#I have to be so careful when I'm trying to just. Doodle her

[casstars]

Twist my rubber arm why don't you /lh

[mcrdvcks]

Until I Found You

Summary: Living in a small town had it's pluses and minuses. But when an older man and his daughter move in, things start to change, perhaps for the better.

Word Count: 24.3k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!teacher!reader

Notes: this is looong, and believe me, i was surprised when i realized that it ended up being 24,000 words.

this thing is a slow-burn, i was literally screaming at my screen saying 'just kiss already!' then realizing that, in fact, i'm the one who has to make them kiss or confess or do something.

reader has a last name, but other than that, she isn't described. this technically could be considered an AU of logan (2017) where logan survives, so this was written with old man logan in mind.

i would like to turn this into another oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests! (relating to this or anything else you want to see!)

warnings: none!

The small town you lived in meant a few things, everyone knew everyone, and everyone got in everyone’s business.

A few months ago, an older man and his young daughter moved into town. You weren’t sure exactly how old he was, of course you knew who he was, but even you had to admit, he was attractive. But that’s what everyone thought, you heard the mothers who would pick up their children from school, looking at Logan as he picked up Laura.

It was nice to see a man who picked up his kid, though you’ve never seen Laura’s mother, so perhaps that explains why.

Laura was a quiet and sweet girl, at least that’s what you thought. Apparently, she also had the spirit of a firecracker and got angry easily. And while she’s visited the principal’s office at least 9 times since she’s been here, you still can’t help but see her as a cute little girl who’s been through something traumatic, whatever it was.

You were standing outside with your class in the afternoon, waiting until all the students were picked up. Laura was in another teacher’s class at the end of the day, your coworker Emma Zhou. You and Emma stood next to each other, your classes mingling as they waited for their parents to pick them up.

Emma leaned close to you, “this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”

“Yeah, I think it’s everyone’s favorite part of the day. We get to go home after this.” You replied.

“It used to be that, but now…” Emma trailed off as you glanced over at her, “there aren’t a lot of people in this town who are good looking. But he’s a great new addition.”

You hummed noncommittally, so what if Logan was good-looking? It wasn't like you spent your time ogling him. He was just another parent in the sea of them, a bit rougher around the edges maybe, but nothing that special. Emma shot you a knowing look.

"Come on, you’ve seen him, right? That scruffy beard, those eyes," Emma said, nudging you with her elbow. "He’s like one of those rugged cowboys from the old Westerns."

"You sound like you're about to swoon," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light. You didn't want to admit you might have noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at Laura or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Well, can you blame me?" Emma shot back with a grin. "Small town like ours, and a guy like that shows up? It's bound to turn some heads."

You knew that much. All the women, even those who were married, always ogled him, but he either didn’t mind or didn’t care. His salt and pepper hair, the thick beard—he was practically a wet dream for women everywhere.

Emma nudged you again, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, you’re not even the least bit curious about him?"

"I mean, sure, he's... attractive, but I'm not about to join the fan club," you said, shrugging it off, though you could feel heat creeping up your neck. You kept your focus on the kids in front of you, especially Laura, who sat quietly on the steps, doodling in her notebook like she always did while waiting for her dad.

Emma smirked, clearly not buying your indifference. "Yeah, right. I see the way you look over there sometimes."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're seeing things."

Just then, you noticed Logan’s truck pull into the school parking lot. He stepped out, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the crowd of parents. Laura immediately perked up, her quiet demeanor shifting just a little, and she started gathering her things without a word.

"Speak of the devil," Emma murmured, but you ignored her, watching as Logan approached, his usual scowl in place, though it softened when his eyes landed on his daughter.

He gave a brief nod in your direction as he came closer. "Afternoon."

"Hey," you replied, casually. You weren’t about to give Emma the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

Laura stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she walked over to him. She paused in front of you, though, glancing up with those big, serious eyes of hers.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice quiet but steady with a hint of her accent.

You smiled. "See you tomorrow, Laura."

She gave a small nod before taking Logan’s hand. He didn’t say much else, just a simple ‘thanks’ before turning to leave with Laura in tow. You watched them walk away for a moment longer than necessary, noticing the slight limp in his step that he tried to hide.

