#this idea stuck in my head and never left

[pathologicalreid]

the anniversary effect | s.r.

in which the anniversary of reader's assault nears and Spencer would move heaven and earth to make sure she's okay

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: past sa, rohypnol, chemist!reader, technically a continuation of don't get dark, but you don't have to read it first, not proofread because im a freak, panic attack, hydroxyzine, ptsd, read with care word count: 1.96k a/n: @lilacsandlavenderhaze you asked me to tag you when i publish this <3 so here it is <3 also hey guys do we like our summaries in the second or third person?

Spencer looked down at the keypad that would unlock the door to your lab. A custodian had let him in the chemistry building after a slight misuse of his bureau credentials, but he hadn’t realized that he wouldn’t be able to get into the laboratory. Every time he’d been here before, it had been either during working hours or you’d known to expect him. This time, you had no idea he was here.

He'd been looking everywhere for you, and he wasn’t sure why the lab wasn’t the first place he checked. Garcia had checked your phone’s location for him.

He eyed the keypad as if it were an enemy, looking for patterns in which keys were more worn than others, but your lab wasn’t the only one behind these doors. There was no way for him to be sure.

Ten keys mean ten thousand possible permutations, and that didn’t include the possibility that he might need to hit the pound sign or asterisk before or after the code. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he called your cell first—it went straight to voicemail. When he called your lab phone, it rang six times before he was asked to leave a message. He put his phone back in his pocket and tried a number—your birth year—and tried the same number with the pound sign and asterisk.

Spencer ran a frantic hand through his hair. He never should’ve gone on the case. He never should’ve been in Arizona while he knew you were stuck in your own mind. He tried another combination—the year you got your PhD—to no avail.

The two of you had talked about it last week. You started pulling away from him, and he finally commented on your behavior when his hand on your shoulder frightened you so badly that you dropped your favorite mug on the kitchen floor. Thankfully you hadn’t been burnt by any of the hot coffee, but upon discovering the mug was ruined, you were inconsolable. It was as if the broken mug had been your final straw, and Spencer had left for Flagstaff that day.

He tried a new combination—your birth month and date—and the keypad still flashed red. He released a huff of frustration and wondered if it would be fair form to shoot out the lock. Spencer shook his head, dismissing the extreme option from his list of choices before he resorted to wiggling the door handle, hoping the mechanism would fail and he could open the door.

A noise behind him caught his attention. Briefly, he made eye contact with the custodian, a young guy with spiked blonde hair, “Did you forget your ID?” He asked, pulling a wired earbud from his ear and jutting his chin in the direction of the door.

The lie formed in Spencer’s mind, already building a story to run by the custodian in order to get through the doors, “I left it in my office, would you mind?” Spencer gestured to the keypad, hoping he could get the custodian to swipe him through.

“Yeah, sure,” the blonde guy said, stalking over and pulling on his badge reel, swiping his university ID, and opening the door when it finally flashed green. “Have a good night, man,” the employee said, replacing his earbud before returning to his cart.

It was almost too easy to get him to open the door, which Spencer didn’t particularly appreciate. In this instance, it turned out to be beneficial, but he didn’t like that anyone could be let into the labs if they simply looked like they might belong. Instead of griping about it, he thanked him and slipped through the door, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way to your private lab.

You’d taken a new job recently, jumping to a different university in the district where they offered you a private lab for your research, and you seemed happy here. You had all of the freedom you needed to do things like stay at work even as the clock approached midnight. Maybe it was too much freedom, at least for right now.

He opened the door that had your name written across it, slowly stepping into the dark lab as he looked around for you. Spencer didn’t see you, and there weren’t many places for you to be out of view, in the dark, his other senses accommodated the loss of his sight, and his ears pricked when he heard a small shuffle.

Taking another step forward, he peeked around a lab table and found you.

You backed yourself into a corner, leaving nothing but a pile of limbs flush with the cabinet as you sat in silence, either ignoring or unaware of Spencer’s presence. He approached you with the same delicacy that one would approach a doe, he didn’t want to scare you. Hundreds of possibilities flurried through his mind as he crouched in front of you and took notice of the small bottle in your hand.

When you and Spencer had just started dating, before you’d ever been intimate, you’d told him about a time you went out with a group of college friends that ended with one of them attacking you. He drugged you and assaulted you, leaving you with a physical scar on your side and an emotional one on your heart.

Spencer didn’t make a habit of hating people he never met, but he made an exception in this case. He allowed himself to despise this man on your behalf, justifying his emotions every time he remembered how badly the memories made you cry.

It’d been three years, almost to the date since you’d been attacked, and all it took was a good look at the bottle in your hand and he knew exactly what was going on. He read the label over again. Flunitrazepam.

Rohypnol.

“Hey, baby,” Spencer whispered, morphing his tone into something that would suit the atmosphere. He watched your body language, the way your breathing hitched at the sound of your voice.

The despondent look in your eyes snapped into fear before you settled, your shoulders calming down slightly at the recognition that there wasn’t an enemy in front of you. It was Spencer.

Swallowing thickly, he reached out a hand and took the bottle. You tightened your grip on it, not wanting him to take it from you, “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he assured you, “I’m just gonna set this on the counter for you.”

Your grip slackened and he followed through on his promise, keeping a wary eye on you as you looked around the lab, staring at the floor as if it was entirely foreign to you, “I don’t remember sitting,” you muttered aimlessly, looking up at Spencer through your safety goggles. Spencer noticed the way your breathing quickened, “I didn’t— What time is it?”

He shook his head, trying to grab your hands before you pulled them into your lap, he settled for one hand on your knee, something to ground you, “It’s late,” he told you.

“I… I had a meeting with a professor in pharmacology. We were… he wanted to work with me on a project,” you placed your head in your hands, shaking your head like you had lost time. “He’d read my research on the dye they use in Rohypnol to make light-colored drinks turn blue, and wondered if we could find something to color dark liquids like cola.”

It was terrible, atrocious timing on the part of the pharmacist, but he didn’t know any better. Instead of telling you that, Spencer sat down on the floor in front of you, “Baby, do you remember what we talked about last week? Did you call your therapist?”

