himself. But you didn’t give him the chance to so much as catch his metaphorical breath when you began to grind yourself forward and back, swiveling your hips with a new kind of heat.

In a way, Jisung was a little embarrassed that you overpowered him so easily, though not at all surprised. You took from him what he refused to give you, and it turned him on beyond belief. But it also made him want to prove himself that much more– not that he necessarily needed to. The grip he had on your hips now, you knew what he wanted to do.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you warned, and an audible whimper left him. You couldn’t help a laugh because he was so damn cute looking at you like you’d hung the stars for him. Without the human feature of exhaustion, you went to town on top of him, moving your hips in circles for a bit before ultimately leaning forward and slicking your hips up and down. Jisung met your lips halfway to tangle his fingers in your hair and hold you captive. That was, until he thought it was time for a position change.

Although you were physically stronger than him, you were at your weakest when he was kissing you, too in love with the feeling to focus clearly. Jisung caught you off guard, flipping your bodies again and tossing you into the pillows with a yelp. “Quit fucking around,” his timbre dropped, towering over you again with a sharper aura.

Jisung handled you into a position he knew you couldn’t get out of, on your side with your leg hitched in the air by his hold. He didn’t wait to plunge back into your wet cunt, picking up speed as he decided to instead press your top leg into the bed and expose you even more. You could do nothing but claw at his arms and chest, crying out as he hit deeper parts of you.

“You were so assertive before, baby. What happened?” He teased with a smirk. “You get a kiss and a dick in you and forget how to act.”

He wasn’t totally wrong, but you couldn’t use your brain even if you tried. Not that he was doing anything particularly special in terms of how he was fucking you– though it was still good as hell– you weren’t in the right state of mind since before you started. You were silently needy; physically, emotionally, mentally on every plane of existence, unable to put it into words. When domination fails, you succumb to being fucked the princess you are.

Jisung pressed his pelvis hard into your ass, kissing you gently whilst pinning your arms above your head. “Don’t you feel that, lovely?” His free hand trickled to your belly, pressing and nudging himself deeper into you. The whimper that escaped was enough for him to keep talking. “I don’t think we could be any closer,” he slid his hand higher to wrap around your throat, “don’t you feel me here, too? Is that why you can’t speak?” Your attempt to nod was endearing, kissing you again as he squeezed.

“Oh, I love when you’re in love. You do love me, right?” You nodded weakly. “No, no. You’re going to say, ‘I love you.’ Okay?”

Jisung pinched your cheeks together in his palm, lips puckering when you tried to speak, “love you so much, Sungie.” That answer appeased him, kissing you abruptly before shoving your face into the pillows.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ do.”

He leaned back, putting all his weight on his palms that caged your upper body against the mattress. Jisung kept one knee pinning your top leg to the bed and snapped his hips faster, harder, his version of mercy being that your hands were now free to grab him however you pleased. Did you ever need to, with the way you were almost being tossed up the bed from the force. His cock hit places that never failed to make you squeal and drool in ecstasy.

Prodding at a rather tender spot inside you, your walls clenched extra tightly around him, making Jisung’s upper body strength crumble. “Ah– fuck, fucking love you, too. Love you so much. Love this pussy,” his teeth found a home against your neck again, this time unable to fight the urge to sink his fangs into the flesh.

If you weren’t close before, you sure as hell were now. He scraped the sharpness over your delicate skin, letting goosebumps rise and your moans grow louder until you were begging for him to sink them into you. To claim you in a way that was reserved for only the most devoted of your species.

“Do it,” you pleaded with tears in your eyes, “for forever.”

Your reminder of how permanent this action was excited him, made him more desperate and more carnal than ever before. Drinking your blood was a sacred act that binds you together, the red string becoming a red knot made of a supernaturally unbreakable force. He dies, you die, and vice versa. Just the way you both wanted.

“Can’t live without you,” your voice, broken but truthful, he couldn’t deny you any longer.

“Won’t live without you,” Jisung corrected, and let himself divulge in the red taste of you.

Is this what heaven feels like? Warmth, safety, ardor, you felt every part of your being sync with his as your head began to feel light, body being overcome with a tidal wave of euphoria. The blinding white light behind your eyes faded, then there was Jisung. In every corner of your mind, every fiber of your body, he was there. What seemed like a vision of his hands reaching out for yours, tangled in the notorious red string. It was quiet, but something urged you to reach out to him and intertwine. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew it was him. So wonderfully strange, everything that was once a burden became insignificant as soon as your hands connected. What was once two separate beings became one, tied by the wrist.

Your eyes finally opened after what seemed like centuries. He was already looking down at you with pure adoration, stroking your cheek softly, just as out of false breath as you were. “I didn’t think you could be any more beautiful. I’m so glad to be wrong.”

“Why didn’t we ever do that before?” Jisung kissed your forehead, falling to the side without pulling out as he pondered your question.

“Honestly, I thought it was a load of shit– the whole soul-binding thing,” he held you tight against his chest, tucking your head under his chin as he massaged around the tender mark on your neck.

“So you felt it.”

“Fuck, did I feel it? I swear I saw us from some fuckin’ omniscient point of view. And can I say, we should do porn ‘cus we look good as hell.”

“Wait, what?” He had an entirely different experience, still supernatural, nonetheless. “You actually– what?”

“I’m serious,” Jisung peered down at you, not a single joking tone. “Like, time stopped. Or froze, I don’t know. It was a weird limbo thing, I don’t remember a lot of it. I bit you, then there we were… y’know. And there was something tied around my hands. I wasn’t really thinking– or my hands were moving by themselves. A– and you were there. I mean, I couldn’t see you, but I knew it was you.”

His words left you stunned, so different yet the same. You wished you could’ve seen what he did, but the indescribable sensation of his soul finding yours is irreplaceable. That’s how you explained it to him. Jisung was always bringing up how you’d first met, and you’d always say that you found him first. Except, he stayed still, waiting for you to make your way to his side of the circle.

The after effects of the intense moment left you mentally tired. Although you can’t sleep, you can close your eyes and let the comfort of Jisung’s arms soothe your lethargic mind. “Won’t live without you,” voice muffled by the skin of his chest.

“Well, now you really can’t, my loveliest.”

☆ﾟ

A/N: phew hi there. apologies for the silence. life. also, gonna be making an account for enhypen soon! so stay tuned for thatttttttt. probably gonna be mostly the hyung line, but im still deciding how i want that to actually go cus ngl i didnt rly plan anything out lol. anyway if ur reading this thank u! i appreciate u!

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souliebird · 1 year ago

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 11]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Words: 4.3k

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

You are folding laundry when Minnie gets up and starts waddling towards you, dragging Scooby behind her. You tell yourself you cannot be jealous of a stuffed animal, but Pig was what you gave her in the hospital, and you want him to be the favorite. But Scooby is really soft, so you'll admit defeat.

She comes up to your bed and climbs up. She crawls to the middle, then sits, laying Scooby beside her, “Hi, Mommy.”

You smile down at her, curious what type of visit this will be, “Hi, sweetie.”

She grabs one of her shirts from the pile of clothes and begins to try and fold it, making you huff in laughter. You let her help because she is making it into a square and that's all you really need. She purses her lips and you wait for whatever question you know is coming.

“Where is your Mommy?”

That slams into you in a way you do not expect and you have to clear your throat before answering, “Mommy’s…mommy and um…daddy, your grandparents, aren't alive anymore. They died a long time ago.”

Minnie takes this in, lips still pursed. She grabs another shirt and starts to fold it carefully. You wonder where this is coming from - you knew it would come eventually but you are curious about the trigger. But you aren't going to push. You want her to be able to come to you with these and any questions.

After about a minute, she gets up and crawls to you, reaching out to be held. You quickly scoop her up.

“Did my Daddy die, too?”

Oh, this is it then. You've practiced this speech in your head a million times, you just didn't think it would be so soon.

You turn so you can sit on the bed and set your daughter on your lap, tucking some hair behind her ear as you speak, “No, he didn't die. I just lost him for a little while.”

Minnie screws up her nose and you don't know if it's from confusion or from judgment, “you lost him?”

You nod, offering her a soft sad smile, “I lost him. You know how sometimes, when we go to the park, you meet other kids and spend all day playing together, but then you don't see them again for a long time?” She nods and you continue on, “You just lost them for a bit. They aren't gone - you just don't know where they are and eventually, they will find their way back to you. That is what happened to your Daddy and I. We were at the same place and became friends, but then we lost each other.”

Mouse puts her fist into her mouth, and you know she's thinking hard. You hope she understands. You've read so many different forums and articles on the subject and just want to tell your daughter the truth in a way she computes.

Finally, she looks up at you, dragging her fingers out of her mouth and letting them fall into her lap, “did you find him?”

Your lips twitch into a smile and you nod. Her eyes get wider, and she practically begins to vibrate with excitement. You begin to gently rub her back, wanting her to feel all of your love, “I did. I found your Daddy. Do you want to know who it is?”

“Mister Matt?” Her voice is so hopeful that your heart swells to the point you can feel it in your throat.

