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our-marvel-universe · 1 day ago

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Omg he just says the absolute sweetest things that sometimes I forget he's kind crazy 😳🙈

He just loves so hard that it makes me forget he's a stalker who already has their wedding planned out even though they're not actually engaged 😵‍💫

Like sir you cannot keep telling people she is your future wife even if it's true.

And I love/hate seeing her start to wear down the referring to him as her boyfriend and not correcting him on the marriage stuff. You right all these nuanced feelings and things she's experiencing so incredibly well. Like yes Bucky treats her so wonderfully better than she's ever been treated but then also.....

And I can feel all the conflict and confusion and also the resolve as she is just beginning to accept her fate and it's just uhhhh 🫠

Hold You Tight: Part 27

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 26 | Series Masterlist | Part 28

Chapter Word Count: Almost 4k

Chapter Summary: An idea comes to you regarding part of your future and Bucky has a few choice words for your parents.

Chapter Warnings: Confrontation, bonding of sorts, inner turmoil, world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: I don't know what happened to the original post. Let's try this again! More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought it would feel strange with Curtis hanging out in the kitchen while you baked the brownies, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought, and it was something you’d have to get used to since he would be around you going forward. He didn’t try to fill the silence with small talk unless you asked him a question, likely trying to remain in the “shadows”. You did wonder what was on his mind since he mentioned being trapped, but it wasn’t any of your business. He was your bodyguard and that didn’t mean he’d be your friend.

“Smells delicious,” he said, standing when you took them out of the oven.

“Don’t worry. I won't burn myself,” you said, nodding for him to sit back down. “And thanks. I hope you like them.”

“I'm sure I will.”

Ray walked into the kitchen the moment you set the brownies out to cool off and looked between you and Curtis who settled back in his chair. “A treat for breakfast?” he guessed.

“A treat for Curtis,” you said, making your bodyguard smile a little.

Ray blinked hard and slow. “I see,” he said, pushing his glasses up. Did that upset him?

“Well, that batch is for Curtis. You have first dibs on the other batch,” you clarified.

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” The blonde raised an eyebrow. “And what about the boss?”

“He’s third. He knows what he did,” you said unapologetically. They were your brownies. You could do what you wanted with them.

Curtis hid a smile before Ray asked, “And how are you feeling?”

You put your hands on the counter and shrugged. “Hard to say since I’m seeing my parents today and still dealing with…”

“Everything,” Ray finished for you.

You nodded. “I appreciate you asking.” It felt like you hadn’t talked to him in days and you admittedly missed it. Like Curtis, keeping you safe wasn’t a bore or chore in his eyes. He believed you were brave and part of you was starting to believe it, too.

“We’re all glad you're safe now,” he softly said.

“Careful there. You might be showing emotion,” Curtis said, earning him a glare from his colleague.

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked.

“He sulked for a minute when you kicked him out of the kitchen,” he said, making Curtis snort. Again, Bucky knew what he did. “But he’s in his office. Called Steve and Natalia. He also got an update on Lois.”

“How is she?” you asked, hoping that things were still looking up.

“She’s recovering well,” he assured you. You were glad to hear that. “From what we know, she’s stubborn and strong and it’ll take time, but she’ll be fine.”

You let out a breath. “I really need to see her, and I need to talk to Natasha,” you said. A woman you could hopefully help heal and move forward and a woman who was going to help you in some capacity. Both receiving and paying it forward. As that thought settled in your mind, an idea washed over you, making you stand up straighter and look at Ray again.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I have a thought,” you answered, trying not to get too excited. “I need to talk to Bucky.”

Curtis jumped from his chair when you walked out without another word, his footsteps behind you nearly silent. He really was going to be a good bodyguard for you. Ray followed, too, likely curious about why you rushed out so quickly.

Bucky looked up from his desk when you walked into the office, a smile on his face when he stood up. “Brownies ready?” he asked, holding his hand up to keep Curtis and Ray from walking in.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I came in here for,” you said, taking a seat on the sofa. Bucky immediately went to join you. “I have a bit of a crazy idea and I wanted to get your opinion on it.”

“You want my opinion?” The subtle shift in his posture showed he was touched. “And I’m the crazy one, Kotyonok, so nothing you could say would ever sound crazy to me.”

You didn’t dispute that he was crazy. “So, you know how one of the things that attracted you to me was helping your mom and my generally kind nature?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“And you helped Natasha however long ago so she could give the women who work at her hotel a better life, right?” you continued. You remembered Natasha telling you if it wasn't for Bucky she wouldn't be where she was.

“Yes, I did,” he confirmed, not elaborating on how or why.

“What if I do something kind of like that? What if I try to help other women who have…” You swallowed and tried to find the right words, suddenly nervous to ask for his opinion. “Been through stuff, like Lois or me.”

He tilted his head. “You want to help women who have been hurt in some capacity?”

“Yeah. Assault. Abuse. Trauma,” you said. You thought of your own situation, not just Clark's attack, but Bucky systemically making his way into your life. He wasn't out to harm you, but some stalkers did try to harm their victims. “And it's not like I’d have to quit being a florist. I just… I don't know. I want to do something.”