Nodding absently into your palms, you lifted your head and haphazardly pulled off your goggles, “I saw her today, she talked to me about the same thing you did.”

You and Spencer had an in-depth discussion about the anniversary effect. “It’s okay that you were triggered by a conversation that normally wouldn’t have had such a big impact on your day,” he told you gently, squeezing your knee comfortingly.

“Stop,” you responded, dropping your hand and looking back at him, you set your goggles on the floor and took a deep, trembling breath. “Spence, I can’t—” your voice broke off in a mess of gasps, and Spencer instinctively moved closer to you.

Gingerly, Spencer lifted your chin in hopes that it would open your airway and help your breathing, “I know, baby. I’ve got you,” he reassured you, taking your hands in his when you started anxiously scratching at your forearm. “I’m right here,” he murmured, “it’s me, I’m not going anywhere.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over your hands as he comforted you, whispering sweet nothings to you as he waited patiently for your breathing to even out before speaking again.

“Do you need anything?” Spencer was silently offering you the same three options he always did: space, water, and medication. You had a prescription for hydroxyzine that you were supposed to take as needed, and when you very softly answered ‘pill’, Spencer let go of your hands to go get it from your backpack.

He pulled the bottle from the front pouch and grabbed your water bottle from where it sat in front of your computer, he dosed out one pill and handed it to you, watching you wash it down, closing your eyes, and leaning your head back. “How was work?” You asked.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer smoothed your hair back, “It was fine, we can talk about it later if you want. Right now, I’m focused on you,” he answered, avoiding your redirection.

You nodded in understanding, allowing Spencer to maneuver you when he helped you to your feet.

Spencer cupped your face in both of his hands, “Let’s get you home, huh? Have you eaten?” His brown eyes studied you now that they’d adjusted more to the dark, your under-eye circles looked more pronounced in the moonlight, and he wondered if you’d been sleeping. “I think there’s a bowl of soup with your name on it at home,” he whispered, taking your keys and locking the Rohypnol up in a cabinet.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and Spencer couldn’t help but feel like that was a victory. “I’m okay,” you told him, some strength returning to your voice.

Spencer nodded, sweeping a lock of hair behind your ear, “Let’s get some food in you,” he reemphasizes. He kept your keys in his hand, you took the metro to work, so Spencer could just drive the both of you home. He looked back at the door, watching you as you slowly shut down the lab and gathered your things, “Hey, what’s your code to get into the labs?”

You frowned at him and shrugged, “1-0-2-8,” you told him, powering off your computer monitor and letting him help you pull your jacket on.

His movements faltered, and without a second thought, he carefully wrapped his arms around you. You hummed in response, reciprocating the hug after taking a deep breath. “I love you,” he whispered, tenderly rubbing your back.

“I love you too,” you responded, finally relaxing into him. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” you apologized, loosening your embrace so you could look at him.

He shook his head once, “it’s okay,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Just, next time—well, hopefully there isn’t a next time—answer your phone,” he said, watching you. He’d continue to keep an eye on you, but you were strong. Spencer knew, just like the others, that this storm would eventually pass.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Snowed in

Adar x reader

A meeting with Adar took a quite pleasant turn thanks to bad weather.

Winter was in full swing. Most of Middle Earth's lands already covered in a thick layer of snow.

Mordor was next on the list, the reports of a storm closing in quickly spreading from one uruk town to the other. Some had found their settlements already with a light dusting of powdered snow overnight.

Your new home, once Tirharad and now the main uruk settlement where Adar resided, expected a storm soon.

Everyone was expected to either stay in their homes or at their workplace as to not get caught in the freezing snowfall.

And yet here you sat, patiently waiting for Adar to finish up his task before he'd discuss your needed things as advisor of all things mortal.

"Lord Father, Adar.." You stepped up beside him at the table. "You have been at this for days now, at least let me try to assist to we can discuss our planned items."

You wanted nothing more than to put your hands on his shoulders and squeeze. Undo some of the tension built up over days of not leaving his desk to work through winter plans. But you knew better than to touch him without permission, and you were not in the mood to lose a hand over something as small as this.

"Winter will be harsh. Wirh our current ways we will not have enough food to make it to spring." Adar's head hung low, hands in his hair as he let out a frustrated growl. He was the leader here, their Lord Father who had saved them and now couldn't even manage to get them through one winter after finally settling down..

"Adar, if I may.." With a slight tremble you reached for the papers that weren's stuck under his elbows and looked them over. The amount of details that were thought of, calculated and are being actively monitored were some of the most well done you had ever seen.

"Wait, what if we.." You dlid one of the papers back under Adar's nose, getting his attention once more and started laying down ideas. With each one you could see Adar's ears perk up, no longer drooping in a tired manner.

The ancient uruk was impressed, seeing a positive in this mess now. "So, I take you would have men take care of this? As it is their field of expertise. My uruk know nothing of this, so I also hope you will find someone who is willing to teach them."

Scribbling along, you both crossed issue after issue off the list, solving multiple at once with something as simple as what you suggested. You got so into the task it just kept going and going until a harsh gust of wind broke the door lock, making it slam against brick and have you both rush to close and secure it.

Adar watched you shiver and sulk. It looked like you stared at the storm outside through the wood paneling of the door.

With the door secured, Adar led you to the fireplace. It only downed on him now that mortals handled cold way worse than the uruk, and when your shivering wouldn't stop he offered you a large fur blanket.

Adar gave you time to get back to temperature, but quickly noticed you were too tired to continue your previous task.

All the while, you sat with your gaze on the fire. Your mind racing at how physically close you had been just now with your body between him and the door as he held it closed while you secured the lock. Oh you wanted to endlessly daydream about ways that could have escalated if you just weren't such a coward and confessed how you felt for your leader.

Adar had put your combined works aside for now and stared from a distance. Your tired frame, hunched over near the fire was a view he enjoyed. You fit well in his home, and once more he felt like a part of his mind cleared. He always saw mortals as lower creatures. Perhaps it was a remnant of his elven days that never left as he compared them now to the strength and endurance his uruk had.