You nod, your cheeks beginning to hurt from your smiling, “Mister Matt.”

She throws her arms around your neck and squeezes you so tightly that for a moment you can't breathe. You hug her back, rocking her in your arms. You never expected to have this conversation like this - you've not really had discussions about family with her yet, but you suppose that doesn't matter now. Your daughter knows the truth and you can feel her smiling against your neck. Tears of joy are gathering in the corners of your eyes, and you fight to keep them from escaping.

You don't know how long you stay there, holding and rocking Mouse, but eventually she pulls back to look you in the face, “does Mister Matt wanna be my Daddy?”

You cup her face and bring her close to start peppering kisses all over, “Yes, yes, he does. He wants to be your Daddy very much. Do you want him to be your Daddy?”

She nods enthusiastically, “I want him to be my Daddy! Please thank you!”

You pull her into a tight hug again and she dissolves into giggles. You don't know if she fully understands but you know this is the first step in her getting it, and you want it to be a good moment. You kiss her forehead, then decide this is a good opportunity to practice talking about feelings.

“How does Mister Matt being your Daddy make you feel?”

She stays nestled against you. You let her think and after a few moments, she whispers, like it's a secret between the two of you, “it makes me happy.”

“It makes you happy?” You confirm.

She nods, before adding, “He has a happy heart. We make him happy. He makes you happy.”

You take in her observation and realize it's true. You find yourself smiling more when you are around Matt - mostly from watching him and Minnie interact. They are the sweetest pair. And you don't need Minnie or Matt's hearing to know how happy Matt is to be around Minnie. His entire being screams it.

“He does make me happy,” you agree. “And it makes me happy he is your Daddy. And hey, Mouse. Look at me?” She pulls back and looks at you with wide eyes and you make sure you hold eye contact, “Our next Big Girl Talk will be about how things will change now that you have a Daddy, okay?” She nods eagerly, a serious look coming across her face. Telling her in advance about what you will be talking about helps with her comprehending it is a serious topic.

You take a moment to look her over, noting in all the ways she looks like her father before leaning in to kiss her cheek again. “I love you, Mouse.”

“I love you, too, Mommy,” she replies, all smiles and sunshine. She mimics you by placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek with a big ‘mwah’ added for good measure, then she hugs herself to you again. You wrap her up in your arms, content to just hold her. It doesn't last long - she's still a wiggly toddler and she eventually wiggles away from you. She crawls back onto the bed, grabbing Scooby before dramatically flopping over.

“Can we has pizza for lunch?”

You guess life changing news time is over now and you are back to your regularly scheduled day. You hum at her question, thinking pizza sounds perfect for lunch. “Do you want to make it or do you want to go by Tiny’s?”

“Make it!”

You laugh and your wallet thanks your daughter's desire to make things from scratch. Luckily for you, you already have pre-made pizza dough. You just have to add toppings and bake it.

“Okay, we can make pizza for lunch,” you tell Minnie, and she responds by making Scooby cheer, pushing his arms up into the air and waving them around. You smile at her excitement; glad everything is going so well. You know this would not be as easy if Minnie didn't absolutely adore Matt. You can't imagine how things would have gone if she started asking these questions months ago.

You pull yourself away from your thoughts to focus back on folding laundry. Mouse rolls back up into sitting and snatches up something from the pile to help you. It takes her a full thirty seconds before she dives into make pretend and you both work as she narrates your adventures of tidying up before the big princess ball.

-----

You check in with Matt to make sure you are disrupting anything before you and Mouse start towards his office. Your sweet little girl wanted to bring her new Daddy lunch and Matt had not said no to the offer of homemade pizza. You hadn't hinted that the truth had been revealed to Minnie - you kind of want it to be a surprise for him and you want to be able to see his reaction in person.

Your daughter is undeniably excited. She's swinging her arms as you walk, and every other step is a bounce. You are trying your hardest to not laugh at her antics and she has picked up on that and it has become a game. When you pause at the crosswalk, you look down and she sticks her tongue out at you. When you return the gesture, she gasps, then squeals with joy. You wrinkle up your nose at her, pulling a funny face to keep up the positive energy.

She bunny hops across the street and keeps at it until you are in front of the building holding Nelson, Murdock, and Page. She seems to recognize she's been here before, pausing to look up at the building before hurrying up the stairs. You follow her inside and she keeps a hold of your hand as you go up to the right floor.

This time, you let her knock on the door - you don't want to walk in on anything awkward again - and a moment later, it swings open to reveal Karen. Mouse practically teleports behind you, obviously not expecting someone other than Matt to answer. The blonde smiles warmly at you, a twinkle in her eye.

“Pizza delivery?” you say, hoping it will lighten the mood and Minnie will be less afraid of the woman in front of her.

Karen steps aside with a laugh and you usher Mouse inside, “I heard it was homemade.”

You flush over the idea of Matt talking about you to his friends, but you had offered to bring his law partners lunch as well. “Uh, yes. It's just cheese, nothing fancy,” you tell her, hoping to not get her hopes up over it being fantastic pizza. Cooking for yourself and a toddler is far different from cooking for adults, and you are suddenly very aware of how high their expectations may be.

“No one in their right mind complains about pizza, let alone homemade pizza,” a voice says from your left and you turn to see Foggy and Matt in the conference room, both sitting at the table and gathering up remnants of their work.

“Your cooking is amazing, don't sell yourself short,” Matt adds, his smile causing your heart to pound in your chest. The praise makes you a little dizzy and you tell yourself to stop acting like a school girl - he's probably just being polite.

“He lorded that lasa-”

Foggy’s joking is cut off by the sudden pitter-patter of feet and the absolute toddler screech of, “DADDY!”

Minnie is halfway to Matt before you even realize she's left your side. You hurry after her, Karen right behind you, and you make it in time to see Mouse crash right into Matt's legs. He looks completely dumbfounded - eyes wide behind his red lenses and lips parted in surprise - and your daughter uses his shocked state to scale him. She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him as tight as her little body will allow.

Matt returns the hug with just as much force once he realizes what's going on, burying his face into her hair. His shoulders start to shake, and you can just barely hear him confirm for her, “Yeah, baby. I'm your Daddy. I'm your Daddy.”

You can't help but let the tears fall this time, covering your mouth so you don't disturb the sweet moment. Movement in the corner of your eyes lets you know Karen is also covering her mouth and crying. You are pretty sure Mouse is the only one not crying.

Your little one can only stand being crushed for so long and she pulls away from Matt but stays standing on his lap. She places her hands on his cheeks and you don't know if she's trying to keep balance or mimicking a gesture you frequently do with her.

You can see Matt's tears from across the room and your heart twists. How long has he wanted this? How long have you wanted this? You want to hold them both and never let go - just so you can keep this feeling of overwhelming love forever.

Minnie breaks the symphony of sniffles, declaring, “Mommy said she lost you.”

Matt gives a wet laugh, his smile so bright and full of adoration for his daughter, “she did? She won't lose me again. I promise. I'm not going anywhere.”

You have to keep yourself from sobbing at his words. Too many emotions stir at his promise, and you have to remind yourself he's talking to Minnie and not you. As much as you want to hear the words yourself, to have someone say they'll never leave you - you know it isn't in the cards for you. You wrap your arms around yourself and watch Minnie search Matt's face.

She pats his cheeks with both hands, telling her father in a serious tone, “you have to stay close. Or Mommy will put you on a leash.”

It takes a moment for you to realize she's referring to her tethered backpack, but the damage is already done.

“You don't want her to put you on a leash, do you Matt?” Foggy asks, not missing a beat and not at all sounding like a crying mess despite being one.

Karen lets out a scandalized “Foggy!” while you bury your face into your hands, wishing the floor would swallow you up.

Matt doesn't even get to respond to the tease - Minnie whips her head around and her eyes get wide as she seems to realize other people are in the room. You can see the wheels turning in her mind before she crashes herself back into Matt's arms with a giggle, “Froggy!”

Matt doesn't seem to mind being used as a jungle gym and wraps himself around Minnie to hold her close. He kisses the top of her head and chokes out, “Yeah, that's Foggy, and that over there is Karen. Do you remember - I told you about them?” Your little one hides her face against his neck with a nod. You see her jaw move as she mumbles something to Matt, but you are too far away to hear but whatever it is, Matt gives a pleased laugh, “Yeah, his hair is too short to braid.”

Foggy scoffs at this reveal, “That is nonsense. My hair is long enough to braid!” He looks at you and Karen for confirmation, “Is my hair long enough to braid?”

“I mean,” Karen says, wiping away her tears with a smile, “They'd be pretty small. It would certainly be a fashion choice.”

“It's longer than Matt's hair,” he argues, a pout forming on his lips - but you can tell it's playful.

Minnie peeks away from the crook of her father's neck to peer at Foggy. She eyes him before declaring, “Too short!”

“Looks like you've been overruled, Fog,” Matt says, resting his cheek against the top of Minnie’s head, happy to let her hide against him. He's stopped crying, but his voice is still a little wet. “You’ll have to go with another style.”

“Liberty spikes?” Your mouth offers before your brain catches up.