It could've been a means to take back some more control of your life. Being by Bucky’s side, you didn’t want to lose who you were in your core and wanted to continue putting good back into the world. Perhaps you wanted to pay it forward even more since others didn't have the kind of money and protection you now had.

“It’s stupid, isn't it?” you asked when he stayed quiet.

You were a florist. Yes, you volunteered when you could and wanted to help people, but it wasn’t your area of expertise. An endeavor like that was out of your depth, wasn't it?

Bucky framed your face, his eyes flashing with a mixture of pride and fury. “Don't you ever say an idea of yours is stupid. I won't stand for that,” he said, his gaze softening considerably. “Especially since that’s a great idea.”

You studied him, looking for any sign that he was joking. He wasn’t. “Really?” you asked in a small voice.

He kissed the tip of your nose with a smile. “Really. Money won’t be an issue. We can sketch out a plan and figure out what exactly you want to focus on, start local and small. Or you can sketch out the plan and I’ll give input if you seek it out,” he said, a hint of his businessman tone coming out. “If this is really something you want, we’ll make it happen.”

“So, just like that?” you asked. He was really supporting this?

“Of course. It’s admirable that you continue to look out for others and I’m going to support whatever you want to do,” he said.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You didn’t want to admit how nice it felt that he was backing this up, especially when you had no set plan yet.

“It also means a lot that you asked for my opinion.”

“Well, we have to talk through these things. It’s what couples do,” you said.

His smile was brighter than the light in the room. “So, you really see us as a couple now.”

“I guess so,” you said. What choice did you have?

He sighed before he kissed your lips, featherlight and full of promise. “You won’t regret it,” he whispered, suddenly standing and helping you to your feet, too. “You’re still in your robe.”

“I’ve been in the kitchen this whole time,” you reminded him, your mind going back to Curtis and wondering more about his past.

Bucky checked his watch. “Why don’t you get ready for lunch? I think Curtis and Ray have seen you in your robe enough for one day,” he tried to tease and checked his watch.

“And what about the day I’m walking around in nothing but my underwear?” you blurted out without meaning to.

Darkness crossed Bucky’s eyes, but it was more lust than rage when he put his hands on your hips. “I’d hate to have to hurt my own men, but I do love the thought of you walking around our home so… freely.”

“I’ll bet you do,” you whispered, knowing he’d probably chase you around or drag you to bed if he had the chance. “But for now, yes, I should get dressed.”

“Don’t want to keep your parents waiting,” he said, letting you pull away to get ready. “I hope I make a lasting impression.”

You shivered, wondering just what kind of impression he wanted to make. “I’m sure you will.”

Curtis leaned against the wall outside of the office while Ray stood on the other side. “You want to help others, huh?” your bodyguard asked.

You stopped to face him. “Yeah, I do.”

Curtis didn’t say anything else, but he looked impressed. So did Ray. You didn’t have time to dwell on that. You had to get ready for a lunch that you didn’t want to go to.

But your whole life as of late had been a series of events you had to participate in without much of a choice, so what was one more?

Bucky held your hand the entire drive to the restaurant and didn’t force you to talk, which you appreciated since your stomach was in knots. You found yourself playing with the diamond necklace, which he had put around your neck before you left. Your mom would no doubt stare at it or make a comment since you had never had such a nice piece of jewelry. Was this going to be a disaster or were you overthinking it?

“We’ll get through this quickly,” Bucky told you once the car stopped, his lips brushing the top of your hand. “Long enough for me to meet them and send them on their way.”

The knot in your stomach tightened more. How exactly was he going to send them on their way? “And after that?”

“Whatever you want,” he promised, helping you out of the car.

You didn’t pay much attention as you were escorted to the private table, but you knew Ray and Curtis weren’t far behind. The place was bright and airy, but sophisticated. It would've been a nice place to go on a date. Would this lunch sour that idea?

“I’m here,” Bucky whispered, pulling out your chair for you.

Considering the way he burst into your life you never expected to lean on him for anything. You had since your attack and now this, looking to him for support without meaning to. You even asked for his opinion on your idea to help other women, which you did seek out. Who were you becoming?

“Why do I care so much about what they think?” you asked when he sat down beside you.

“Because they’re your parents and it’s natural,” he replied, taking your hand under the table. “But you don’t need them.”

You were about to argue that you did need them before you caught them in your line of sight, your back rigid as they moved closer. They didn’t look overjoyed to see you, which broke your heart a bit. Bucky squeezed your hand before you realized you had squeezed his hand first. This was going to be a long lunch.

“It’s good to see you,” your dad said when Bucky released your hand only to pull your chair back to help you stand. “And you must be-”

“Bucky, her boyfriend. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, shaking his hand and smirking when your dad winced and turning a critical eye on your mom. Neither of them hugged you before they took their seats and you quickly sat back down to hide your embarrassment. “You two raised quite the woman,” he added, daring them to say something.

“Thank you,” your mom said, looking over the menu.

“Since the menu seems to be more important than greeting your daughter, please, pick whatever you want,” Bucky smiled like a wolf getting ready to strike while you gaped at him. “I spare no expense when it comes to her and her… loved ones. Just look at her necklace. I purchased it for our first date.”