But the mortals had smarts, techniques and ways of survival he had never in his long lifetime needed. And somehow he had never filed you together with the others. Not with how you presented yourself and willed to help both halves of this community Adar had built.

No, Adar saw you higher than the mortals, and now started to see a positive in having you as his equal.

There, in the safety of Adar's home, two minds raced. Silence took over the place, only the crackle of the fireplace sounding in the corner.

A contrast lay in the room.

On one end, close to the door and far into the shadow where small tabletop candles had burned out. Where the cold creeped through the cracks in the doorframe stood Adar, who's mind fought wether the human would even care for the ancient monstrosity rhat had captured her and forced her to live in his wretched lands.

Words of his children floated by. Words of his affection towards the mortal advisor. He had always dismissed them, for he knew he respected her for her openness towards the uruk, and her clear vision of how the two kinds would live alongside. But his uruk felt it was affection. Some even dared to call it love and it had Adar almost act on their teasing multiple times, but always shut it down just in time for her not to notice.

And on the other, covered in firelight and warmth sat you. Head unable to stop screaming to pull him towards you into the comfort of the blankets you sat on.

Voices of the many female uruk you spend time with spoke all at once. The eldest ones who joked about your longing stares. And the ones who you assumed shared your age, who made every suggestion under the hidden sun to get his attention. To go talk to him and charm him. To wear that pretty dress and seduce him. Surely Adar would be excited to lay with a pretty lady in a pretty dress, as they said.

But why would a being with such skill and life experience, with such knowledge and power be interested in a mere mortal? It was your last thought before your body gave in to sleep.

Adar didn't need sleep as much as you did, so he sat and watched you, read once again over your scribbled notes until he heard something.

You were shivering. The fire had gone down to smoldering coals and he had barely noticed the change in temperature. Yet you suffered in the cold.

With a new plan in mind Adar moved to the bedtoom, where he rid himself of his armor and left him in just his trousers and undershirt. Bare feet padded along the wooden floorboards on his way to pick you up. His bed was warmer, and if he took the furs you had already laid on and warmed with yoir body heat he could make sure you stayed warm.

You hadn't stirred awake during his process which eased his mind, but still you would not stop regain warmth. He had stayed inthe room with you, watching to calm his own mind that cursed at him for failing you so badly.

He thought of his children. Hoe would they respond if they knew their Lord Father was failing at the simple task of keeping the mortal from freezing.

His children.

The youngest ones who'd all pile up together and huddle up for warmth, sharing body heat.

Lords, he was an idiot.

What? No. There was no way you'd be okay with it. You'd wake up and demand to leave, unable to be that close to a foul creature like himself.

He had to. He knew it would work, so pushing every burning curse from his mind he removed his shirt, laid it over the furs you slept underneath and used all he had left of his elven self to be as light on his feet as he could, crawling into bed with you.

You stirred. You woke up and Adar mentally tore himself to shreds for ruining your sleep.

"Adar?" You didn't dare to turn and look, and a confirmed hum made it so you didn't need to.

"You were cold. I hoped to keep you warm." In his anger he disconnected himself from you and earned a sad almost whine, feeling you press your back against his chest once more and grabbing to find his arm and pull it against you.

Adar's arm. The one you had never seen uncovered, always hidden underneath long sleeves and that large gauntlet.

"Thank you." A quiet mumble was all you managed, Adar's warmth already affecting you. Not that he had heard you. Not with his full focus on your fingers tracing his twisted, scarred arm with the most gentle touch he had ever felt.

So there it was. The one action that disspelled his demons shouting he would never be loved by another. You cared for him like he cared for you.

With a soft, shaky breath he pressed his lips against the back of your head. "Sleep well." He uttered against your scalp, pulling you tighter against him and nuzzling into you.

It was overwhelming, how you were being handled so gently and with such love. So your differences never truly mattered after all.

You both slept better than ever. So much that you slept long past the storm outside, much yo the worry of Adar's children.

Glûg was the one tasked with checking on him whenever he did not show up and dared not to wake you both.

Once the two of you had gotten ready to leave the house, the whole town was in celebration of their Lord Father finally having taken home the fair mortal lady.

And the women happily informed you of uruk breeding habits, leaving you red-faced and fleeing the scene.

[antizenin]

𑁤 ONE KISS AWAY FROM LOSING YOU ⋮ NANAMI KENTO

THIS JUST IN . . . nanami kento has been caught booking a hotel room with a mystery person. we couldn't capture a clear photo of the person, but it's definitely someone not in the royal family's caliber. who could it be?

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, nanami kento, angst & sexually explicit | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 2.1k words !

➛ prince!nanami kento, afab!reader (she/they), nickname: love/my love, secret relationship, pleasure dom!nanami, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, praise, not proofread.

SECRET ROMANCE BREWING? NANAMI KENTO CAUGHT WITH A MYSTERY BEAUTY!

By Gojo Satoru | May 5, 2024

While the past few months have been a bit lackluster when it comes to the Nanami’s, this week I’m happy to report something very enticing to our readers’ eyes. Just two days ago, the young prince, Nanami Kento, was seen entering the extravagant hotel, the Renaissance, with a hand clutching onto his forearm. Not dressed in his usual pristine attire, I nearly missed him, but I’d  recognized those bulking arms and stark blonde hairs from anywhere. (It was also his signature round glasses that gave him away.) 

The mystery beauty by his side, however, was able to keep a much more discrete profile. With a hoodie on, they kept their heads down as they entered the beautiful hotel. With some dignity and honor, I had left the two alone to enjoy their time together (and because the prince is quick on his toes), but it’s no doubt what they’re going to do. Nanami Kento is regularly discussed as a man that goes by the books. Rarely shed in any negative light— minus the rumors that he’s a stuck up snob and thinks highly of himself— people have been speculating when this clean streak of his would come to an end. I’m just happy I’m the one to document it. 

For more news on the world of the royals, rich and famous, please subscribe to our newsletters or download our app through Gyomei Plays for a discounted price of $0.15/month. Get sizzling news on not just the Nanami family, but hear on what Duchess Maki is up to and about her solitary confinement after murdering the majority of her family after the passing of her late twin Zenin Mai, or snoop into rising Indie artist, Geto Suguru, and how his new album is turning out. I hope to bring you more tantalizing articles very soon. (Hopefully unveiling the mystery partner of ex-goody-too-shoes Nanami Kento.)