"Y/N," Emma sing-songed, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Admit it, you’ve got a little thing for him, don't you?"

You rolled your eyes. "You really need a new hobby."

Emma laughed, but before she could press any further, her attention shifted to another parent picking up their kid, and you were grateful for the distraction. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder about Logan and Laura, what their story was. Everyone in town seemed to have their theories—some more ridiculous than others—but you’d always figured it wasn’t your place to pry.

As the crowd of students and parents thinned out, you found yourself thinking about Logan again. His gruff exterior didn’t bother you—it reminded you of those old Clint Eastwood characters, tough but with something vulnerable underneath. Maybe it was the way he looked at Laura, so protective but with a softness that made you wonder what kind of man he really was when he let his guard down.

Emma’s voice pulled you back to the present. "So, what’s your plan for the evening?"

You shrugged. "Probably just grading papers. Maybe catching up on some Netflix. You?"

"Trying to figure out how to run into Logan at the grocery store," she joked, though you wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t kidding.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good luck with that."

As you both said your goodbyes and headed to your cars, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time. He was already driving off, Laura in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window.

You let out a small sigh and got in your car, starting the engine. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but there was something there. Maybe Emma wasn’t entirely wrong.

Not that you’d ever admit that to her.

---

Much to your dismay, you had to go to the store once you were already clad in your loungewear. You wanted to make pasta, only to remember you forgot to get milk after work.

So now, here you were at the small local grocery store grabbing milk and a pint of ice cream for your troubles. The store was quiet at this hour, a few other people milling about but otherwise uneventful. You grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the dairy section, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. Loungewear was great for a lazy evening at home, but not exactly your first choice for public appearances.

Once you made it to the frozen section, you looked at the pints of ice cream, specifically looking for one of your favorites, Ben and Jerry’s s’mores. “Fuck.” You muttered, seeing a pint of cookie dough in the spot of the s’mores.

You angrily grabbed the cookie dough ice cream to look behind it, only to find a chunky monkey pint. With a huff, you looked at the pint of ice cream, mentally cursing your luck. Just as you were about to put it back onto the shelf, a deep voice spoke from beside you.

"Didn't figure you for a chunky monkey type."

Startled, you looked up and found Logan standing there, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was holding a six-pack of beer and a carton of eggs in one hand, the other casually resting in the pocket of his jeans.

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden appearance. "What? Oh, no, I was just... I was looking for s'mores," you explained awkwardly, holding up the ice cream like it was evidence.

He nodded, his smirk deepening a little as he glanced at the shelves. "Guess they’re out, huh?"

"Yeah, my luck tonight," you muttered, a little embarrassed to be caught standing here obsessing over ice cream in your loungewear. Not exactly how you wanted to run into the guy you were definitely not crushing on. How could you? He was the Wolverine, around 200 years old, and looked to be the age of your father. Well, if your father was still alive. Or if you ever got to know him.

Logan glanced at the shelf again and shrugged. "S'mores is overrated anyway."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment. "Oh really? What’s your go-to then, Mr. Anti-S'mores?"

He smirked, that same low, gravelly voice coming through as he responded. "Not much of an ice cream guy, but if I had to choose… probably plain vanilla. Simple. Not too sweet."

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you. "Of course you'd go for the most basic flavor."

His eyebrow twitched slightly at that, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes. "Sometimes simple’s the best option."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pint of vanilla. "Well, I guess I'll take your advice tonight, then. Not like I have much of a choice."

He gave you a brief nod, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there, but then Logan shifted slightly, his weight on one leg, clearly trying to mask the limp you'd noticed earlier. You weren’t sure if it was from the adamantium or something else, but it definitely wasn’t healing like it should. You found yourself biting your lip, wanting to ask but knowing better.

Instead, you went for something safer. "Laura’s doing well in class, by the way. She’s sharp. A little stubborn, but sharp."

He glanced down at you, a flicker of pride crossing his face. "Yeah, she’s a tough one." His expression softened as he added, "She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she likes you. Keeps her distance with most people."