Your mom’s mouth fell open and you felt a bit of satisfaction when your dad squirmed in his seat. Did that make you a bad person? “I’m sorry. I meant nothing by it.” Your mom cleared her throat. “We’re thrilled to see you. It’s just with our accounts being frozen…”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” you filled in the blanks. You were used to it.

“Yes, I’m sorry about your accounts,” Bucky said without sounding sorry at all and pretended to look over his menu. “Interesting how you always think of others first even when you have a lot on your mind, Kotyonok,” he said loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Makes me wonder what that came from.”

Your mom’s mouth didn’t drop again, but you heard her sharp inhale on her next breath and your dad squirmed again. They weren’t used to subtle insults like that, especially for someone who had just met them. But as Bucky took your hand, you very much felt like his queen and he was defending you as such.

“Aren’t you going to compliment her necklace?” Bucky asked, turning his head to smile at you. “It’s as beautiful as she is.”

Your face felt hot when your parents stared and admired the diamonds. “They don’t have to say anything,” you mumbled.

“But I don’t understand. What kind of parents don’t compliment their child, especially when they haven’t seen them in some time?” he asked. Once again, it was loud enough for them to hear. He was digging the knife in and twisting it in the most passive aggressive way.

“It’s beautiful,” your mom said enviously, avoiding looking at Bucky.

“Thanks,” he said, flagging the server down and putting a hand to his chest. “Like I said, whatever you want. It’s on me.”

You picked a light meal, knowing there was a high chance you couldn’t stomach something heavy. Your mom chose the highest priced meal, which Bucky merely smiled expectantly. Your dad had the good sense to not do the same. It would’ve been nice if they asked how you were or gave some sort of indication that they cared.

“How did you two meet?” your dad asked to break the tension, which only made you nervous all over again.

“My club, and I very much fell for her first,” Bucky answered easily and leaned over to kiss your temple. “I knew she was the one the moment I laid eyes on her.”

“Club?” your mom questioned. “Since when do you go to clubs?”

“It was for Addison’s bachelorette party,” your boyfriend answered for you, smiling again. “You know Addison, don’t you? I would hope so. She’s practically family to her.”

You took a sip of your water and said nothing as your parents looked more uncomfortable with each passing second. The air was awkward to say the least. Bucky, on the other hand, looked over the moon one second and was ready to kill the next. It had to be giving your parents whiplash.

“She’s a good friend,” your mom said, her smile shaky. “How’s the shop?” she asked, changing the subject.

“The shop’s great,” you said and found yourself smiling since you did love the place and your job. “Mrs. Crandle is still a great boss and-”

“And you’re still just a florist,” she cut you off dismissively with a shake of her head, wiping your smile away. “You could’ve been so much more.”

Your eyes glossed over, but you held your head high. “There’s nothing wrong with me being a florist, and I am more.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Ease up,” your dad whispered to your mom, shocking you both. Since when was he not on her side? Or was it because Bucky glared at them?

“Just a florist.” The man beside you chuckled, a dark and empty sound. “Tell them about the idea you told me about earlier today.”

The knot filled your stomach so much that you feared you’d get sick. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you said, not wanting to hear what they had to say since they never backed you up on anything.

“But it’s a great idea,” he assured you, giving your parents a smile. “Wait until you hear it.”

Your dad leaned forward and appeared interested. Was it for show? “What is it?”

Bucky nodded, encouraging you to speak up. “I went through something recently,” you said carefully, not wanting to blurt it out. “And it made me realize I want to help others and build a support system for women who have been through things.”

Your parents looked at each other as you held your breath. “That sounds ambitious,” your dad said just as carefully as you. “I realize you have good intentions, but…”

“You can’t just up and decide you want to run a charity,” your mom said, laughing and tapping her finger on the table when Bucky gripped his water glass. “You need more than just good intentions. You need experience and funding, which you have none of.”

You sighed. It was exactly what you expected. They wanted you to be more, but offered no encouragement when you tried.

“Aren’t you even going to ask what I went through?” you asked, your voice thick with emotion. For the first time, your mom looked worried. “Someone-”

“They don’t deserve to know.” Bucky took a sip before he gently set the glass down, making you eye him warily. He looked like he was ready to explode. “She isn’t just deciding, by the way. She has volunteer experience and she’s going to formulate a plan. And what she may lack in other ‘experiences’, she has passion, heart, and drive. It’s a shame you're too blind to see that.”

Your mom shrank back in her seat, looking as small as you felt. “I didn’t mean-”

“And as far as funding, I’ll be helping her with that since I don't expect either of you to lend her a thing. She has her own money, too. You just didn't know it,” he explained, bitterly laughing again at their shocked expressions. “Jesus Christ. You’re her parents. You should be proud of her. She’s loved by everyone she meets and she has thrived without your support.” He let that hang in the air before he continued. “She has more character in her finger than you two have in your entire body and I will back her up on anything and everything she needs because I believe in her.”

You placed a hand on Bucky’s thigh to ground him, your eyes welling with tears again. You were torn between not wanting him to cause a scene and for him to keep speaking because it just felt nice to hear. It felt pathetic and empowering, a strange combination.

“I just wanted you to support and love me,” you whispered, your chest aching at finally saying the words. “Why didn't you?”

Why did it hurt so much that you didn't have the love you needed?