—

MAY 3, 2024

Nanami Kento has never been in love before. Has never allowed himself to. He knew that this life he was born into wouldn’t allow for it. Keeping his heart chained and locked, he couldn’t quite understand just how you managed to find the key. And his mind couldn’t wrap around the idea of just how easily he had given in to you. 

Is it because of your glistening smile that your eyes and lips that you did when he first met you? A simple waitress that was doing their job in the fancy restaurant that his parents had reserved a table for. His parents had requested for the best and in return, had gotten you. The dark bags under your eyes was enough evidence of your exhaustion, yet you kept such a relaxed yet kind tone even when his parents were snipping at you. They could never be satisfied. 

Is it your voice and how you carried such a melodic laugh? He had made a comment about one of the choices on the menu, making a snide remark about oysters and just how he couldn’t escape them. It was under his breath. Truthfully, he didn’t expect you to hear it, but you did and you had let out the cutest laugh with a subtle snort at the end that led his parents to grimace. However, the two corners of his lips had curved upwards and he started showing more interest.

Is it because even in dim lighting, you still managed to shine? That while he broke his internal promise with himself as he got to know you, no matter where the two of you went, you managed to be the center of attention is his mind? From renting out places for the day to spend time with you to booking hotel rooms to enjoy the night in each other’s arms, he’s come to memorize every course of your body. He’s memorized every curve and every angle that he needs to put you in for the light to hit just right to continue to make you flourish. 

Even in moments like this, where he’s checked the both of you in and has led you upstairs. Making a few wrong turns before arriving at the room and hastily opening the door, where he gently pushes you on the bed and captures you with the length of his body. He switches on the bed lamp because he wants to see you. He wants to look into your eyes as he breaks his promise over and over again, falling deeper for someone that he knows that in the end, he’ll have to let go.

—

No matter how habitual it is, you find yourself giggling into the gentle and feathery kisses Nanami places on your lips. And no matter how habitual your giggling is, Nanami can’t help but peer down at you every time you do so. The way your nose would scrunch together as your small laughs make his heart race. From small pecks to elicit more sounds to swallowing them up and dragging a moan out of you instead. One hand that caresses your face while the next holds onto your waist, traveling down to unbutton your pants. Loosening its grasp, Nanami dips his hands between the hem of your pants and underwear, feeling your bare skin against the palm of his hands. Your stomach tenses with anticipation as you continue to kiss him back.

Your hands tangle into his blonde locks, squirming underneath Nanami as he nears your core. Yet, he stops right as he’s a mere centimeter away, dragging his hand out and gripping onto the fabric of your bottoms. You whine despite his tugging against your clothes, wanting the touch of his fingers against your cunt— to feel his thick digits stretch your tight walls. Just the thought alone has your arousal seeping through the crotch of your underwear as your hips forcibly rise above the sheets as Nanami pulls off the tight-fitted pants. 

“God,” he huffs. “As much as I love these on you, I hate the trouble I’m going through to remove them.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re not as strong as you look, big boy,” you jest, gently jabbing at his chest; his still clothed chest that vibrates as he chuckles. And while he might say your smile is glistening, his is your entire world. Such a stoic man portrayed by the media, you consider every chance you get to make him smile a blessing. Just as hard as Nanami’s falling hard for you, you’re trapped in the clutches of how strong your love for him is as well. You yearn for him just as much as he does— if not more. 

It’s not because of his socioeconomic status within society. It’s because of his brown eyes that are like a hot cup of coffee. Piping hot as just one sip will rejuvenate every bone in your body, giving you the energy to keep going. When you stare into them, it’s as if your lifespan has extended exponentially. He’s given you life. That itself is all the power that you need.

So attentive and genuine with each and every action he makes. You don’t care about the price tag listed upon every gift he’s given you, but the practicality and meaning each of them have. He’s listened to you, followed all of your “pointless” ramblings about the things you like and dislike. He’s shown interest in all of your hobbies and quirks, and in return you do the same. And whether or not you both end up liking it, you both enjoy the quality time spent together. Because who knows how long this will last.

“You’re right,” Nanami chuckles in agreement. “I’m always weak when it comes to you.”

You shutter before whispering, “I hate how you can make something so corny sound so seductive.”

With yet another chuckle, he leans down; his lips ghost yours. “I try.”

—

You’ve come to realize that Nanami is a relentless man. Two strong hands that have your legs pinned up and pressed to your chest. A painful and compromising position, your muscles ache as your pussy is exposed all for Nanami to inspect. Brown eyes that seem captivated and mesmerized by how your juices have clung to your folds, making your cunt shine like porcelain. You crane your head to look down at him, gnawing on your bottom lip as you watch his thumb press down on your clit.

Your heart beat rises, pattering heavily against your chest as you watch the man dip lower to taste your pussy. A chaste kiss planted before his tongue teases and prods at your hole. A hum that reverberates against his chest as he instantaneously decides— delectable. His lips that pucker around your clit, sucking on your dark nub as your mouth falls open and your head falls back. Your toes curl as you feel Nanami knead at the skin of your thighs while simultaneously eating away at you. His eyes have fluttered shut to further savor your taste. 

His tongue explores your caverns and you pulsate around the feeling, closing your eyes shut to engrave this moment in your soul. You mewl and whine, calling out his name in such prosody.  Your hands travel to tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging at them as your pleasure grows stronger. Nanami grunts at the pain you cause. 

Eyes opening, you peer down at Nanami, watching how his muscles flex and contract as he holds you down. How he has his face buried between your legs as he laps up your pussy with an insatiable need. He barely comes to a stop before one of his hands leaves the comfortable position of holding you up to slot in between your lips. Two thick digits that glide in between your folds, collecting your juices before prodding right at your entrance. You clench needily as you wait in anticipation for the stretch they’re going to give you. Mewling out his name “Kento” in such a way before your grip on his hair tightens. You don’t have to say anything else. The tone in your voice is all that he needs to decipher what you want— you want more. And Nanami Kento is always too willing to give you whatever you want. He’d give you the world. 