Foggy and Karen both look at you and you fear they think you are insane. The familiar pounding starts in your chest and your mouth feels dry, but before panic can see in, Foggy shakes his head, throwing his arms up as he speaks.

“Do you know how much product those need? It's like a can of Got2B per day and I promised myself ‘never again’.”

“When did you have liberty spikes?” Karen asks. She moves to sit at the table with Matt and Foggy and you quickly follow, not wanting to be the only one standing.

“High school was a weird and wonderful time,” is the reply and you try to picture this sweet friendly lawyer with a punk aesthetic. It doesn't really work, but the image makes you smile.

“Daddy can do puffs,” Minnie mumbles across the table to Foggy and you are proud of her for being so brave, “and Mommy…. Mommy makes Moon Buns. She can make you extra pretty.”

Foggy grins at you, waggling his eyebrows, “Well, if she can make me extra pretty…”

Karen swats at Foggy's arm, “how about you keep your hair as it is - we don't need Marci coming after us.”

“Please, she appreciates my daring sense of fashion,” he scoffs.

Matt hums, then stage whispers to Minnie, “Mouse, can you tell Daddy what Foggy is wearing?”

Minnie turns slowly to look at the man in question. Her fist goes up to her mouth and she leans heavily into Matt as she examines him. The blonde man stands up and takes a few steps back, so his outfit is on full view. He even does a slow spin.

“He looks like Barbar,” she decides, and you snort with laughter because you one hundred percent see it. He's in a gray three-piece suit but his tie is a dark green.

“I…I don't know who that is,” Foggy says, a somewhat panicked look on his face. He turns to you, “What does that mean? Is that a good thing or have I just been roasted by a toddler?”

“The elephant?” Matt questions, brows knitting together behind his glasses. You wonder if he read the books when he was a kid, before he lost his eyesight, or if he's been doing his research.

“He wears a three-piece suit,” you clarify, letting yourself start to relax as conversation flows. “He's very fancy.”

“Aren't those books banned?” Karen asks. She doesn't sound judgmental - just like she's clarifying the reference.

You shrug and smile towards your daughter, “they made a new show a few years ago.”

“I still don't know if this is a good thing.”

“You look…handsomes,” Minnie mumbles before turning back to tuck herself under Matt's chin. You read her body language easily - she isn't scared or upset at the interaction. She's just shy. You can see her hidden little smile.

“Oh, you are so his kid,” Foggy whispers, “That was smooth.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and you look down at your lap. Matt certainly is smooth. It is like he can't help himself, as far as you have seen. He's just naturally charming - and your daughter is sweet as can be. You are a lot more clumsy.

The man beside you chuckles and out of the corner of your eye you see him rub Minnie’s arms. With a slight cockiness in his voice, he asks, “Mouse, can you tell Daddy what Foggy had for breakfast?”

You can feel the shift in the air - Karen's interest in your daughter's assessment is practically vibrating off her.

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth, your anxiety spiking at the question. You trust Matt, but you don't know these people. You've only just learned what your daughter can do and already it is being shared.

But, you have no doubts about your daughter’s ability to answer the question. Matt had spent his entire day off playing ‘what's that smell?’ and ‘what's that sound?’ with Mouse and she just wanted to show off for him. Plus, she just likes to answer questions.

Still, she stays against his chest and for a moment you are worried she might just be too shy to answer, but then she starts to whisper.

“Froggy ate a banana. And coffees.”

Matt nuzzles into her hair with a smile, looking proud as can be, “Anything else?”

Your little one sways back and forth, clearly thinking over the question. Her little fist stays against her mouth as she adds, “Cookies.”

She gets a little chuckle from her father, and he kisses her hair before explaining, “That's close. When there are cookies and banana smells for breakfast, that usually means a banana muffin.” He tilts his head towards his best friend, “Right, Fog?”

Foggy nods as he sits down, pulling a face as he does, “Right, a banana nut muffin and coffee. I'm so glad there are two of you to know that now. You are going to give me a complex.”

You can see Minnie screw up her face in thought, then she turns around in Matt's arms to properly look at Foggy again.

“Froggies can't have people food,” she advises. “Froggies eat bugs.”

“I'm not…my name is Foggy, not Froggy. I'm a people.”

You wonder how many times this will happen and decide that while the back and forth happens, you should start setting up lunch. From your purse, you start to pull out the tupperware containing pizza.

“Froggy.”

“Foggy. Fog-gy. Not Froggy. Buddy, help me out here.”

“This is out of my control,” Matt hums. He looks like he is having the time of his life and his smile is infectious. You look up to see Foggy looking at you, silently pleading, but you can tell it's all an act. If it was actually bothering him, you would correct Minnie.

Instead, you simply add, “Ribbit ribbit.”

There's a dramatic groan of “but I don't even like flies!”

“Froggy! Frog!” is Mouse’s adamant response. You are grateful Matt's friends want to engage with your daughter instead of just ignoring her. You know he thinks of them as his family, and you want a good relationship with them.

“I don't know, I think I like Froggy. It's better than Franklin,” Karen says with amusement in her eye. She leans forward and asks Minnie, “Did you bring a bug pizza for him?”

Minnie shakes her head, eyes going big at the idea of a bug pizza.

“Okay, if I am a frog, what is she?” Foggy asks, accepting his fate as he points at Karen.

All eyes turn to her, and the blonde woman straightens up and smiles brightly at your daughter.

“A princess,” Minnie decides after a brief examination, “of Froggyland. Princess of Froggyland.”

Karen absolutely grins at the assessment while the newly assigned amphibian looks scandalized. “The Princess of Froggyland? She rules over me? I reject the monarchy - I'm staging a rebellion.”

“Long live the Queen,” Matt teases and both you and Minnie laugh.

“Excuse you, I'm a princess, not a queen. Yet.”

“Who rules over Froggyland?” You ask Minnie as you pass out the pizza. You get a chorus of ‘thank you’s as your daughter considers her options.

“Jimmy Cricket,” is the final decree.

“A bug rules over Froggyland?”

“I mean, the physical embodiment of a good conscience would be a good king, right?” Matt theorizes.

“All kings are unethical,” counters his law partner and Karen must sense a debate coming, as she puts her foot down.

“No politics while eating.”

“I didn't start this, your highness,” Foggy playfully bickers. As they start going back and forth again, you look over to the pair beside you.

Matt helps Minnie sit down in his lap and once she is secure, he goes to open his pizza. He's ducked his head so he can whisper to her as he does - you can see his lips moving but once again, you can't hear the words. You wonder if it is about the food, but part of you honestly doesn't care what it is. You are just happy that all of this is happening.

You are happy your daughter knows the truth about who her father is and that she seems excited over it. You are happy you get to see them bond and you are happy to see Minnie be so social. You can already see the hints that this dramatic life change is going to be good for her, and that doesn't even include the new information you learned about her senses.

You scoot your chair a little closer to Matt's, preparing to bring Minnie over to your lap so he can eat. Before you can reach for her, Matt places his hand on your knee. You try to not turn into a blushing mess as he starts to rub little circles with his thumb - this isn't what you intended to happen and it's far too embarrassing to push his hand away.

Not that you want to push it away. The touch is awkward on your end, but only because you are so unused to being touched. It isn't unwanted. In fact, it's a little comforting, even though it is sending all sorts of mixed signals to your brain, heart, and cunt. You try to ignore the latter - those thoughts have no place in this moment.

At least that is what you tell yourself until Matt turns his head towards you and gives you the softest smile. Your brain, heart, and cunt all clench before doing all sorts of flips inside of you. He mouths ‘thank you’ to you and the only thing you can think to do is wrap your hand around his and squeeze. He turns his palm up and laces your fingers together and it does nothing to soothe your pounding heart, but you don't think you mind.

You squeeze his hand again and your entire being explodes with love when Minnie realizes Matt is looking at you and turns her head to beam up at you.

“Love you, Mommy.”

“Love you, too, baby.”

She tilts her head back so she can see Matt and in the softest voice says, “Love you, Daddy.”

You're pretty sure Matt starts crying again as he responds, “I love you, too, Minnie. I love you so so much.”

tags:

dnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @allllium

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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smwhererealistic · 6 months ago

Note

can I request a Kenma x reader fic? What would be kenma's reaction the reader cheers for other members/group? Thank you!! Love you fics <3

cheerleader gf cheering for someone else

---

kenma always felt tired, introverted during games; but he always tries his best. his biggest fear is what others think of him, he can't help it though. during games he felt unmotivated at times, but it changed when he finally confessed his feelings for you at the start of second year due to the team and kuroo's nagging self.

according to his best friend's words, he finally ''snagged the girl of his dreams''. every match, if he ever needs to, takes a quick glance at his girlfriend cheering for him (the team) by the side.

when people started to realise the quiet gamer setter was dating the perky cheerleader. it was no better than yamamoto whining about how kenma got a girlfriend before him and yaku's teasing.

he didn't mind it though other than showing his flustered face everytime. he loved you and you were his personal cheerleader when he was down.

however, now he watched by the side, the aoba johsai match against fukorodani. you were cheering for oikawa (THE TEAM) , the male lead of almost all the female's eyes. it didn't help that you were from that school too, so he couldn't really know what happens.

he met you at the first practice match of seijoh and nekoma. you found him sitting outside during break time, playing animal crossing as his switch got taken away by the bedheaded male since the match was starting again.

you glanced at him and reached into your bag as you silently left the gym and handed it to the shocked guy. your switch was already turned on and ready to play even if there was 5 minutes left.