Your dad leaned back like you slapped him while your mom didn't move. “We did and do love you,” he swore, looking to his wife for help when Bucky scoffed in disbelief. “Tell her.”

He shouldn't have to tell her that.

“We just wanted you to have direction,” your mom said, flinching when Bucky leaned forward with one elbow on the table. She couldn't even say she loved you.

“She has always had direction. You just never bothered to look where she was going,” he said, his voice soft and dangerous. “Though I guess your lack of support helped build her into the woman I love, so I almost wonder if I should thank you for not being who she needed.”

“I’m not going to sit here and let you continue to insult us,” your dad said since your mom was rendered speechless for once.

You almost warned your dad that Bucky wasn't the kind of man to mouth off to, but didn't.

“You know, I think I know now why you wanted to become a florist,” Bucky said as if he didn’t hear him. “You’re surrounded by warmth and brightness and you get to watch things bloom and grow and thrive because you never had that.”

You blinked away your tears. Bucky saw what they didn’t. You didn’t have to point it out.

“We do love our daughter, even if we didn't show it in the best way,” your dad argued, trying to take your hand across the table, but Bucky pulled you back. It was another brick added to the wall to keep people he didn’t want near you out.

“You didn’t love her enough and you never will.” He took his wallet out and threw some money on the table, more than enough to cover the meals that hadn’t yet arrived at the table. “Thank God I love her enough for all of us and I always will.”

Your mom sniffled. You hardly ever saw her cry. “I…” She trailed off when your boyfriend tossed more money on the table.

“That should cover the rest of your time here in the city. Take it. Or don’t. But I’m not going to sit here and play nice with people who make my future wife feel low about herself.” He pushed himself up and let your parents see just how large and imposing he was. “Just leave her alone the way you always have.”

They were good at leaving you alone.

“Please,” your dad begged, making you pause. “We’re sorry.”

“Empty apologies mean nothing,” Bucky said, his eyes narrowed. “Oh, and as it stands, I don’t want you at our wedding, but maybe your loving daughter will change my mind.”

“Wedding?!” your mom exclaimed.

“Yes, she’s going to be my wife and have a wonderful lifetime with me.” He smiled when you didn't disagree. “Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

Bucky helped you up from the table and led you away, not even letting you look back when you heard your mom choke on a sob. They didn’t chase after you. They never would.

Your steps felt heavy. Your head spun. It was a relief that they knew how you felt in some capacity, but you didn't feel much better. Why not?

“They’re the past and I’m your present and future,” your boyfriend whispered, slipping an arm around you when you bit your lip. “I’m the family you need.”

“Thank you for sticking up for me,” you said, making him preen.

“I’ll always defend and stick up for you,” he promised, his grip possessive. “And I'm proud of you.”

What was there to be proud of? No, you wouldn't think like that. You were a good person, and a survivor. Your parents and their lack of support and care wouldn't take that from you.

“But I didn’t even get to tell them what happened.” What if they had wanted to help? They weren’t loving, but you were still their daughter and your mom had looked worried for a second.

“You don’t need them. Not when you have me,” he said, leaving no room to argue when he nodded to Ray and Curtis who hovered nearby. “And I won't let them hurt you ever again.”

You should’ve known lunch with your parents meant Bucky would close the door. You would have no choice but to move forward. And you didn't know what that meant except that you were now one step closer to being entirely his.

This chapter took a lot out of me! As a mom who wants to show nothing but love and support to my babies (and protect them), I want to wrap Kotyonok in a huge hug. Where do we think they'll go from here? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#fic recs #ongoing series #in this essay i will

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doctorsiren · 6 months ago

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gives them hands so they can hold them and also wheatley is there too

#doctorsiren #portal #portal 2 #GLaDOS #cave johnson #wheatley #portal fanart #digital art #my art #procreate #TIL that in Lego Dimensions’ portal level set. there was apparently a Cave Johnson core???#I know literally nothing about Lego Dimensions other than GLaDOS’ song #but 💥💥💥 give that guy an amber monitor head 💥💥💥#she gets to be the tallest because she’s the coolest #cave’s tie has lemons ofc #and whealtey’s bow tie has the moon #GLaDOS’ fit is supposed to be reminiscent of Caroline’s #with the top part of her dress being that white part of GLaDOS and the bottom skirt being shaped like a turret or the portal gun #I’m just having fun with hot robot lady 😳😵‍💫🤪🫣#I wanna punt Wheatley across a football field I think he deserves that

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katakosmos · 4 months ago

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somewhere out there there's an extremely rich and snobbish evan who pretends to be a dumb drama queen.

every weekend he sleeps with a different guy, and he pretends to be a virgin with all of them. and after they have sex, he makes the most innocent face ever and says something like: "you took my virginity, now you'll never leave me, right?". except all those guys are in a relationship and/or are hiding their homosexuality, and so they disappear TERRIFIED. then evan (and that was his goal all along) wrecks their car or vandalizes their house. and he does this every weekend.

until he meets barty.