Two knuckles deep into your pussy, the juices of your cunt seeping into the fabric that Nanami feels bad for the maid that’ll be left to clean up their sex-induced mess. You squirm in his hold, back slightly arching despite the hold he has on you with one arm. His fingers thrust in and out of your sex, unrelenting as he’s determined to bring you to yet another orgasm. Such a messy process unbefitting for a prince, but the lust tinting his eyes lets you know there’s no going back from this. 

“Kento,” you cry out, feeling his fingers curl inside you. Your swollen clit is still in the mouth of a dragon as he claws at the insides of your walls. “‘S too much! Please— please!”

Your words say one thing while your body says another. Your hands push him closer to your mound despite your squirming, an internal battle that you’re having with yourself. And sometimes he’s convinced himself that only he knows just what you need. He breaks away for a moment, lust-blown eyes with your slick coating the bottom half of his face. Nanami says, “it’s okay. I know you can take it. I know you take whatever I give you.”

His voice dips, becoming deeper than it already is. It has your stomach coiling as you feel that familiar heat as your nails dig into his scalp. Against your pussy, he breathes, “Fuck.”

“‘M g’nna— I’m—” 

Nanami coos, silencing you as your lips tremble. “Shhh… It’s okay, love. I got you.”

Your mouth goes dry, only able to croak out a few undecipherable noises before you’re cumming against his tongue. Nanami laps up your taste, cleaning you up with the pink muscle inside his mouth. When you come down from your high, your voice trembles as you mutter, “Kento, I love you.”

His heart pounds against his chest. While not the first time you’ve said this, it still elicits this reaction. He stammers, not because he doesn’t mean it, but because he does, too. He’s just got too much. “As do I, my love.”

—

“Y’feel so good,” Nanami breathes in the crevice of your neck, hips thrusting back and forth as your moans and whines fuel the room. “You always feel so good.”

His once perfectly kempt is now messy, hanging over as he rises from the crook of your neck. A hand comes up to caress your face as his brown eyes meet yours, staring at each other with such heavy longing. “Gosh, you’re so beautiful.” Your eyes crinkle, welling up with tears that threaten to spill. You can’t quite identify the reason for them. Are they for this overwhelming amount of love or is it for the fear of the future? “So are you, my prince.”

[pixeltwix]

-Unrelated McGucket Ramblings

Because my mental illness is metal illnessing my brain has been having a wonderful time combining interests. Specifically gravity falls and the Odyssey of all things?

The parallels between Fiddleford, Emma May, and Tate -& Odysseus, Penelope, and Telemachus is driving me bonkers. EVERYTIME I hear songs like ‘There Are Other Ways’, ‘I’m Just A Man’, and ‘Love in Paradise’ I can so vividly see Fiddleford so ardently longing for home, for his wife, for his son, but something or some event keeps pulling him back every single time he has a mind to just go home. I can’t help but let my head make the connections and rewire silly lyrics to fit closer together than I already feel they are.

‘Back at home my wife awaits for me, she’s my everything, my Emma May. And she’s all my power, all my power, but it’s been (x) long years. Oh (x) long years since I have seen my wife, and now the god of (chaos) is out to end my life-“

Additionally while I do not see Emma May as Calypso to any degree, her few lines in ‘Love in Paradise’ stuck out so hard to me if it was outside of the context of Calypso & Odysseus’s no good very bad situation. Just the-

“It will be fine dear, come back inside dear, love of my life come back to paradise. I know your life’s been hard, I’ll stay inside your heart. I love you my dear, I love our time here, life would be so much worse if you had died. Please stay away from harm, stay in my open arms.”

Is SO POST FIRST PORTAL TESTING FIDDLEFORD CODED- when Emma May finally comes up for herself to check on him in Gravity Falls and sees his condition. I refuse to believe for a moment that she didn’t at least try to understand what was going on before fearing for her and her sons life. Finding her husband most likely stumbling around like he doesn’t even know himself or where he is, trying to soothe and bring him back to her. And at first it seems like it’s working, like he’s slowly piecing together what she’s putting down, but then he’s sparking, spiraling again. She tries a final time to coax him from whatever whirl of madness he’s gotten himself into, but it never gets better. In fact it keeps getting worse. But just the vISUAL ALONE of her with that part of the song trying to bring him away from harm all the while he’s still deeply haunted with the ‘all I hear are screams’. AHHH-

Additionally the narrative of Penelope stalling her suitors for YEARS because she’s hoping, praying, that her husband is still alive, still out there somewhere. That maybe just maybe he’ll come home. I am screAMING and pointing at the Emma May core of it all. I’ve been meaning to develop elderly FiddEm dynamic be it platonic for the sake of recovery, but my biggest thing with her design is despite after all these years she sTILL carries aspects of her husband with her. Be it wearing his old specs he left at home or still keeping her floral motif with her brooch. She still loves him deep down- she always will, and she’s always gonna mourn the life that could’ve been if Bill hadn’t been involved, but still. Keeping him as apart of her even if she ‘hated’ him for so long kept her going.

Also idk plus just the-

‘Hell no, I could kill you where you stand. I’m no pet, I’m a married man.’

Is silly to me because I know it would be very ooc for Fiddleford to have THAT much bite even if he is capable of ‘lashing out’. Regardless it’s still amusing brain movie content to envision-

If I didn’t already have so many other ideas on hand I’d draw this all myself, but raaaaa so many other concepts I wanna draw first :(

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: On the Run AU! (bluegiragi’s: Monster AU)

You realizing that you chose to be stuck with them

Masterlist here! | OG Idea here!

Song Inspo for this hehe:

Tw: 18+ MDNI | Sexual Implications | Stockholm moments

“Thinkin’ about you, you’re in my head”

There’s never a moment when they aren’t— not with them being with you in every single moment at every open opportunity.

You, their pretty little bird stuck in a cage called their mansion, were never alone.

From waking up in the arms of a wraith, with the chill seeping into your skin to the warmth that envelops your face every time the dragon exhales in a snore— your life simply revolved around them.

Your scent just littered with a toxic mix of them.