Your heart fluttered a little at that. Laura was a bit of a mystery, rarely engaging much with the other teachers or students, so hearing that she’d let her guard down even a little with you meant more than you’d expected. "Well, she’s a good kid. I try not to push her too much."

Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you expected, like he was sizing you up in that quiet, brooding way of his. It made you feel both exposed and… oddly seen.

"Anyway," you said, breaking the silence, "I’ll let you get back to your shopping. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than stand around talking about ice cream."

He gave a small grunt that might’ve been a laugh, but it was so subtle you couldn’t be sure. "Yeah. See you around, Ms. Aberra."

"Y/N," you corrected, feeling a little awkward. "You can just call me Y/N."

He hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Y/N, then."

You gave him a small smile, feeling a strange warmth at the way your name sounded in his deep voice. He gave a nod before turning to leave, but as he walked away, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his retreating form. There was something about him—something rough, broken, but undeniably captivating.

---

The next morning, you pulled into the school parking lot, iced coffee in hand, still replaying your chance encounter with Logan at the grocery store. Why did it have to be the one night you went out in loungewear? If Emma ever found out, you'd never hear the end of it. You mentally braced yourself as you walked toward the building, determined to shake off any lingering thoughts about last night.

As you entered the teacher's lounge to drop off your things, Emma was already there, nursing her own cup of coffee. She spotted you immediately and raised an eyebrow.

"You look a little too chipper for a Wednesday," she teased.

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just happy to be halfway through the week."

"Uh-huh," she said, not quite convinced. "You didn't run into anyone interesting last night, did you?"

Your heart skipped a beat. How does she know?

"Like who?" you asked, trying to play dumb, but Emma's smirk told you she wasn't buying it.

"Oh, I don’t know... maybe a certain rugged cowboy-looking guy with a truck?" she said, her grin widening.

You groaned. "Seriously, do you have a sixth sense or something?"

"I knew it!" Emma practically squealed. "You did run into Logan, didn’t you? Come on, spill!"

You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. "It was nothing. We just ran into each other in the frozen section, talked for, like, two seconds. That’s it."

"Uh-huh, and?" Emma leaned forward, eager for details.

"And nothing. We talked about ice cream. He said s'mores was overrated."

Emma let out a dramatic gasp. "Overrated? Now, I know he's not perfect."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Yeah, well, that's the most thrilling part of my story, so feel free to be disappointed."

Emma shook her head, still grinning. "Oh, I'm not disappointed at all. This is just the beginning."

"There's nothing to begin, Emma," you said, exasperated. "He's just another parent."

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," she said with a wink before heading out to her classroom. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again as you followed her out into the hallway.

---

The morning passed uneventfully, but Laura had been quieter than usual in your class. Not that she was typically the most talkative kid, but today she seemed more distant, even from you. She’d finished her assignments early, as usual, but spent most of the class staring out the window instead of doodling in her notebook.

During lunch, you decided to check in with her. You found her sitting by herself outside, picking at the sandwich Logan had packed for her. You approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her.

"Hey, Laura," you greeted, taking a seat on the bench next to her. "Everything okay?"

She glanced at you, her expression as unreadable as always, before giving a slight shrug. "Yeah."

You studied her for a moment, noticing the way she kept her gaze low, avoiding eye contact more than usual. Something was definitely off. You knew better than to push too hard, but you also didn't want her to bottle everything up.

"Well, you know if you ever want to talk, I’m here," you said gently.

She gave another shrug, but this time, her eyes flickered up to meet yours briefly. "I know."

You nodded, letting the silence settle between you. Laura wasn’t one for big emotional outbursts—at least not around you—but you had a feeling she'd talk when she was ready.

"By the way," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood, "your dad said he don’t like s'mores ice cream. Is that true, or is he just weird?"

Laura looked up at you, her lips twitching slightly like she was trying not to smile. "I like s'mores."

"Thought so," you replied with a smirk. "Well, I’m officially questioning all of your dad's taste now."

Laura didn’t laugh, but her expression softened a little, and she took another bite of her sandwich. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress. You let her finish eating in peace, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you’d at least gotten her to relax.