''you can return it later,'' you said and walked back in as he fiddled with the cat charm on it. that's how you two met, and got closer after.

he would text you in class secretly when he felt low on energy so he could get to read your comforting words. the match soon ended, with aoba johsai losing by two points.

he smirked mentally as the captain of seijoh cheered his teammates up. it immediately turned into a frown, physically, as he walked over to you and hugged you dramatically as you complained about his sweaty self.

''looks like yn might switch sides-'' lev said out loud unintentionally as yaku nudged him. kuroo tried to ease the tension as he patted kenma's back and turned to his team to get ready for their match in 10 minutes.

kenma stood up quietly as he snuck out, and to the designated locker rooms which you saw.

---

kenma didn't know why he left, it's not like he even had anything to distract himself with since his switch got taken away...but, he just waited.

then, the door opens as he sees you enter.

''what's wrong, kenma..?'' i walked towards the male sitting on the floor, against a locker as i approached and stood before him.

i reached from my pockets and took out a switch as i handed it to him and sat beside the now flustered guy.

''nothing..'' he mutters and immediately starts a game. you continued to sit beside him, watching as he occasionally fiddles with the cat charm while playing.

we both sat in silence as we heard the announcer's voice, informing them of the 3 minutes left. thinking his team might be stressed, you gently took the switch and patted his head as he groaned softly and stood up.

you pulled him out of the locker room, hand in hand as we walked back to the gym, muttering motivational words to him as he kept silent.

''yn...who is oikawa to you?'' he asks softly, his hair hiding his face.

''my cousin???'' he froze in his steps.

''oh.''

---

sorry for postponing this request for so long!!

#kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu kenma #kuroo #yaku #lev #yamamoto #oikawa #aoba johsai #seijoh #hq kenma #hq #haikyuu!!#kozume kenma x reader

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celebrimbormylove · 2 months ago

Text

In This Lifetime

I WROTE THIS FOR YOU @morganas-pendragons <3 Hope you like it!!!

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Golden leaves fell slowly off of the giant tree that overlooked the great elven realm of Lindon. They were a sure sign of the end that was creeping closer every day. By the time they would have all fallen, the elves would become nothing more but lingering fragments, a sign of a great race, trapped in time.

Standing there, in front of the Great Tree, did not help ease your mind as you had originally hoped it would. When your mind was in chaos, the mere sight of the tree could usually bring back your peace. This time, however, it brought upon nothing but sorrow. Knowing the fate of your people, and knowing you could do nothing about it, left you in despair.

“These rings, they could save our people. They could save the entirety of Middle Earth.” The words of your closest friend echoed through your head at that moment. He spoke highly of three rings that he claimed to have the power to prevent the disastrous fate that you were stuck dwelling on. Though you knew not of any such power. You feared what would happen if such rings were to be made. It would be no different from going against the Valar themselves.

“Do you still believe that the rings are a bad idea?”

His voice startles you as he comes to stand with you, under the tree. He gazes up at it, contemplating something that you believed to be far beyond your comprehension. He was always thinking of something, but that is what made him into the genius he is.

“They will forever be a bad idea, until you can create them in a way that does not disrupt the natural order of things.”

Your response caught him off guard. When he had proposed the idea to you, he did not imagine that you would linger on it for so long, nor that you would think so deeply about it. Though he did admire that about you. Your mind worked in wondrous ways.

“What if I could convince you that the rings are working parallel to the natural order? They would not stir up any trouble.” He held your hand gently as he spoke, and while you wanted to believe him, you found it hard to do so.

“How would you convince me?”

“Come back with me to my forge. Let me show you how I wish to make the rings.”

A part of you wanted to fight back, but his sweet words, his gentle voice, it all swayed you to follow him back to Eregion.

His forge was nothing short of breathtaking. Gems and other beautiful trinkets were placed carefully around the room. The light from the setting sun showered the room in a beautiful, soft glow. You couldn’t help but to be reminded of the early days in your friendship with Celebrimbor. He would often have you stay with him while he worked on his latest project, claiming that you were like a good-luck charm for him.

”Come, have a seat. I’m gonna make some tea and then we’ll get into the rings.” He led you to a rather soft looking chair and then hurried off to make tea. He was always so hospitable to you, even after the countless times when you would tell him that he didn’t need to be.

A sudden crashing noise, from the direction he was in, had you on your feet and racing towards him in a matter of seconds. It seemed as though he wasn’t quite paying attention and had dropped one of his teacups. Hardly something to cry over.

”What happened? Are you hurt?” You slowly walked towards him, so as not to startle him.

”I was making tea and the cup was in my hand, it was so secure. I have no idea how it fell.” He was staring down at the cup as though it was a wounded animal. This would have been quite amusing, had you not been so concerned from the start.

”It is just a cup, my dear friend. There is no need to be so upset over it. Here, let me help you clean it up.” You grabbed a nearby towerl and knelt down beside the broken cup. Before you could even start picking up the pieces, you noticed little spots of blood, which you deduced to be his.

”Celebrimbor?”

”Hm?”

“Let me see your hand.”

You stood up again and extended your hand, waiting for him to offer his. But he hesitated.

”I am fine you know, there’s no need for this. In fact, I can clean the cup up myself. You should go have a seat, my dear.” He tried to usher you away but you stood your ground.

”Hand. Now.”

He hesitated for a second longer before finally giving in and placing his hand in yours. Despite being a master smith, he had quite soft hands. It dawned on you then that you had never really held his hand before. You carefully examined it and found a small yet deep cut on his ring finger.

”Your hands are your best tools, Celebrimbor, you cannot hurt them.”

He sighed at your words. You brought him back to the main room and found a clean cloth and some ribbon. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only option at that moment. You brought him over to the chair you were previously sitting at and sat him down, squishing yourself in, between him and the arm rest.

”You know, you could just heal it.” He looked down at you with a playful smile on his face.

You frowned at him.

“No. You and I both know that my healing abilities are hardly something to rely on.”

”It is a small cut, my dear. I believe in you.”

”Celebrimbor-“

”I trust you with my entire being.”

His words made you freeze. You had been friends with him for many, many years. It was only natural for you to develop feelings for him, even though you had convinced yourself that he wouldn’t feel the same way. So to hear those words from him now…it made your heart flutter and suddenly, the room seemed way too warm.

You said nothing in response as you carefully cleaned the cut and prepared to heal it. Your healing abilities were not at a level where you could save someone from the brink of death, but it should be good enough for this.

A soft, light blue glow shone from your hands as you hovered over his cut. You closed your eyes, focusing your energy on healing him. He watched you carefully, admiring the focused look on your face while also taking in how beautiful you were. Especially this close.

”There, it should have worked.” You slowly opened your eyes and examined his finger. The cut was gone, not even a scar left behind.

”It would seem as though you are not giving yourself enough credit, my dear.”

He smiled gently at you as he flipped his hand around in yours and intertwined his fingers with your own. “I should keep you here with me, to be my personal healer.” He laughed as he said this but he was only half joking.

”That would only work so long as you do not injure yourself gravely.” You slowly pulled your hand out of his and brought your other one up to cup his face. ”I cannot lose you, and I would not be able to save you.”

It was more than a profession of love. You were telling him how you had felt for many years now. You couldn’t live without him. He had left such a lasting impression on your life that it would feel like a void if he were to leave.

”Lucky for you, I do not intend to go anywhere. I will stay right here with you, for as long as you will have me.” He closed his eyes and leaned into your hands, relaxing against your touch.

You sighed deeply, letting go of all of the worries you held earlier. Your hands seemed to move on their own, as they traveled upwards and gently traced the outer shell of his ears. He let out a soft sigh and tilted his head back, letting his head fall deeper into your hands.

Oh how he had been waiting for this moment. He longed for your touch, for you to hold him, to know that you felt the same as he did. The feeling of your delicate fingers running along his ears, it made him feel as though he was touched by the Valar themselves. He felt invincible. You made him feel invincible.

”My dear?”

”Should I stop?” You slowly started to pull your hands away but he quickly grabbed them and held them in place.

”Do not stop. Please.”

His voice was so soft, full of love and desperation. He needed you more than he needed air. You were his lifeline.

”Marry me?”

You dropped your hands in shock at his words. He was staring at you now, his eyes full of intent. He truly wanted you, there was no doubt about that.

”Celebrimbor? Do you truly mean it?”

“With every breath in my body, with the very blood that runs through my veins, I mean it. You are more precious to me than anything I have ever created, more beautiful than any jewel in the universe. You are my everything. Please, Y/N, marry me.”

He was holding your hands in his now, his face mere inches away from you. You leaned in to him, your lips were hovering over his now.