And when you finally get that solitude in the bathroom, head under water as you try to sink into the feeling of entering the vast nothingness which you imagine calling the ocean- which, in actuality, is just your bathtub- made you think.

Think of the life you once had.

But it comes up empty.

Except for the moments you share with the guys ever since you arrived at their mansion.

Soap would always encircle you with his presence, nose simply attached to the skin on your neck and arms usually found around your midsection, hands steadying at your hips.

And you wonder how it felt so cold without him during nights in the arms of the others— his alternate form giving you the right amount of comfort and temperature that makes you slumber instantly, yet waking up to the intruding thought of wanting more.

Gaz would often be at your side cooking and grooming. His food always so delicious and scrumptious— just to what you were craving off. He would gently prod your mouth open, a piece of food between his claws as he gently guides it to your anticipating self— suddenly being and wanting to be satiated by something more.

This makes you see how much you’re relied on him to feel confident in yourself when you look at your reflection in the water or even at the vanity angled across you.

You realize how bathing felt less like a chore with him, as Gaz acts as your buffer between showering to take your mind drift and to bask in the pleasure he’d routinely for you.

Price is man that you ended up caring more than you’d like, with him acting as everyone’s support in moments of strife. He’s the type who would let you love him.

Constantly asking for your alliance and the mind games they were playing made you… stay and play another day for your survival.

Price offers that external protection which makes you feel safe enough with a bunch of simple clothes that is forcing his hand and making it perforates in your mouth.

Ghost, on the other hand, is gentle. Carrying stuff for you, leaving lingering shadows that monitor you when you’re left alone so he can swoop in at the right moment.

Ghost is a handful, and it is telling how much so by the mark left— especially on your upper middle of your thigh. He is possessive, so much so that he would rather leave and find another.

Ghost lets you do whatever, under the guise of regaining your freedom but in actuality, you tasted water— letting you partially taste it and go madly drunk regardless whether Simon had tampered with enough so he could keep you and still as it closed relief.

From the on, you wonder about a life without them when they’re right there.

All of it coming crashing down as the evening delays further into the night, with you being pulled out of the bath by Simon and fixed up by Gaz.

And you find it hard in yourself to pull away- to feel disgusted when they’ve been nothing but caring since the beginning.

At that thought, maybe you should have started becoming more intimate and open to talks but…

Oh.

They were just waiting for that singular “okay” before they all pounced on your parts like its there was no tomorrow.

And you think.

In a breathless whisper of each other names, makes you think how this isn’t too bad, that a life as theirs was now your very lone option.

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

The last one I did may have been in September. 👀 Been a long time. Haven’t really been writing much fanfic. Stuck on different papers for school. I was tagged by @evolnoomym and she shared ideas so I will too! ❤️ @pr3ttynpiink also tagged me and looks to be cooking up some fun new fics. 🥰

I want to write something for Modern Din and Christmas to go in my series: This is the Neighborhood Din, but it will likely need a chapter between that to make sense. (Every so often I care about making sense). Also more Luke doing Jedi yoga on his lawn and Poe & Finn being boyfriends because I want it all!

I need to write a new chapter of Weddings 101 with Dieter. Kinda left on a cliffhanger and a lot happened in my mind that should be posted 🤣

There’s a little over a month until the DMAMC 2025 challenge is due, haven’t written anything. Actually forgot about it, but fear not! I’ll think of something. 👀 My character is Pero Tovar (I doomed myself by picking him 😭 like the level of difficulty). But maybe I’ll revisit a pairing I’ve done.

Random but working on a Baldur’s Gate 3 fic and bugging @perotovar (Erin beta read for me what I have so far), @megamindsecretlair reads the snippets I send her and @soft-persephone looks at the pics I send her and is honest 🤣🤣🤣). Everyone’s favorite moody (for many a legit reason) and murderous pale elf who’s a vampire Astarion and an OFC. Things that happened between these two: a lot of staring, mocking Gale (everyone’s favorite past time- he makes it easy but also the wizard is really nice insane like everyone else but nice), drying some hair, hugs and some tears. Lots of angst, fluff and comfort. Haven’t decided on smut yet, is likely but I’ll see how it reads.

Didn’t realize that A Safe Place for Us was up to chapter 7 on AO3 and only 5 on Tumblr 👀 My bad. I should be able to post one chapter on here before November ends. The formatting and graphics take me the longest. 🤓

I also have a secret Santa fic things I’m supposed to be working on for a discord group but I also have not started. 👀 Unsure of which direction it should go in. I’ll figure it out, eventually I think.

The first paragraph of chapter five of “A Safe Place for Us”:

Waking up to Dieter takes getting used to for Aisha. It’s not unwelcome, she’s just not used to someone clinging to her like he does. Every morning he stays at her apartment is one where he has his arm and head somewhere on her. Chest, stomach, thigh, back, ass one time because he enjoys scissoring her entrance wider and scooping his spend that drips out of her back in before pumping his fingers to stir his cum within her.

Yeah…chapter five is…a ride so to speak. 👀 Forgot we had a strong start.

I found a WIP that contains Marcus Pike angst:

His romantic relationships and come and gone just like yours but you always had each other. Though, you treated yours as ways to work off the need you felt for your friend. To distract yourself, even when you were with your other partners, you’d think of him during the throws of passion, even when having simple meals and they may chew too loudly. You loathed your behavior toward your partners and your friend, biting your lips to not utter his name while under someone else.

“Marcus…”

Is the only name you want to say but can’t.

Hmm….might be a good holiday one or something. 🤔

That’s the ideas for now. Always a lot and never finished. ✅ Would it be Nerdie if they were? 😎

Have a happy Thanksgiving, holiday, days off of work and stay safe!

NPT: @chaithetics @schnarfer @inept-the-magnificent @yopossum @djarinmuse @604to647 @secretelephanttattoo @magpiepills @maggiemayhemnj @murder-wife @sin-djarin @syd-djarin @morallyinept @westside-rot @tinytinymenace @sunshinehaze1 @soft-girl-musings @goodwithcheese @jolapeno @bluestar22x @clawdee @romanarose @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @bitchwitch1981

[timxpy]

NPD SOUL PROPAGANDA IS SUCCESSFULY WORKING ✅✅✅

As a person with npd I always just need to have one (head)canon npd character in any fandom or else I can't really enjoy it. BUT SOUL IS REALLY SO NPD CORE DHJDJSJSDJFJJFJG I JUST CAN'T SAY HOW MUCH I RELATE TO MANY OF MY NPD HEADCANONS OF HIM.