---

The afternoon flew by, and soon enough, the end-of-day pickup routine was in full swing. You and Emma stood outside again, watching the usual parade of parents and cars. Logan’s truck was easy to spot as it pulled up to the curb. You tried to act like you weren’t paying attention, but of course, Emma caught you glancing over.

"Still nothing, huh?" she teased under her breath.

"Shut up," you muttered, doing your best to seem disinterested.

Logan stepped out of the truck, his usual stoic expression in place as he made his way toward the school. Laura was already waiting, standing near the steps with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw him and walked over without hesitation, but before they left, she turned back to you.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice a little softer than usual.

"See you tomorrow, Laura," you replied with a smile.

Logan gave you a nod as they walked past, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight limp in his step again. It was subtle, but there. Your curiosity piqued, but you pushed it down, reminding yourself it wasn’t your place to pry.

Emma, however, was still watching you closely. "You’re so not fooling anyone."

You shot her a look. "Seriously, get a hobby."

Emma just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, this is my hobby, Y/N. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it."

As you both stood there, watching the last of the kids get picked up, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time as it drove away. Emma’s teasing was getting on your nerves, but there was a part of you that couldn’t completely dismiss what she was saying.

Maybe you were a little curious. Just a little. But you weren’t about to admit that to anyone—not even yourself.

---

Over the weekend you decided it was time to get an oil change. You weren’t going to go to ‘Mavin’s Oil Change’, not after that happened. Which is why for the past few years you’ve been doing it yourself.

It wasn’t difficult, and it was a lot cheaper, both wins in your book.

You walked around the hardware store, glancing at the shelves as you carried a new oil drain pan. You paused in front of the rows of motor oil, scanning the labels. Conventional had always worked fine for you, but maybe this time you'd splurge on the synthetic blend. It wasn't a huge decision, but it felt like a small act of treating yourself, in a way.

You were debating the pros and cons of the oil options when you heard the sound of someone walking up behind you.

"Didn’t peg you for the kind to do your own oil changes."

You turned your head and were met with Logan’s familiar gravelly voice. There he was again—of all places, he’d found you here in the auto section of the hardware store.

"Yeah, well, it's cheaper this way," you replied with a casual shrug, hoping to mask the slight surprise in your voice. You gestured to the oil in front of you. "What about you? Conventional or synthetic blend?"

Logan glanced at the shelf, then back at you. "Conventional. Gets the job done."

"Figures." You grinned a little, grabbing the conventional oil off the shelf. "Guess I’ll stick with what I know too, then."

He raised an eyebrow at you, but there was a hint of amusement behind his usual stoic demeanor. "Figured you’d be one to overthink it. Synthetic’s not all it’s cracked up to be."

You chuckled. "I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Oil Expert."

He grunted in response, grabbing something off the shelf for himself. For a moment, you both stood there, surrounded by tools and motor oil, neither of you saying much. It was kind of nice—quiet, comfortable in a way you wouldn’t have expected.

You shifted, holding the oil pan in your hands. "So, is Laura doing anything fun this weekend?"

Logan glanced at you, his face softening slightly at the mention of his daughter. "Not much. She likes to keep busy, but… this town ain’t exactly got a lot going on."

"True," you nodded, biting your lip as you tried to think of something. "She could come by and help me out with my garden, if she’s interested. I know she likes plants."

Logan looked at you, a little longer than usual, and you wondered if you’d crossed some kind of line offering something so personal. But then he nodded. "She’d probably like that."

"Cool," you said, feeling oddly relieved that you hadn’t messed up. "Let me know if she wants to. I could use an extra set of hands."

He gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on you again for a second before he turned his attention back to the shelf. There was that same weight to his gaze, like he was always sizing things up, figuring people out.

"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I’m starting to think you’re stalking me. First the grocery store, now here. Should I be worried?"

Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Pretty sure it’s the other way around."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I’m just a simple schoolteacher who likes ice cream and doing her own oil changes. Hardly the stalking type."

"Sure," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly into what could almost be considered a smile.

You felt your own lips tugging into a grin, and for a moment, it felt easier. Logan wasn’t always the easiest person to talk to, but something about these small, random moments with him made you feel more at ease than you expected.

"Well, good luck with your oil change," he said, turning to head down another aisle. "Maybe see you around."