“I will marry you. In this lifetime and in every one in the future.”

He could not longer find any words to say. He instead decided to pull you onto his lap and hold your head in his hands. Reciprocating your earlier movements, he traced the tips of your ears before pulling you into him and kissing you. Your little noise of surprise was drowned out by his deep sigh as he deepened the kiss, leaving you both absolutely breathless.

He finally felt as though he had everything wanted in his life. You always were the missing part of his life. He silently vowed to never let the world harm you, for as long as you both lived. As you had said, in this life, and every one in the future.

#the rings of power #celebrimbor #celebrimbor x reader #x reader #lord of the rings #the hobbit #middle earth #celebrimbormylove

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squerlly · 7 months ago

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Fair Exchange Chapter 1

------"whatever you cant receive on a spoon you'll lick off a knife"------

Alastor x (F! doe wife reader)

The Doe ----------------------------------------------------

knocking on the door to Alastors office I walk in, holding a tray with a plate of venison and utensils "I made sure to cut off all of the parts you don't like" Setting it on his desk I take the tray "Thank you my dear" people have always asked me if it bothered me that my husband was a cannibal. although it can be a bit disturbing to most, after a while of living with Alastor and preparing his meals I have gotten quite used to seeing him eat meat like a wild animal.

turning I start to make my way out the door "Before you go...I have something I think you would be interested in" I turn to face him once more "Yes?" "on my outing yesterday I happened to stumble upon an advertisement for a hotel on the far side of the Pentagram, it was hosted by none other than Princess Morningstar" Princess Charlie Morningstar the king of hell's only daughter and heir to the throne. Alastor forbade any form of technology in his manor but occasionally when I make trips to cannibal town, there are always newspapers that tell what's going on in the pride ring. it did not take long for word to spread that the princess of hell made a hotel to redeem sinners.

"it has been the recent talk around the townspeople, what about it?" he sets his fork down, whipping the blood off his mouth with a napkin "Well I have decided to pay a visit and offer some.... assistance~" I raise an eyebrow in suspicion, Alastor never offers "assistance" to anyone unless he gets something in return ten fold, I out of all people should know that. "I know you don't really get out much unless it's for errand's so I was thinking you could accompany me, if you want that is" "I would like that.." he stands up walking towards me handing me his empty plate "wonderful, pack your bag with any necessities and well be off in an hour"

he walks out of the office leaving me standing, Alastor never takes me anywhere with him. I have always stayed at the house tending to it until he gets back from his outings, it would be a nice change to stay someplace new. I head down to the kitchen, whipping it down and washing any dishes before walking upstairs to my bedroom. I packed lightly I didn't have many belongings, not that I needed to anyway, just the normal clothes and toiletry items and maybe a book or two.

I walk back downstairs, Alastor waiting for me at the door. "ready?" I nod and he snaps his fingers teleporting both of our bags to who knows where, he opens the door for me and we begin to walk down the streets of hell. demons make way scattering like roaches when they see Alastor and I can't blame them, Alastor was terrifying, his never-ending toothy smile, mysterious persona, and merciless reputation made him feared by all, its why he's the most powerful overlord.

However... no matter how scary and bad he can be he has his moments where he can be calm and charming, it's why so many women adore him and also the reason why I get so many nasty looks when I stand beside him. not many people know that the radio demon has a wife and its for the safety of me and the sake of him, even if people found out Alastor had a wife and kidnapped me to get to him I doubt it would benefit them.

I am nothing but another soul on his leash, being his wife is just a mere title. the only exception is that Alastor doesn't treat me like any ordinary soul he possesses. he never hurt me, touched me, or treated me with disrespect but as his wife, we never had anything romantic for each other. not that I wouldn't be opposed to the idea of anything romantic, after all, I don't hate Alastor but... I don't think he likes me very much at least not in that way.

we walk up a stone Path leading to a door with apples on painted glass, Alastor knocks on the door it opening before a girl with pale white skin and long blond hair peeks outside "Why hel-" the door closes interrupting him. She finally opens the door again "May I speak now?" she nods "You may" Alastor shakes her hand and with a cheery voice introduces himself walking inside while I follow shortly behind him. I looked around the hotel was not in the best condition but it was something.

A woman with a spear in her hand points it at Alastor stopping him in his tracks "I won't let you hurt anyone in this hotel you pompous cheesy talk show shit lord!" Alastor moves her spear giving her a threat before moving on, I'm surprised she's still alive.

the girl introduces herself as vaggie and the girl with blonde hair being Princess Charlie, although I have heard of her I wouldn't have imagined her to be so bright, her being almost doll-like and innocent. "so where is your hotel staff?" Charlie gives a nervous look before she points at vaggie "Uh huh ho, we're going to need more than that" he walks over to the fireplace lighting it aflame before summoning a little girl covered in ashes who turned out to be nifty.

she runs around and immediately starts cleaning before Alastor summons Husker who was in a game of poker, I haven't seen Husker in a long while I feel bad that he has been dragged into this. everyone introduces each other before Angel Dust the tall spider demon notices me "Hey who is this cutie ya brought with ya" I turn and wave before Alastor steps in "That is my wonderful... friend y/n"

Charlie walks over to me shaking my hand "Nice to meet you!!! I'm so glad you are joining us" "It's nice to meet you too princess" "Please just call me Charlie!" introductions were cut short when the wall got blown open revealing a blimp outside and a demon inside calling out for Alastor. he revealed himself as sir pentious and pulled out a death ray? Alastor made quick work of him before everyone went back inside to get settled in.

Charlie gave me a room across from Alastor, Alastor teleporting my bag in my room I started unpacking putting my clothes in their drawers, and hopping on my bed. thankfully the floor had a carpet otherwise I would have been slipping all over the floor. hooves and hardwood don't mix, I learned that the hard way when I first landed down here.

I changed into a short comfy nightgown, brushed my teeth, and slid under the covers of my bed. it wasn't as cozy as the ones back at home but if it meant I got to stay and do something other than housework, how could I complain. and with that I drifted off, until the next morning...

chapter one YAYYY!!!! sorry for taking so long but I have bright ideas for this series and cant wait to publish them. chapter 2 is in the making so stay tuned and have a wonderful day/night love you guys!!!

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

for more content and chapter please click this masterlist

#hazbin #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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Batting Practice Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets roped into helping Bob coach tee ball, even though he knows nothing about kids. But he is immediately charmed by his team and one of the moms.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"I could really use your help," Bob told Bradley over some drinks at the Hard Deck. "Jake wouldn't take it seriously enough, and Phoenix already volunteers at the animal shelter. Will you do it?"

Bradley tipped his pint glass against his lips and took a long drink. "Ten weeks is a long time," he told his friend.

Bob drummed his fingers against the bartop. "I need a contingency plan in case I get deployed. That's the only way the league will let me coach a team."

Bradley leaned forward on his elbow. "Bob, I don't really even know anything about tee ball. Or kids for that matter."

"You played baseball in college!" Bob reminded him with a hopeful smile. "And you were really good, right? Starting shortstop all four years?"

"You're just trying to use that against me, aren't you?" Bradley asked with a chuckle.

"Of course I am! My sister is begging me to do this, and I want to! My niece is struggling in school, but she loves sports. I think she would do better with a coach she's familiar with," Bob gushed. "Come on."

But he was still shaking his head. "It's not that I don't want to, Bob. It's just that, I don't know anything about kids!"

"Kids are simple. You treat them like their opinions matter, and they'll love you forever. At least that's how it works with Piper, my niece."

Bradley heaved a deep sigh. It wasn't like he had anything better to do with his time. He was single, work ended at 4:30 when he wasn't deployed, and he really did love baseball. It might be fun to teach a bunch of kids how to play. Hell, what did he have to lose?

"Yeah, okay."

Bob's eyes went wide behind his glasses. "Really? You'll be the co-coach of the Tiny Eagles with me?"

With a shrug and a smile, Bradley nodded his head. "Yeah, Bob. I'll be your co-coach."

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

"What do you mean you're not allowed peanut butter in the lunchroom?" you asked your son as you were making his school lunch. "You took a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on Friday!"

"That was last week, mommy. The rules have changed, and it's important to be flexible."

You really despised it when your six year old used your own words against you.

"Everett, I don't have time for this. You'll need to buy lunch today, okay? Be flexible?" you said, glancing down at your half-dressed body. You needed to be on time for work today, therefore the elementary school cafeteria food would just have to do.

Everett scrunched up his nose but said, "Okay, mommy."

"Perfect," you said, shoving the jar of peanut butter to the side and pouring two bowls of cereal. "Eat your cheerios so I can get you to school."

You inhaled your own breakfast and then dashed back up to your room to finish getting ready. Your suit with the tight pants was the only one that was clean, so you squeezed yourself into them and found a clean bra. Frank would be in the office today, and you'd gotten used to him meeting up with you around lunchtime to make out a little bit, even though it was strictly against company policy. He'd like the tight pants, you supposed.

Once you added some mascara and lip gloss to your face, you found your black heels and started back down the stairs. "Shit," you muttered, turning around again. Today was Everett's first day of tee ball practice, so you grabbed a pair of old sneakers to change into later.