#“you'll be mine forever right?”#barty: 😳😲😵‍💫😍 oh ehmg godYES #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #rosekiller

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funfairsundaes · 4 months ago

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🩷🎡🩷 !!! Happy Saint Valentine’s Day !!! 🩷🎡🩷

🎡💘💌💘🎡💘💌💘🎡

- Credit to the og art inspiration and reference !!! I was looking everywhere for a decent Ferris wheel reference when this century old magazine cover crossed my path and was what I had in my mind (coincidentally being from the roaring 20s, as well!), and I could hardly help myself. The further I got in my drawing, the more ✨ artistic liberties ✨ I ended up taking, and I, uh… I guess you can say I like carnival lights. A lot.

Link to the og Pinterest page below 👇

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danidrabbles · 12 hours ago

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Ohhhhhh, how I loved seeing these two again 🥹

The start is so fitting for them, him chasing her through a garden. I love how much fun they're having, how the laughter is echoing through the air, how she can picture his scowl as he chases her. And of course he catches up with her.

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.” > 🥺

“Can’t hide from me.” And you know what he means. That it’s useless to try, not with his senses. Not with the honey-sweet stickiness between your thighs, his own personal bouquet > 😳

The imagery you use is so nice, the plants and trees and flowers (more on that later), but also stuff like this,

All the while his own hands wander. Nearly as methodical as the chase - brushing over learned places that send a shiver down your spine.

I also love how much they need, all the Hunger licks at you both, "s'what you needed, isn't it?", "Please," "I need it. Need you." but still taking their sweeeet sweet time working him inside 🤭

Logan's "Wanna feel you squeeze it, honey-" but then coming before she is, is sooooooo... good. Pff. 😵‍💫. Wow.

And how her abilities come out, and how he uses his 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 Like, this whole bit????

The prick of rose thorns against your wrist. The petal unfurling on the peonies beneath you, as his hips slow. Camellia and gardenia worn like a second skin.

Out of season, but not for you.

It’s lucky, that he has his claws. The punch of metal through flesh, reflecting the sharp grin as he carefully cuts you free.

Please, god, that's so.... strangely romantic 🥹

AND THE EEEEND. His "Don't. I like 'em." when she tries to pluck the flowers off herself 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Thank you for writing more for these two, and thank you for sharing 🥰

— through the garden

logan howlett x mutant!f!reader

rated e - 2.4k

tags: mutant!f!reader, (newly) established relationship, domestic predator/prey, a chase through the grounds, two cuties in love, flowers as a physical & metaphorical symbol for love, outdoor sex, PiV, creampie

a/n: part of heat waves. a little summer blorbo series ☀️ I imagined the reader in this to be the same as from eden - back when they first met 💖

“Think you’re cute? Tryin’ to run.”

The hot exhale of breath makes you shiver, even as you smile, “Didn’t think you’d catch up so easily. Thought I lost you in the garden.”

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.”

His voice pitching lower then, something just for you.

“Can’t hide from me.”

Logan finds you in the garden.

You hoped he would. Needing the open sky above him after so many hours spent inside training - almost as much as he needs you.

Finally leaning into that pull that has been woven between you since the beginning.

Taking root, blossoming in your ribcage until you felt full to bursting. Biting back soft sentiments, knowing it was too soon to voice something your heart had known for so long.

A silhouette that starts dark against the stone walls of the mansion. The familiar white tee and worn blue jeans streaked with a sunset of pink and orange as he moves closer.

That steady pace that you had picked up on, kneeling in the dirt. Weeds yanked from the root, exchanged for fresh bulbs. Eyes flicking towards the sounds of his steps. Slowly rising, and you wait - the heavy weight of your responsibilities shed out here.

Leaving just you and your thudding heart behind.

Your gaze meet his, that pretty shade of brown and green. Close enough now that he can catch the flash of your teeth with your grin and then -

You’re running.

There’s a surprised huff behind you - you can picture his frown, that drawn-together pull of dark eyebrows. A heartbeat passing, before the thud of his boots follow.

You knew he would. Unable to help, after he saw you. Some animal part inside him let free - enticing him into the chase.

Only your knowledge of the grounds and lightness of foot keeps you a step ahead. A laugh echos in the hedge garden - the press of your feet against worn stone, weaving down the paths. Ducking around berms, flowers that spill over in shade of pink and pale cream.

Following a trail you know as well as the back of your hand. Leading you deeper, and deeper into the grounds.

Anticipation spikes, with each heavy step behind you. The thudding spike of excitement and fear blending with the hope that he will catch up.

Heat already pooling low, with that tell-tale twinge of need. Damping the fabric between your thighs, as you flit through the thick line of trees.

Goosebumps prickle across your skin, sweat beading at the nape of your neck.

Just managing to make it through to other side. The long, dirt path before you, framed with the thin, pointed junipers you’d had tended yourself.

Only the roof of the mansion visible behind you through the tall grove as you peel off to the left, and race towards the lake.

The steps behind you coming faster on open ground, as your heart inches up your throat. Unhindered by the weight he carries now, making up for the time spent winding through trees.

Finally catching you, at the old tree by the edge of the water. Arms encircling your waist, ensnaring you as you gasp with surprise and pleasure.

A nose buried in your neck, as Logan crushes your back against his chest. Ignoring the way you wiggle in his grasp, the words almost growled out.

“Think you’re cute? Tryin’ to run.”

The hot exhale of breath makes you shiver, even as you smile, “Didn’t think you’d catch up so easily. Thought I lost you in the garden.”

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.”

His voice pitching lower then, something just for you.

“Can’t hide from me.”

And you know what he means. That it’s useless to try, not with his senses.

Not with the honey-sweet stickiness between your thighs, his own personal bouquet. A reveal one he loosened during one of your early nights together.

On another evening, you might be embarrassed. Reminded again how he must have known how you felt long before you told him. Cataloging the thundering of your heart. The look in your eyes, the perfume that bloomed across your skin.

Holding himself back for weeks, waiting for you to come to him. To finally take the offers he’d been dangling, wrapped up in slick innuendo - for what they really were.

The butterflies in your stomach burst from their branches. A thrill igniting, pulsing low. Awakening that dormant part inside you, one that wouldn’t mind a chase like this again.

And he senses it - that change inside you, as you squirm to face him. The way your eyes darken when they finally meet his own blown-wide ones, that hitch in your breath.

“And what are you going to do?” You manage, “Now that you caught me?”

His own gaze turning greedy. The flash of teeth in a knowing smile, before his mouth presses to yours.

Letting you feel what the chase - what you - did to him. His tongue dips against the seam of your lips as your hand flattens over his racing heart. How he tugs you flush until it’s impossible to miss the thick bulge in his jeans, straining against the zipper.

The words growled out, with the rut of his hips.

“Gonna take what’s mine.”

Your moan is swallowed, as you’re lowered with him. Tucked against the tree where so many afternoons had been spent beneath the sprawling branches.

Turning pages and lesson plans jotted down between stolen kisses.

Thighs split to make room for him, as the setting sun is blotted out by the breath of his shoulders. Arching over you - unable to stop touching, now that he has you.

It’s almost like you glow beneath him. The pleased curl of your lips, eyes half-lidded. Soaking in the sun all afternoon, warming you down to your bones.

Turning your limbs leaden, as he molds you to fit him. Elbows braced on broad shoulders as your arms twine around. A broad hand spanning across the small of your back, as you let him steal another kiss.

And then another.

You part for him. Moaning into the lick of his tongue. Fingers twisting into thick, dark hair - mussing its careful styling.

All the while his own hands wander. Nearly as methodical as the chase - brushing over learned places that send a shiver down your spine.

Jaw and neck, the pad of his thumb running over your sternum. A knuckle teasing the curve of your breast, as your teeth press against his lip.

Lower, lower.

He cups you, then - a palm curving against your cunt. Hips shifting, as he groans in your ear. Fingers toying at the hem of your shirt, inching it up until his other palm can slip beneath.

Kneading at your breast, feeling the tight bud of your nipple beneath the thin bra.

“We should-“ The start of a protest is half-hearted.

Your game had taken you away from the garden grounds. Unlikely to be disturbed this late in the evening.

And already you’re pressing into his touch - rolling your body until the heel of the hand below grinds against your clit.

“Don’t make me wait.”

Another moan slips free at his words - half command and half plea. Your own fingers sliding from his biceps, the fabric tugged taught over them. Up to lace behind his neck, and draw his mouth down to yours again.

Hunger licks at you both - in the part of your lips, how eager he is to deepen it. Your legs close around his hips as he leans into you, the hand leaving your core so his thigh can press between yours.

His hum echoing yours as the seam of your shorts pull taut, hinting at friction as he gives you something to grind against.

Relief and the need for more twisting together, as he flexes into the roll of your hips. Another nudge and then another, until your own plea slips free.

“Please, Logan.”

There’s another hum, amusement at your impatience - only breaking the kiss long enough to hike your thighs up. The hand leaving your tits to hook around your shorts and underwear. Yanking them down as your knees press against his chest, as his other hand works at the thick, silver belt buckle at his waist.

A sigh against your lips, as he tugs himself free. Pressing you back into the cradle of strong roots as he ruts against your thigh. Hot and heavy, smearing his need against your skin until you manage to reach down.

Fingers encircling the thick shaft of his cock, tipping it until the head nudges against your slit.

Logan is already bucking forward. Knowing you can take it - could smell how ready you were the moment he brought you to the ground.

“Fuck.” It’s ground out, as your heat wraps around him. The slick slide as he sinks in one inch, and then another, “S’what you needed, isn’t it? What you were waiting for.”

“Yes.” You pant, back arching, “Yes, I need it. Need you.”

Eyes fluttering as your ankles end up braced against a shoulder. The bite of his nails against your calf as he seats himself inside you, another betrayal at how deep his need runs as well.

Enough that leaning into it. Near bending you in half in an attempt to get closer. Needing to feel every inch notched deep inside you, pressed flush until the coarse hairs at the base of his cock tease at your clit. The slick drip of your cunt sticky against the heavy sack that rests against your ass.

Stripped down to your bones, you’re just like him.

Needing this as much as he does, still basking in the open air and the sinking sun above, even if you do have to bite back your sounds.

“More.” You manage instead, when he takes too long.

A rough sound in response, almost a growl, before it’s almost becoming too much. Another sharp, single thrust has you fully split open, before he begins short snaps of his hips to keep you full.

Bliss radiates inside you - your fingers quick to drift down, across your belly. Teasing at your clit, as his hands tighten around your legs. Using the leverage to lean back - to watch - as he’s dragged half-way out. The slick sound as he thrusts back in.

How your fingers twitch and stutter. Pressing harder. Lips parting in a pant as he sets a steady rhythm, thighs smacking against the curve of your ass.

Letting your fingers fist in his shirt. Wrinkling the fabric as your hips try to move to meet his. Gasping breath each time he stokes against a spot that brings out the midnight stars early.

Winding you higher, higher. A babble of “yes” and “please”, and “oh my god, don’t stop-“, tumbling from you over and over.

The seeds planted with the first steps of your chase starting to push to the surface, as your fingers trace down to feel him. A low grunt as they tease along his shaft, only to pull more of your slick arousal back up to the throbbing between your thighs.

His gaze snaps back to yours when the words peter out - catching the way you’ve gone stiff, breath held. Eyes half-lidded as your muscles flex beneath his palm, how your fingers move faster as you tighten around his cock.

“Logan-“

“I know.” It’s gritted out.

“Know you’re right fuckin’ there with me. Wanna feel you squeeze it, honey-“

The words cut off, with his groan. The long strokes turning shallow again as he grinds himself deep. His hands dropping to the gnarled roots below, the crack of bark as he chases his own end. Another sharp rut, before he’s spilling inside you.

Your answer is a loose tumble of sounds as you follow, with the throb of his cock. Fingers rubbing soaked flesh as the feel of the warmth spreading inside you sends you over the edge.

A cry cracks through the evening light, as the pleasure bursts from you. The small peppering of buds across the roots of the tree unfurling - petals twisting open as you pulse around him. Stretching out in all directions, blooming over your skin and twisting up the trunk of the tree.

The prick of rose thorns against your wrist. The petal unfurling on the peonies beneath you, as his hips slow. Camellia and gardenia worn like a second skin.

Out of season, but not for you.

It’s lucky, that he has his claws. The punch of metal through flesh, reflecting the sharp grin as he carefully cuts you free.

You’d be one with the earth, without it. Broken down into your base needs, blanketed the emotions buried so deep inside you.

Funny that the man who caused them, would be the one to free you as well.

Silken petals twirl between blunt fingers. A flash of red before the bud is tucked behind your ear. A rose blooming against your temple.

Logan’s expression must match yours, as his arm stretches out. Leaning into this garden you’ve created, cushioned with the physical manifestation of your heart - now worn so clearly on your sleeve.

“Yours, huh?” It slips from you. A call back to earlier - those growled out words as you wriggled in his arms.

“Yeah.” It’s husked out, “That gonna be a problem?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you grin.

“Never.”

There’s a low huff, his own laugh, as his eyes tip up to the sky.

It used to bother you. The blooms. How obvious they made you feel. Nothing hidden, in the sprout of petal across your skin.

But right now-

You don’t think you’d have it any other way.

It takes longer to move. To find your leaden legs again. Tugged to your feet, heat warming your cheeks at you fix your clothes back in place.

Still not ready for the gossip. The teasing, despite everything and the affection laced within the words.

The grounds are dark now, as your hand fits in his. Taking the slower route back home, down the path and through the forest. The mansion looming back into view, as you’re drawn back into your life, once more.

“Logan, wait.”

You almost forget.

The blissful smile faltering as your bare feet dig into the ground. Plucking at the petals that still linger in your hair, trying to rid yourself of the evidence.

Still shy, at the way he affects you. How he makes you lose control - your shared tree will surely remain adorned, until tomorrow.

Hands close around your wrists. The brush of a thumb against your pulse, where your heartbeat thrums. Halting you, drawing them back down as he takes you in.

“Don’t.” Logan husks.

“I like ‘em.”

thank you so much for reading!! 💐 it seriously means the world 💖

#fic rec #x reader #f!reader

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sainz100 · 6 months ago

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#max verstappen #autumn posts #😵‍💫😳🫠❤️#his chessssttt #flashing tw

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vaelerius · 2 months ago

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endless gifs of rhea - 66 / ∞

#rhea ripley #wwe #wwe edit #wweedit #wrestling #wrestling edit #wrestlemania 41 #wrestlemania #va-rhea #va-gifs #i mean - uhhhh 😳😵‍💫😵‍💫

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ricciardo133 · 7 months ago

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Lusail 2024

maxiel, phone sex, praise and sweat kink, missing Daniel hours

Everything feels off-balance to Max, but he knows one person who can make him feel grounded. He slips away from the team and his family, saying he needs a moment by himself before qualifying. He hides away alone in his driver's room, but he wants to be alone with Daniel.

He presses Daniel's contact on his phone and holds it up to his ear. Of course, Daniel picks up on the first ring.

"Howdy," Daniel says in his relaxed tone. "Car off-pace?"

"Yes," Max says. Naturally, Daniel already knew why he was calling. He much preferred when Daniel was also in the paddock and Max could slip out and navigate each memorized, covert path from his driver's room to Daniel's. Max paces instead, feeling caged and pent up. "Where are you?"

"Somewhere along Mescal Canyon Road near Azusa Canyon. Gorgeous spot. Gotta take you here sometime when you're in LA again."

Ah, he's biking. "If you're with your friends," he starts nervously.

"Nah, Maxy. Solo tripping at the moment, so I can help." Daniel pauses. "If you want me to help...like we used to."