I think that he has like a lot of narcissistic crashes (I don't even know who wouldn't have them if they were stuck with two ABSOLUTELY INSUFFERABLE GUYS). Heart and Mind always arguing, they rarely listen to Soul and that's why all of he's ideals (which are VERY important for any person with npd) just left unheard and ignored. Nobody will show just a little bit of respect to him. Honestly I don't even know when this guy will finally have narcissistic highs (looks like never)... And persons with npd still really often have a lot of bpd traits sooo I guess he even might have both of this disorders...

NPD MIND IS ALSO SO REAL. Honestly I must say that he's probably the most narcissistic one of all three (I don't count Whole, at least for now)... Think about emotions like weakness is really common for npd too (at least I often have episodes with these thoughts and I heard about similar experience from some other people with npd. And also thoughts about that just really sounds like something like npd). But tbh I don't relate to Mind as much as I relate to Soul... Idk why because usually I relate to characters with only npd / characters with npd + aspd (I don't have aspd but I think I have a lot of its traits).

HMMM, ASPD HEART. I didn't think about this idea really much but this sounds like a theme for a big analysis. STRONG AND UNCONVENTIONAL MORAL CODE MY FAVORITEEE PART OF ASPD CHARACTERS. And it just explains like really many things in Heart's behavior so right. I also thought about hpd Heart but I think I was in a little but wrong condition and didn't really analyse him right. Aspd + hpd combo won't sound really wrong for him (honestly I can't remember any headcanon on any character with this disorders combo. Maybe it's me way too forgetful or idk). We actually need more hpd headcanons, people ignore this pd sm.

And if we talk about not only personally disorders but disorders in general... I REALLY THINK THAT SOMEONE OF THEM MIGHT HAVE OCD. And idk it just fits them all right.

Heart looks like really anxious person with more obsessions than compulsions for me. Also if we think about him as a person with aspd i guess obsessions will be often somehow connected to his strong moral code beliefs. If we talk about compulsions... Again, I think he has more obsessions than compulsions, but when he actually have the second things it'll take really long time to complete all this rituals.

If we talk about ocd Mind... I think he'll be really irritated because of obsessions. Not only because they're really messing person's life (I hate my own obsessions so much fr) but because persons with ocd can often say about how their obsessions are irrational (I often think like that too and sometimes people use this to demonize ocd and it's ABSOLUTELY AWFUL URGHHH). Just think about super "rational" guy having disorder with "irrational" symptoms. I think it'll also fit npd headcanon of him, I think sometimes he might even have narc.crashes because of his obsessions.

And we talk about ocd Soul... Again, I just associate him with myself so much and that's why I have an ocd headcanon of him too! I just think he would have a lot of obsessions about his ideals and how they're always ignored. And his compulsions will look really strange to many people (remember never say to person with ocd that their obsessions are strange, NEVER).

I hate this stigma so much. Many people just can't understand that person with disorder don't always do bad thing and that people without disorders can do bad things too! This is so annoying and frustrating sometimes ughhh.

bpd soul propaganda

his relationships with heart and mind are extremely tumultuous. he alternates between encouraging support and harsh criticism. he wants them to be close and loves them, but he's easily frustrated by their conflict and despises them for it.

he seeks a stability that seems impossible for him to achieve. when he doesn't feel like he can be stable, he threatens suicide because it feels like his only option. suicidal and self-destructive behavior is really common in bpd, especially in response to interpersonal distress and instability.

he has very little sense of self. identity isn't something he feels like he has the right to have (since personal separation is contradictory to trying to be Whole), but also, it seems like something he just can't get a grip on even if he tried.

I think that he has extreme attachment issues in concord. he's terrified that things will go wrong again, worried one of them will get hurt or disappear whenever he's not keeping an eye on them. he wants to know exactly where they are and be told when they're leaving because otherwise he'll panic about their absence.

on that note, his fears of hurting them or ruining things when things seem stable are something a lot of people with bpd struggle with. there's this underlying fear that the things "inherently wrong with you" will ruin everything you touch, either because of personal experience or internalized demonization.

if you headcanon Whole as a distinct person, that would be his favorite person. the extreme, almost religious idealization and having your entire sense of self revolving around a person (or really, the perception of perfection you have of a person) is a clear sign of having a favorite person. the abandonment issues would also be the worst with Whole, for obvious reasons

also i think it would be neat if this was a more widespread concept

[quicklyshinycollectorfan]

“Regulus is a lion” “Regulus is a black cat”

You are all wrong, terribly wrong

Regulus is a hamster

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[beeapocalypse]

haunted once more by a dumb character idea

[spiderziege]

i think one day ill have to actually make a german mcyt history chart but i keep falling down rabbit holes

[baelavelaryon]

hey girl did you know that uhh i can't help thinking that she's got a better body, has she got a body better than mine? i can't help thinking when you touched it were you sorry? were you sorry like you weren't at the time?

[cinnabeat]

ohh im watching the khux fandub rn and got hit with The Mysterious Box again and now im left bereft with the need to know

[lexcys]

★ observing rafe cameron x reader

summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were

a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered

you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices

stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived

you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye

rafe cameron

somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends

while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you

she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground

''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun

''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again

glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off

''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie

all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know

you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity

taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand

even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing

rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring

you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy

he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?

it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him

cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier

you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode

hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin

while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging

fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe

it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty

you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile

noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped

at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance

given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact

heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right

after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder

you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly

examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you

this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control

strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruthie with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kelce talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering

walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding

the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored

before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile

relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom

he must’ve left already, right?