You felt like a scattered mess all the time, especially since Danny, your ex-husband was almost no help with Everett. Every time you thought about him, you wanted to punch the wall, so you took a calming breath and put a smile back on your face before you entered the kitchen.

"Let's get going, sweetie. You've got tee ball after school today, so I'm packing some extra snacks."

"Yes!" Everett cheered. "I've been waiting all month for baseball to start!"

You smiled and ushered him out to your car. "Remember, it's not quite baseball, so don't get ahead of yourself, Ev. But tee ball is a good place to start."

"Yeah, I know. But it's still going to be fun."

Once you dropped him off at school, you raced to your office and tried to sneak to your desk without anyone bothering you. Thankfully you made it all the way there before Frank let himself in.

Yeah, you and he were hooking up. Yeah, you had slept over his house last weekend while Everett was with your sister. But you still didn't want him to just waltz into your office whenever he felt like it.

"Hey, baby," he whispered, walking toward your desk. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Frank," you told him, trying to compile your spreadsheets while he kissed your cheek. "Just very busy. And Everett has practice this evening."

"When are you free to go out again?" he asked, stroking his fingers down your neck. God, it felt good to be touched like this, but Frank really wasn't your type, and he was mediocre at everything. He was mediocre at work, usually doing the bare minimum. He was a mediocre kisser. He had mediocre looks. He was probably below average in bed.

But you were a single mom who barely had time to eat, only washed her hair three times a week, and usually fell asleep about thirty minutes after Everett did every night.

"I'm not sure, Frank. I'll have to let you know." Bottom line, you'd probably schedule another date for next week when you'd be too horny again to mind that you weren't that into him. Not the best way to live your life, but what else were you supposed to do?

"You just call me, and I'll take you out anywhere you want."

What you wanted was to be able to introduce Everett to the guy you were spending time with, but Frank hated kids.

"I'll let you know. I'm just busy at the moment, so..." You let your sentence hang until he nodded and took the hint. When your door closed behind him, you got back to work. Of course you were in the middle of a phone call and existing solely on caffeine when your alarm went off to let you know you needed to go pick Everett up.

"Sounds great. I'll talk to my clients and get back to you soon," you said, ending your work call and sweeping your work into your bag.

"Shit." You'd accidentally skipped your lunch again. You ate your sandwich while you were in the car pickup line at Everett's school and then touched up your mascara and lip gloss.

"Ready, sweetie? First day of practice!"

He climbed into the car and buckled himself into his seat. "Ready!"

You just smiled as he tugged his Phillies hat lower over his forehead. You'd been taking him to Padres games as often as you could, ever since he'd become obsessed with baseball. Each time the Padres played a new team, you let Everett pick out a shirt or hat to remember the game by. For some reason that Phillies cap was his favorite.

"I hope my team colors are red and white, so they match my hat," he said, munching on a snack while you pulled into the ballpark lot.

"That would be fun. Just remember, we don't complain about things like the color of your uniform," you mumbled, snagging an empty spot next to a vintage Ford Bronco. You gave it a quick once over before you got Everett and his equipment out of the car and started to head toward the field, changing your shoes as you went.

"Are those my coaches?" Everett asked as you lugged his bat and carried your heels in one hand. "What were their names again?"

"Um, Coach Bob and Coach Bradley? I think? We'll find out in a minute," you said, but when you looked up, you saw two extremely handsome men walking toward you. They were wearing matching blue jerseys, caps and whistles, and your tummy dipped at the way the one with darker hair carried himself when he walked. He was almost strutting across the infield, and his baseball cap was on backwards.

You bit back an embarrassing sound before it could escape you, and you had to force your mouth to shut.

"Come on, mommy!"

Your attention snapped back to your son who was now headed for the bleachers. He was already changing into his cleats amongst all the other kids by the time you caught up to him.

When you glanced up toward the coaches again, the one with the backward hat was already looking at you. His head was cocked a little to one side, and he had a cute, crooked smile playing at the corner of his mouth. And you immediately wanted to disappear.

How embarrassing, being caught out like that. The blond coach with glasses blew his whistle, and the kids went into a frenzy. You quickly shoved Everett's sneakers into his bag and got your phone out. You took a seat near the other parents while Everett and the other kids all trotted out to the field.

But you could clearly hear the two women behind you whispering. "These coaches are eye candy, Tara! This season is going to be fantastic!"

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

"Here's the full schedule. And you don't have to worry about the theme days, because I already took care of all of them," Bob said, clearly trying to sound reassuring as he handed Bradley packet after packet of paperwork.

"Theme days?" Bradley asked, skimming the calendar.

"Yeah, like there's a day where the kids can wear costumes for practice. Another day where they can dress in their favorite sports shirt. A swim party. Fun stuff to keep them engaged. I already added them to the calendar," Bob said. Bradley just nodded as they made their way back across the field.

But when he looked up toward the bleachers, his eyes caught on something so pretty, he couldn't look away. You were carrying some seriously tall high heels in one hand and a tee ball bat in the other as you made your way toward the huge group of kids.

Bradley should be embarrassed. He really should. He had assured Nat that there was no way he was going to start jonesing for any of the moms. They weren't his type. He never sought them out, and he never ever dated them.

But there was no denying that you were exactly the type of woman he'd try to chat up. You were pretty; god, you were gorgeous. Your suit pants were distractingly tight, and he thought your sneakers looked cute paired with them. He was grinning when you made eye contact with him, and his smile just grew.

He watched you scramble and pull your phone out of your pocket just as Bob blew his whistle, calling the kids onto the field.

"Welcome, Tiny Eagles! I'm Coach Bob, and this is Coach Bradley! Who's excited to be here for tee ball?"

Bradley couldn't help but smile as all of the kids jumped up and down and cheered. Lots of them had cute grins with missing teeth, and Bob's niece Piper was hugging Bob's leg.

"When I point at you, tell us your name, okay?" Bob went through the group of twenty kids, and Bradley would be lucky to remember even three of their names after this first practice.

"Let's get started with some warm-ups!" Bob instructed. "Who knows how to do jumping jacks?"

All of the kids started jumping at the same time while Bradley and Bob tried to get them to count to ten. Their excitement had Bradley smiling and laughing, and at Bob's instruction, he led all the kids in a jog around the bases. When he rounded second base and then third, Bradley had the perfect view of you sitting at the bottom of the bleachers.

You were tucking your hair behind your ear, and he met your eyes again. This time you smiled back before your eyes dipped to the turf in front of you. Then you glanced up again and waved your fingers to whichever kid was yours. Bradley could imagine you waving to him that way. He could imagine you doing a lot of things he might like.

He sighed and joined Bob as he started to get the kids lined up for practice catching. Bradley adjusted gloves on a few kids' hands, and then he knelt down in front of an adorable little boy who had untied laces.

"Hey kiddo, what's your name again?"

"Everett!"

"Right. Everett. Can I re-tie your laces for you? Make them nice and tight? Don't want any injuries so early in the season."

When the boy nodded, Bradley started to tie up the cleats for him.

"I like your Phillies cap. That's my favorite team," Bradley said with a smile.

He watched the kid's eyes grow wide. "Really? It's my favorite team, too! My mom took me to see them play the Padres last year, and they won!"

"Oh yeah? Your mom sounds cool."

He nodded vigorously. "My mom is so fun. She doesn't really know stuff about baseball, but she took me to a bunch of games to see different teams last summer."

Bradley was grinning as he was about to stand. "Which one's your mom?"

Everett turned to look over his shoulder, and Bradley followed his extended finger to where you were sitting. "Over there. In the suit."

Bradley watched you uncross and recross your legs and play with your hair before you glanced up from your phone and found him and Everett both looking at you. A hesitant smile found your lips and you waved again. This time Everett and Bradley both waved back.

"Holy cow, kid. Your dad's lucky."

Everett just gave Bradley a confused look. "Oh, no. He's not fun like her. He doesn't take me anywhere."

"Ready?" Bob called to where Bradley and Everett were chatting. With one final look at you, Bradley stood and led Everett by the hand to where the kids were all lined up along the first base line.

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

So that was Coach Bradley. You didn't seem capable of keeping your eyes off him. Your phone kept buzzing with work emails that you kept ignoring. Any time Everett wasn't engaged in the practice, your gaze drifted to Coach Bradley, his backward hat, and his snug shorts.

The other moms and nannies were all abuzz over the cute coaches, and you were silently agreeing with everything they said.

"They both must be at least six foot two."

"I wonder if they are single. I don't see any rings. God, I hope they are single."

"I'd let Coach Bradley bring his whistle to bed."

When practice ended, you were flushed and warm as you started to gather up Everett's bag. He came running over to you with his arms outstretched for a hug.

"Guess what! Coach Bradley likes the Phillies!"

You laughed as you caught him for a hug. "Does he really?" you asked, glancing to see that all of the moms had swarmed around both of the coaches.

"Yeah! It's his favorite team!"

"Did you have fun then? Tee ball is a success, and you want to come back on Thursday?"

"Yes!"