"Yeah, see you around," you replied, watching him walk away before you continued shopping, a strange warmth lingering in your chest.

As you walked toward the checkout, you couldn’t help but think back on how natural it felt, just talking to him. There wasn’t any awkwardness or forced conversation—just two people running into each other at the hardware store. Nothing to overthink. Except, maybe, the fact that you were starting to like these encounters more than you’d like to admit.

---

Logan blew out a breath of his cigar smoke. Laura said she didn’t like it when he smoked inside so he started doing it outside on the porch.

A small added bonus was seeing you, a few houses down, across the street, currently underneath your car getting the oil to drain.

The door opened and shut behind him as Laura stepped out, “ella te gusta,” she said softly.

He let out a huff, “kid, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura let out her own huff, sitting down next to Logan’s chair with her sketchbook, flipping it open. She didn’t say anything for a while, just started sketching in that intense, quiet way she had. Logan leaned back, puffing on his cigar, watching the smoke curl up into the air.

He caught himself glancing back across the street, where you were still working under your car. Laura's earlier comment lingered in his mind, even if he pretended not to know what it meant.

After a few minutes of silence, Laura looked up from her drawing. “You should go help her.”

Logan snorted, taking another puff of his cigar. “She’s fine. Knows what she’s doin’.”

Laura raised an eyebrow at him, her expression skeptical. “You’re always saying people shouldn’t be doin’ stuff like that alone. What if something happens?”

“Yeah, but she’s not helpless,” he grunted, though there was something in his tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

Laura shrugged and went back to her sketch. “Still think you should.”

Logan glanced at her, then back at you. You were sliding out from under the car, wiping your hands on your jeans, looking like you’d handled it just fine. He grunted again, though this time it was more to himself.

“What are you drawing?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

Laura held up her sketchbook, showing him a detailed drawing of a plant—a vine with thorns twisting around a branch. It reminded him of your garden, something about the way the plants seemed to grow wild but still had a certain beauty to them.

“That for Ms. Aberra?” Logan asked, the name slipping out before he could stop it. He tried to keep his tone casual, but Laura shot him a knowing look.

“Maybe.” She shrugged, but there was a smirk playing on her lips. “She likes plants. Thought she’d like this.”

Logan just nodded, staying quiet. He wasn’t about to get into a conversation with an eleven-year-old about why he’d noticed things about your garden or how you seemed to have a way with plants. That wasn’t his style.

“Why don’t you go show her?” Logan suggested, nodding toward you as you gathered up your tools.

Laura seemed to think about it for a second, then shook her head. “Maybe later. She’s busy.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t push it. He knew better than to try and make Laura do something if she wasn’t in the mood. The kid had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Though he supposes it was his fault.

A teenage girl who was walking a dog, a tan pit bull, stopped in front of your driveway, the dog happily wagging its tail as it patiently waited for you to say hello.

You were still wiping the oil off your hands when you noticed the pair. "Hey, there.” You smiled as you crouched down to greet Juno, who leaned eagerly into your hand, her tail wagging excitedly. "How are you, Juno?" you cooed, giving the pit bull a good scratch behind the ears.

The teenage girl holding the leash smiled politely. “She’s been dying to see you again,” she said, giving the leash a little slack so the dog could get closer.

"Well, I’m always happy to see her." You grinned as the dog nudged your leg, clearly wanting more attention. "Been a busy evening?”

The girl shrugged. “Yeah, but Juno here makes it better. You know how it is.”

You nodded. "Definitely. Plants are my version of Juno. Or baking, it’s hard to decide.”

The girl chuckled lightly before glancing at the car behind you. “Doing your own oil change?”

"Yep," you said, standing up and wiping your hands again on the rag. "Easier and cheaper than going to a shop."

She raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I wouldn’t even know where to start."

“You’d be surprised how easy it is. YouTube tutorials, mostly,” you said, shrugging as you wiped your hands on the rag.

The girl smiled. "I might have to try that next time. If I don’t mess up my car in the process.”

You laughed. "That’s what the tutorials are for. But yeah, it’s not too bad. You’d get the hang of it."