''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door

your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom

''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit

you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around

immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face

''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back

''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''

you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''

''ditto'',

apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily

''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''

letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it

if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'

you nod quickly, meeting his gaze

looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge

taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head

he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer

''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit

you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book

like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe

for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you

but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,

''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''

oh

[neo-nomatrix]

CAN’T TOUCH ME LIKE GOJO

what gojo does when he’s jealous

cw - gojo uses red as a punishment, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, riding, teasing, kinda toxic gojo idk, bratty reader, rough gojo

Gojo was making you mad, beyond livid. He had brought you to this stuffy gala full of his balding colleagues and ditched you! You found solace in the bar holding an aperol spritz staring at your husband. He was beautifully dressed cream suit with a million dollar smile as he talks to his coworkers about business.

He hasn’t even thrown you a glance since he left your side. Normally you would still be next to him acting as arm candy but for whatever reason he left you to drink your sorrows. You assumed you would be stuck there for another hour or two with nothing to do. Until Hiromi Higuruma approached you. A man you had no idea was even distantly related to Gojos company.

“Mrs.Gojo, a pleasure seeing you somewhere besides with Satoru,” The man teases.

“Hiromi! Are you here to save me from this awful night?” It seems the lord has answered your prayers.

“You’re not enjoying yourself? Doesn’t Gojo normally keep by him at all times?” He asks, taking a seat next to you.

“Something’s up with him I guess, I’ve barely seen him all night and it’s horrible!” You complain.

“Oh sweetheart, how could he possibly treat someone as pretty as you like that?” He moves a piece of your hair out of your face and stares at you.

“I know! I mean he invited me here, and then has the audacity to leave me,” You pout to him.

“For the record, I would never treat you like that,” he smiles at you.

You look over at Gojo and he still isn’t looking in your direction. You decide to tease both the men a little more.

“Really? Do you promise ‘Romi?” You give him your best doe eyes and touch his bicep.

“On my life, sweetheart,” You both smile at each other.

In the corner of your eye you see a head of white hair coming toward you. Panic sets in but you can’t help but rub your legs together. You continue putting your hands on Higurumas chest to further instigate the situation.

“Babe, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Gojo pulls the back of your stool so you can’t touch Higuruma anymore and he wraps a large hand around your waist, “Higuruma, you’re also here.”

“I was just talking to your gorgeous wife Gojo. After you left her alone to talk to those gross executives,” Higuruma says.

Gojos jaw clenched and he squeezed your waist. His look of disgust apparent on his face.

“I think it’s about time my wife and I leave. Should I call you a cab Higuruma?” Gojo says.

“I’ll be alright,” Higuruma laughs.

Gojo pulls you away from the bar and quickly takes you away from the party. He ignores everyone asking where he’s going or trying to talk to him. Immediately as he reaches the car he opens and slams the door for you. He doesn’t speak a single word on the way home, despite your efforts to start conversation.

As you reach your home he’s immediately getting you through the door and up the stairs, he shoves you onto the bed as he removes his jacket. You hear him muttering swears under his breath.

“Do you enjoy being a slut who pisses me off? Hm? I mean really, what possibly do you get out of this?” He starts to undo the first few buttons of his shirt before he grabs your chin.

“I asked you a fucking question,” He growls at you.

“You left me! You left me all alone! I don’t know what you wanted from me, to just sit there twiddling my thumbs until you came back?” You argue at him, giving a big pout.

“What I don’t want is for you flirting with that piece of shit in front of everyone? You know how embarrassing that is, not only for me, but for you?!” He slips off his boxers to reveal his semi hard cock.

He pulls you up and puts you on your knees. He’s on his back and your face is inches away from his cock. But before you can wrap your lips around him something stops you. A force you can’t describe, red. He activated his repelling force to punish you.

You’re confused, upset, even angry at him. His usual punishment involves him overstimulating you but apparently not this time. You try to get past the barrier, using all your might to touch his cock. Yet nothing works, he’s the strongest after all.

“What did he call you?” He asks you, releasing red for you until you almost touch him, then activating it again.

“Sweetheart…” you whisper to him.

“And you fucking let him. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. I know he can’t have you, fuck, he knows it. But it doesn’t seem like you do,” He says back, piercing blue eyes scanning your face.

You crawl on top of him, the barrier between your pussy and his cock still apparent. You try desperately to grind down on him to no avail. Tears start to form in your eyes but Gojo doesn’t seem to care.

“You want it inside you, sweetheart? Or do you want ‘Romi?” He mocks you.

“YOU! I just wanted your attention, promise! I got so mad you left me by myself. See?! All i want is you,” You whine as Gojo smiles at you.

In a moment the red hue turns blue and you get sucked down onto his perfectly aligned cock. You’re stuck to him like a magnet. His size makes you scream and want to pull away, but you can’t. As soon as you pull away you’re sucked back onto him, you thought torture wasn’t supposed to be addicting.

“Fuck Higuruma, fuck him and all the stupid guys there. You thought i wasn’t paying attention to you? I wanted you so fucking bad I had to stay away or else you’d be on the floor with my cock inside you,” He grunts, hands gripping your waist.

“Toru! It’s too much!” You’re full on sobbing at this point, legs shaking and body sweaty.

“You don’t want him right? It was just to make me mad, right baby?” He asks you desperately, his hair falling perfectly in front of his eyes.

“Yes! I just wanted you to fuck me, I swear,” You squeal.

His hips rut into your sloppy cunt as both of you moan and pant like two bunnies in heat. His fingers expertly tease your clit and he sucks blue and red hickies on every part of your body. He’s holding you as close as possible. His thrusts get sloppy and his moans get slutty.

“Gonna cum inside you baby, gonna fill my pussy up everyone’s gonna fucking know you’re mine,” He says in your ear.

“I’m gonna-“ Before you can even finish your sentence you pulse around his cock cumming so hard you see black.

He follow not long after, spurting hot ropes of cum inside you. He gets as deep as possible to ensure nothing slips out. He releases the technique and you fall on top of his chest, breathing like you just ran a marathon.

“Holy shit baby, that was so good,” He says, smiling.

“Yeah… i wanna take a bath,” you look up at him.

“Okay my love, just promise me one thing. Never make me jealous again.”

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto