blushfulbambi

[blushfulbambi]

“You’re too sweet for me”~ req

A/N: 0.851k! This is a short and angsty blurb I’ve written as a request. It’s inspired by the song ‘Too sweet’ which I really think is sooo perfect him and how his relationships are. Anyways, sorry that it’s taken me so long to post. I’ve been swamped lool! No one told me about the error I made😭

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The heavy downpour hit against the grimy alleyway walls, all of it trickling down to the scuffed concrete streets of Gotham, mixed along with the pitter-patter. Its restlessness was interrupted by the sounds of Jason’s heavy combat boots hitting roughly into the puddles that formed, and shallow breaths as he clutched the side of his abdomen, thick liquid red staining his soaked clothing and mixing with the rain. He felt hot all over, head spinning underneath the red helm that covered his face.

‘Just make it to them.’ Repeated over and over again in Jason’s mind. With every cold shot of rain against his back, his stomach grew tighter; he couldn’t tell if it was from the pain of his wound or the ever-growing guilt that followed suit with each chant of your name. It was all too consuming though—the thought of you. Sharp pains turned to dull pricks when combated with memories of your gentle eyes. God, you were too good for him; too sweet. Jason knew it was the truth. It had to be. How could someone like you be with someone like him? It was a sick joke to him—one that he couldn’t help but indulge in, trying to keep you as close as possible, yet not too close. Scared of what you’d see if he let you. Because what if you changed your mind after you saw him for all that he is… could he take that? Another sharp pain came with the thought, and he was sure he couldn’t.

‘Almost there,’ almost to you; to home, where you’ll patch him up while scolding him. You keep telling him to live right, but how can he? Jason’s Kevlar shirt was soaked with rain and stained with pools of blood at this point. The adrenaline, warring against blood loss, left him feeling more and more helpless—more ashamed to be roping you into his mess yet again. He could’ve patched himself up, so why was he choosing to risk bleeding out by walking in the rain to your apartment?

Because it felt safer—so much safer—with you by his side. That’s something worth risking his life for: the warm feeling that you ignite in his chest whenever you laugh at his sarcasm, the calming feeling of your fingers raking through his hair when you think he’s sleeping, or the way you taste sweeter than any grape he’s tasted… That’s something worth risking his life for. He’s the worst, isn’t he? To dare be this greedy whilst knowing the things he’s done. Whilst knowing how vastly different the two of you are. Hell, it can’t be said that he’s an ‘early bird’ like you—who wakes up for the sunrise when he’s finally turning in for the day.

It’s late now, but he knows you’ll answer when he knocks—it doesn’t matter the time. So, even as the rain-soaked clothes feel heavy and weigh him down with each step he takes to your door, and his mind is brimming over with guilt, he climbs the steps to your door just so he can see you—see you and the way you always shine bright as the morning.

And when he finally knocks, shaking from the long walk here, you answer.

[blushfulbambi]

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~Brat Logan Howlett~

A/N: 0.613k! & gn!reader. First ever posted drabble, enjoy!

Logan had taken every chance he had to ‘play’; chasing you around the mansion while they tried to focus on work, managing to stay longer than he was supposed to before he was whisked away for his own tasks to complete.

All in the name of fun. Letting his eyes rake over their figure before looking away when they noticed, squeezing past them so he could brush up against their skin. Teasing you, yet no response.

During reports to Scott, he’d managed to stand behind you, running his roughly padded thumbs against the curve of your back before his hands glided around the sides of your waist and gripped the soft surface, raising a brow when you still didn’t give him a reaction. So he moved on to the next attempt. He sat next to you during lesson planning, one hand on the table while the other grazed the skin of your thigh. He’d occasionally tug at the loops of your jeans, coaxing you to do something; react, scold him, look at him between furrowed brows—anything. He couldn’t stop himself.

He stood with you alone in the kitchen, trapping you against the counter, trying to hide fact his hands were slowly edging down the band of your pants. Hot breaths washing down the side of your neck along with the subtle prick of his course stubble.

“Been giving me the cold shoulder, huh…?” Logan nipped roughly at your ear, tongue soothing the pain.

The brat…

Logan’s lips twitched up into a small snarl when you had dragged him to the room, pushing him to the bed where he propped himself up on his elbow to look back up at you. The dusk sun’s pinkish-yellow hues flickered around his lower jaw and glided around his strong, broad shoulders, his muscles tensing before unraveling under the firm skin in a lax pattern.

“I was just playin’ around with ya, Pup.” His voice was the usual low grumble that he spoke in. Yet it sounded tight… “Ain’t no need to go around pushin’, now is there?” A coy huff of a laugh came from his chest, lopsided smirk paired with twinkling eyes. He knew what he had done—of course he did.