"Love to hear that. Let's get packed up and head home for dinner."

But Coach Bradley was looking at you again as you tossed Everett's mitt and cleats into his bag. And when you began to turn to head back to your car, he came jogging over to you.

"Hi," he said with a smile. "I didn't get to introduce myself before. I'm Bradley."

He held out his big hand to you, but you felt like you were moving in slow motion now. His voice was so deep and raspy, and his hand was big and calloused. He was so tall, standing right in front of you and smelling like sweat and spicy deodorant. And you didn't even want to get started on his brown eyes and his mustache. You were turned on enough that you feared you might squeak instead of actually speaking, but you did manage to open your mouth and tell him your name as you slipped your hand into his.

"It's nice to meet you," he replied, and your tummy dipped again. "Everett told me you took him to see the Phillies play."

"I did. Last summer. He's baseball obsessed." You were still gently shaking his hand, but he wasn't letting go yet.

"He's a fun kid. Happy he's on my team."

"He likes you already," you said with a smile, and as your hand left his, you missed his warmth right away.

Suddenly Everett popped up next to you. "I'm hungry."

You kissed his forehead and said, "I have snacks for you in the car. And I'll make dinner as soon as we get home. Can you thank your coaches?"

Everett smiled and gave Bradley a high five when he held his hand up. "Thanks Coach Bradley," he said before running off toward Coach Bob.

You went to grab the equipment bag off of the bench, but Bradley reached for it too. "If you're heading out, I could walk up with you." You nodded and let him take the bag as Everett ran back over.

As you scooped up your heels and led the way to your car, you listened to your son ask his coach a string of questions.

"Are we going to do batting on Thursday? What if it rains? Do we get a rain delay? Have you ever won coach of the year? How long have you been a Phillies fan?"

You were just about to tell Everett to chill, but Bradley started to answer all of the questions in stride.

"We are definitely going to have batting practice on Thursday. I'm pretty sure we will just cancel practice if it rains. You don't want your mom to have to sit on a bench in the rain while you have all the fun and get muddy, do you?"

Everett just laughed and shook his head.

Bradley continued. "This is my first time coaching, so no awards yet. And I've been a Phillies fan since I was about your age."

"How old are you now?" Everett asked.

"That's not nice to ask adults, Ev," you said, tossing Bradley an apologetic look.

"What? I just want to know if he's the same age as you," Everett replied. Then he turned to Bradley and said, "My mom is thirty three."

"Everett!"

But Bradley was just laughing. "How about a math problem. What's thirty three plus three?" he asked, but he was still smiling at you as he adjusted his baseball cap.

"Thirty six!" Everett said as you all reached your car.

"That's how old I am," Bradley informed him with a smirk. "And you're very good at math."

"Mom! He's your age!"

"That's enough, Ev," you said, ushering him into the back seat. You took the bag from Bradley and tossed in on the backseat as well.

You turned to Bradley and tucked your hair behind your ear. "Thanks for walking us up. And sorry about the interrogation."

"I don't mind," he said, leaning in closer to you so he could see Everett, and making your breath hitch in the process. "See you on Thursday, kiddo?" he asked Everett, and his neck was right next to your face. He smelled so good.

"See you on Thursday, Coach!"

Bradley opened the driver's door for you, and as you thanked him and slid past, you realized you were more attracted to him after less than an hour in his presence than you were to Frank.

"See you on Thursday," he said before gently closing your door.

As you backed out of your parking spot, you watched him toss some of his gear and his hat into the vintage Bronco. He ran his hand through his hair and waved to Everett who was waving out the window.

"Coach Bradley is so cool."

"I'm glad you liked him," you replied, and you watched him in your side view mirror as he started unbuttoning his jersey. You swallowed hard. "I liked him, too."

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

He's here! He's really here! And I am excited! I hope you liked this first part! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thanks to@mak-32 for the gorgeous banner for this fic!

PART 2

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yanderes-galore · 2 months ago

Note

@an-ambiavalent prompts 12, 19, and 25 with Louis from Beastars, please?

Louis forces his Darling to join the Shishigumi as his partner and is forced to tag along with his plans and comments. It all leads to an argument where the Darling confesses that they hate the life he forced them into because of his selfishness. Louis however makes a point to explain to his Darling that he will always have the final say and that they belong to him, does he really have to remind them of that fact again?

Prompts Here

Sure, here you go! I hope you enjoy it :) I always have no idea if I got him OOC or not....

Yandere! Louis Prompts 12, 19, 25

"I’m only this desperate for you."

"Your happiness, your tears, your love, your hate – all of it belongs to me."

"You shouldn’t have tested my limits."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Toxic relationship, Controlling behavior, Blood, Violence, Murder/Death, Trauma, Kidnapping, There's some physical scenes but he doesn't hit you, Forced relationship.

Two herbivores in a lion's den.

That's how you felt about joining the Shishigumi. You never liked the idea, being an herbivore roaming the black market.... Yet Louis, your boyfriend, insisted you be under his care.

You had begun dating Cherryton's star student months ago. You always found him charming, attractive... and the feeling was mutual. However...

You didn't expect him to drag you into a gang he commandeered....

Louis became much more... controlling after that. Around lions, carnivores, Louis felt he needed to show he was in charge to everyone. He needed to show he was strong and powerful. Which unfortunately led to you two having arguments.

For a while, because you loved Louis, you tolerated it. You put up with his orders and lived in the shadows because you cared. Even as an herbivore, you felt you could handle it because he could.

Then you saw the horrors in the black market.

Everything from herbivore meat to drugs made from carnivores... you've never seen so much blood. Even Ibuki, Louis' right hand lion, became concerned about your mental health. However... Ibuki was not in the position to tell Louis what to do with you.

Nowadays you feel Louis has changed since you two began dating. Ever since he joined the Shishigumi and soon dragged you into it... he wasn't the same animal. No... He can't be if he keeps ignoring you and your feelings.

Arguments grew more and more common between you and Louis. They often start due to the stress you're put through. Like when you have to watch people be shot... or see blood splatter on the floor....

This is not the life you deserve.

But once again... Louis doesn't seem to care.

Another argument occurs as you sit with Louis in his office. He's looking over something at his desk, looking oddly calm. It disturbs you... just like everything else here. From the lions to the meat and blood.

"Just let me leave." You plead suddenly, hoping to convince your fellow herbivore partner to be reasonable.

"No." Louis snarls. "You're meant to be here with me. You're under my protection here."

"Captivity." You correct, causing Louis' eye to twitch. "You're keeping me here. You dragged me here... and for what!?"

"I’m only this desperate for you!" Louis snaps, standing from his desk harshly. You jump back a bit but still glare. "Must we always have this conversation? Must I always remind you, sweetheart?"

"You're more than just desperate." You scoff, standing up. "You're selfish. This is not the deer I fell in love with. You've changed. Can't you see that? Can't you see it's wrong to keep me here?"

"Selfish?" Louis scoffs with a laugh. "Selfish, huh? You think I'm selfish...?"

Louis then comes closer, staring you down. Even now he's an herbivore obsessed with trying to be a predator. Trying to intimidate you into staying with him... much more than genuinely getting you to love him again.

"Maybe I am selfish..." Louis hums with an irritated grin. "Maybe it is selfish to make you love me... to force you beside me... to be in control... but I don't care anymore."

You yelp when he grabs your shirt. It's subtle but you can tell he doesn't want to harm you. He just wants you to focus on him... or he just wants to prevent you from running while he proves his point....

"Your happiness, your tears, your love, your hate – all of it belongs to me." Louis growls, watching as you squirm. "Call it selfish if you want... but I prefer to call it love. I love you... and this is my way of protecting you. I have power here... no matter the means...."

"Love?" You try to pull away, yet Louis doesn't relent. "Louis... I used to love you... but now? I just want to leave... I want to continue my life... I just want you to let me go...."

The deer then pauses, hesitating. It's enough time for you to pull away and back off. Louis looks... lost for a moment. His amber eyes staring at you as he slowly puts his hand down.

Then you see his teeth clench.

"Don't you dare walk out that damn door..." Louis warns, seeing you place a hand around the door knob.

"Don't act like you own me...." You growl, opening the door as Louis stares at you with irritation...

Yet you're then greeted by two lions.

Lions who were seemingly on stand by.

"Bring them back to me." Louis orders coldly, going back to sit on his desk as he watches his two subordinates drag you back and place you on the couch. Louis glances at your fearful expression before clicking his tongue. "Tie their hands and feet, too."

A brief look of pity is given to you by the two lions... but they listen anyways.

You scream and buck as the two lions listen to their leader, restraining you before Louis hums in approval. Louis then gives a wordless command to dismiss them. The lions nod, casting you a glance of concern before leaving the room. The moment the door locks, it's just you and Louis alone in the silence.

"You shouldn’t have tested my limits." Louis sighs, still reigning in his frustration. "Never say such things... You do love me."

"I don't." You remain defiant as Louis heaves a disappointed sigh.

"Fine... Maybe you just need to be reminded that you and I belong together..." Louis threatens, moving off his desk to stand in front of you.