Max hates the past tense. He wants him here. He wants him now.

"You're outside," Max says.

"I'm alone, not a soul around. And plus, I want to hear you do it." Max catches his breath, imaging Daniel in front of him as he closes his eyes. "Tell me as you do it, Max."

"Daniel," he breathes. He holds the phone against his shoulder as his hands undo his coveralls. "I'm getting undressed."

Daniel used to peel off the layers with the most gentle quickness, smooth and effortless to curl the fireproofs off Max's thighs. Max sits on the sofa in his driver's room and feels his bare ass hit the cold, plush surface. He's already hard, just remembering how Daniel used to grip his length. His own hands feel too big, too shaky.

"Daniel," he says again. "I'm...I'm sitting down."

"Are you feeling yourself?"

"Yes."

"Tell me more. Also don't do it dry, Max," Daniel laughs gently. How, Max wonders in warm awe as he leans over to his backpack and gets out the lube. Daniel is thousands of miles away and he still knows just how Max is jerking himself off. It feels too cold on his palm as he goes back to pumping, now slick in his hand as he grows dizzier with need.

"Jesus, Daniel," he whines quietly. He looks over, assured the door is still locked. "I wish you were here."

"I am there. I'm with you now," he says back. "Talk to me. How do you feel?"

"Nervous. I hate it." His eyes tear up as his hands work faster. "The car's fucked. The team's fucked. I'm fucked."

"I can help with that last one," Daniel says. Max can see the way he smiles as he talks. "Not that you need my help being incredible, Max. You do that on your own. You just forget sometimes."

Max feels his body awash in a fantastic heat, like each of Daniel's words is drenched in sunlight. He works harder on his cock, hand slick and tight but not as tight as he wants.

"Daniel," he whispers.

"You're amazing, Max. I said it all in that video message but it's nothing you don't already know," Daniel says through the phone. "You did it, Max. Four times. And you'll do it again if you want because you're just that fucking good."

"Daniel." His voice is hoarse, pleading. His tempo picks up, pushing on the edge.

"You got this, Max. You can do fucking magic in any ride. Even riding me. We can do it again, next time we're back in Monaco," he says words playful and heated. "I still got your ass in paddle a few weeks ago but you were so fucking sweaty after, so fucking good."

Max feels careening dangerously to the brink. He remembers pressing his face into Daniel's shoulder, breathing into a grey sweatshirt Daniel had worn for hours, damp with sweat from their paddle match and then even sweatier after eager ruts on Max's sofa in his empty apartment. He remembers races and races of Daniel drenched in sweat. That sharp, heady smell that was distinctly Daniel. It was pine. It was evergreen. It was him.

"Daniel, I need you," Max says. He feels his eyes leak as his dick twitches and spills with precome. "Oh, God, Daniel. I need you so fucking bad."

"I'm here right now. I'm always here for you, Max."

Max can't help it. He chokes on a small cry as he works his cock harder and faster, trying to catch a ghost of the way Daniel would grip him and slide from head to base. Max whispers his name over and over as Daniel showers him in such unrelenting praise. Max almost thinks to riffle through his bag where one of Daniel's shirts is balled up inside, but he's too close. He has the scent of his sweat firmly etched in his memory, always on tap. Years of breathing in him.

"I"m going to come," he says softly over the phone. "Daniel, I'm going to come."

"Come for me, Max. You can do it. You got this, baby."

Max breaks, grabbing a nearby towel and gasping in shock and release as he comes. He holds his now spent cock and leans back into the sofa, reeling in the heady warmth that unspools in his chest. He looks down at the towel, thinking of days past when Daniel would abscond things like this, coated in Max, just as eager to smell and taste whatever he could.

Max heaves a sigh and stares up at the ceiling. "I miss you, Daniel."

"Almost the holidays, Max. Soon."

"Are you," Max blinks fast. "Are you...do you need me to..."

"I plan on being wicked horny all on my ride back. But call me tonight," Daniel says. Max savors the joy in his tone, the warmth. "Call me after you get pole. Then I can be a little bit more private instead of jacking off in the woods."

He once told Daniel his sweat smelled like trees. The sharp twang of pine with a hint of mountain air. He pictures Daniel out there now, fitting so perfectly in the woodsy tapestry. Still, he fits better here, sweaty after a race and in Max's arms.

"I'll be there for you, Daniel. Like you're always there for me."

"Mutual emergency contacts," Daniel smiles.

"Always."

"See you soon, Max," Daniel says. "You know you got this."

And Max does, too. He knows it. He grips the phone and feels that familiar assurance he needed so badly. "We got this," he nods into the phone. He blinks back wordless tears and smiles as they end the call. He thinks of Daniel, the sheen of his sweat, and a wide expanse of forest as he gets dressed and heads back out to the garage to get pole position.

#maxiel #when Max said he got up to something in his room before qualifying...😳😵‍💫🙂‍↕️✨#I miss them together so bad ahhhh at least there's always some fics and the hope for the future #also!!#I'm v behind on the maxiel tag so perhaps something like this has already been written!!#I need to catch up!!#a small contribution ahhhh gosh this weekend....THE VIDEO MESSAGE??#I am still so unwell.......#gosh them

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