"You aren't leaving this room..." Louis warns, glaring at you as he tilts your chin up to lock eyes with him.

"Not until you learn your place by my side... and we can stop having these irritating conversations."

#yandere beastars #yandere louis #yandere beastars louis

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arenabreadandbiscuits · 8 months ago

Text

Vox x Fem! Reader || Caught In Wires 🔪🫂

Word Count: 2,109

Warning: Possessive behavior, abuse of power, Stockholm syndrome signs(?)

Scenario: Stop running for it is foolish. An animal worth keeping alive knows what its purpose in the end is. Requested from my AO3.

(Note for Requests and Commissions. I'm open to taking requests now but only because I'm trying to grow my accounts. Commissions are still needed and preferred but gotta do what you gotta do I guess. If you want to request then you can buy commissions get done quicker and faster. I'll take six commissions and six requests at a time.

Commissions number currently - 1/6

Requests number currently - 0/6)

Vox is a powerful man, one of the most powerful and that meant that in most of not all cases he tended to get exactly what he wanted.

You had been working for him for a while now. Some silly girl who needed a job when you fell down here and if you weren't blessed with anything else you had managed to be blessed with your skills in combat.

You were a damn good fighter, one who seemed to hold so much potential. You could tear through flesh like a knife through butter, could bite through metal with how competent your teeth and fangs were, and you spilled blood like you had a knack for it.

To see the least, you managed to reel in attention, a lot of it but imaging your surprise when you found yourself face to face with the TV overlord himself, Vox.

He had stood before you, a charming smirk on his face as you kneeled in front of him and you had huffed.

At first, you had been pissed. The last thing you needed was for some overlord to come knocking around and claiming you and yet… that's exactly what had happened. You had been swarmed, collected and kidnapped, a bag being tossed over your head and your hands being tied behind your back. You had spent so much time ducking and dodging these sketchy people, these sketchy places… and yet he had still managed to track you, chase you, and find you.

Vox was a determined mother fucker.

You could give him that, the two of you had a bit of history. History that made sense as to why he's spent all this time looking for you and the reason simply had been that you knew him.

And he knew you.

There was a story there that only the two of you seemed to know about and basically it was that you had known each other for a while now.

It started with you working under Valentino, the bastard. You had refused to give your body over in the aspects that were expected of you and so you had been tossed out. Though, prior to said time Vox… had often come to you.

Speaking with you, touching you, caressing you and you'd be a liar to say that his touch hadn't been the only touch to actually make you feel something in this hellhole.

Honestly being tossed out had been both a blessing and a curse, the blessing being that you had finally escaped… even for just a little bit and the curse was that though you hated that place if there was one thing you missed it would have been him.

The TV overlord himself.

It was irritating, annoying how much time you spent thinking of him. His hands as they held you close or his voice that always seemed to make you shiver. When you ran away there had been many times where you yourself had contemplated if leaving… had actually been the right idea. The right thing to do. Outside of the ghostly touches that seemed to linger it always felt like you were being watched and even you knew that with the amount of surveillance he had, it was only a matter of time before he truly got back to you.

So as he stood before you after the guards were ordered to leave, you huffed, turning your gaze down for a moment to try and avoid that smug look that you knew was already on his face. As expected he doesn't quite allow that as he squats and gently or as gently as he could manage as excitement ran through him and he took hold of your chin. His nails just lightly sink into your skin as he tilts your head up and defiantly, you bare your teeth and fangs. It doesn't seem to do anything but make him chuckle as the two of your eyes connected. Yours narrowed while his… sparkled like a child after finding their favorite toy.

You had seen that look on his face many times now and still it raised the hairs on your neck and made you shiver.

You snap your snap aside, growling and the second time he reaches out to take hold of your face he's not so nice.

His hold is firmer this time, his thumb and pointer finger squished your cheeks and made you pucker and as annoying as it was you couldn't stop the way your face felt a bit warmer. When you had been working he had done this many times, holding you like this enough that it stuck in your head as something that only he was allowed to do to you.

As you look up again you can see that predatory look in his eyes and even with his hold you know he's being patient. His patience was definitely why you had ran to him when working with Valentino had finally drove you crazy. Valentino would have hit you by now, putting his hand on that pretty face of yours in a not so pretty way.

It truly was a blessing in a curse.

“Oh, look what the cat dragged in.” Vox chuckles as he gently pets you, your bound hands being tied behind your back as he of course feels no reason to rush what he's doing. With the two of you here alone now he could spend hours admiring this face of yours without getting tired.

“They do say that lost items do tend to find their way home after a while of being lost.” He says in that eerily calm voice of his, that tone that he didn't seem to use often except for in this situation. Not just that but his eyes are lidded and you can't help but want to keep your own eyes on them just to watch him because at times Vox had and could be unpredictable. Just because he was being nice didn't mean he had to be such and you had seen his interactions with others to know such. Even if he himself didn't lay his hands on you Vox always had the power to order it to be done even by someone else.

He tend not to treat you like that though. Yes, sure he had stalked you and kidnapped you but if anyone was to lay their hands on you then he would admit that he preferred that someone being him. If they were to kiss you, hold you, fuck you then yes… he'd prefer it to be him and as unclassy as it would be for him to harm you in such ways Vox was never against a good well earned punishment. He could put you in your place if he really wanted to, could make you beg for forgiveness with your eyes full of tears if that what he really craved and he did crave such but he did prefer it when your tears came from mind numbing ecstacy instead of earth shattering pain.

So no matter how many times you ran thinking you could actually get away and how angry you seemed whenever the two of you were together, Vox would be patient with you.

Well, sorta patient.

Even good dogs need correction from time to time.

He looks at you for a moment before moving that hand to slowly trail down your neck and you can't stop your own breath from hitching at the touch. You weren't sure if you were just crazy or maybe he had finally managed to get under your skin a little but the feeling of his grip reminds you of the many nights he's used it on you before. A surge of electricity runs through you when his hand wraps around your throat and it's not tight but definitely a good hold, firm and strong. The nights that you found yourself covered in his kisses, in his caresses and as much as you wanted to hate it you had come to really, really enjoy it.

He was crazy, fucking insane and you couldn't exactly tell if you were secretly lucky or very misfortuned.

You could make a guess.

“Fuck you Vox..” you snarled and you could have imagined it but you could have sworn the mother fucker bit his fucking lip just from hearing you say that and there's so much tension in the air that you felt like you could feel in on you skin, taste it on your tongue as you practically spat out his name and before you could even understand it he leans in and presses close.

Something wet and slurpy slides against your bottom lip and you gasp, shock and heat shooting up your spine, eyes widening and it's not until you feel a wet slide that you calculated it being his tongue.

You accidentally moan.

It's wet and warm and long and when you gasped he slid it inside, keeping his lidded eyes open just to watch your reaction. You remembered his taste after all this time and as his tongue slides against and over yours in the lewdest of ways you can't seem to fight off the many memories he left you with of that tongue and its taste and before you can bother to get your scattered brain together you seem to melt. Falling into his hold like a damsel in distress and he was your knight, the one who was here to save you from your own damnation.

It almost felt right, felt…normal. To be here with him, tied up as the two of your tongues tangle and as angry as you are made you really did miss him and so… you can't help but give in, kissing, smooching, sucking on each other's tongues.

You find that there's nothing more you want to do be to reach those bond hands up to touch him, to hold him, to cling to him because after all this time maybe Vox really was your salvation and really he was just trying to remind you of that.

Remind you of the sins that led you to hell to begin with, or the way Valentino had treated you when you were under his rule even and you were sure if he had a point or if you were actually losing your mind but maybe Vox had another point stacked against you.

Maybe you were nothing but a silly woman who need guidance and Vox was one thing but you had been in hell long enough to know that even with who he was… being with him and by his side was a lot better, safer, than bwjng around and with many others down here.

And maybe, just maybe you were tired of fight, of running from him because Vox had also stated many times that you would never get away from him and you were starting to see it over, and over, and over again now. And unholy hell were you exhausted.

You slowly but sure give into his kisses, returning them out of both anger and desperation and all you want to do is have your hands be free so you could jump on him, cling to him like he was the only thing there in this hell but to your dismay and his pleasure, your still bound, even when he pulled away and left you panting heavily for breath that you previously didn't know you'd been missing.

“It doesn't matter how many times you run, I will always come and find you.�� He says with a hum, a low sing songy voice as he caresses your cheeks again, watching as your chest heavily rises and falls and how red your face has grown just from a kiss all on its own. After all, if a kiss could make you blush so easily, imagining your reactions to biting you until you were covered in his marks or to him pounding you pussy open with his cock while you squeeze him only seemed to drive him wild with mad passion and lust.

To put it lightly, you belonged to him and if you needed to be taught such a lesson then he would teach you, over and over again until it finally stuck forever in that precious little head of yours.

“I own you and I'll make sure you know that, my love.” He says with a low and deep chuckle and you feel weak in his hold, useless, discouraged as well as… loved, admired, and adored… interestingly enough.

How were you supposed to make it out of this one?

Even you don't know the right answer right now.

~ ✨

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