As you chatted with the girl for a bit longer, Juno continued to happily soak up the attention. You scratched behind her ears one more time before standing up straight. “Well, good luck with the rest of your walk. Always nice seeing you two.”

“Same here,” the girl replied, tugging gently on Juno’s leash. “C’mon, girl. Let’s get home.”

You waved as they continued down the street, Juno looking back at you with her tail wagging. With a satisfied sigh, you turned back to finish cleaning up, putting away the oil pan and bottles of motor oil.

Across the street, Logan puffed his cigar, watching as you gathered your tools and wiped your hands one more time. Laura had gone back to her sketching, though every now and then she’d glance up at him with that same look.

“She’s done now,” Laura said after a moment, still sketching.

“I can see that,” Logan grumbled, tapping ash off the end of his cigar.

“Still think you should go help,” she added, not even bothering to look up this time.

Logan huffed, staring at you as you double-checked your work and began packing up. He didn’t need to help—you were obviously handling everything just fine. But still, there was something about the way you worked so methodically, so determined. You’d done it all yourself, like you didn’t need anyone’s help. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling, though, that maybe he wanted to offer it anyway.

“Kid, you sure know how to push buttons,” he muttered under his breath.

Laura just smirked, flipping another page in her sketchbook.

Logan grumbled to himself for a moment longer before standing up from his chair, tapping out the last of his cigar in the ashtray. “Stay here.”

He walked across the street toward your driveway, hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes set on you as you knelt by the toolbox, sorting through the remaining tools.

“You done already?” he called out, making his presence known.

You glanced up, not expecting to see him again so soon. “Yeah, just finished up,” you replied, standing up and wiping your hands on the rag again. “What about you? Something break down?”

“Nah, just figured I’d see if you needed any help,” he said, his tone casual, though you could tell it wasn’t exactly his style to offer assistance without a reason.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. “You offering to help after the job’s already done?”

"Guess I am," Logan replied with a hint of a smirk, his eyes not quite meeting yours.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I suppose. Next time, I’ll be sure to save the hardest part for you."

"Yeah, you do that," he said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. He shifted his weight slightly, glancing over at the now-finished oil change. "You do this kind of thing often? Or just the oil changes?"

"Mostly just the oil changes," you admitted, as you leaned in closer like you were telling a secret. “I went on a few dates with Mavin’s son the first few months I was here and didn’t go over well. Now he overcharges me.” You held up your hands, “but if it’s something complicated, I promise I drive 30 minutes to the city to get it checked out.”

Logan's eyes flickered with interest, the corners of his mouth twitching into something resembling a smile. "That right? Well, can't say I'm surprised. Mavin's a bit of a jerk."

You chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, he wasn't thrilled about me ghosting his son, that's for sure. But hey, I learned how to change my own oil, so I guess something good came out of it."

Logan grunted in agreement, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't say much after that, his eyes lingering on you as if he were trying to piece together something that didn't quite fit. You had a feeling he wasn't used to people like you—people who seemed to find their way into his life, one way or another.

"Well," you said, breaking the silence, "thanks for the offer, even if the job’s already done." You smiled, a little uncertain about what to do next. "Guess I'll see you around."

He nodded, but didn't make a move to leave. "Laura likes you, you know."

That caught you off guard. "Oh," you replied, a bit flustered. "Well, I like her too. She's a good kid. Smart, but... you already know that."

"Yeah," Logan muttered, his voice softer than usual. "She doesn’t open up to many people. But you... you’re different."

You weren't sure how to respond to that, so you just nodded, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through your chest. "I’m glad she feels comfortable around me. She’s been through a lot."

Logan's eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. "More than most," he agreed, his voice rough with something that sounded a lot like guilt.

You wanted to reach out, to say something that might make him feel better, but words failed you. So instead, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, not awkward but charged with something unspoken.

"Anyway," Logan said, clearing his throat as if to shake off the heavy moment. "If you ever need help with the car, you know where to find me. Or Laura."

You smiled, feeling that warmth again. "I’ll keep that in mind. And if you two ever need help with, I don’t know, math homework or... anything else, you know where to find me."

He nodded, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Noted."

You watched as he turned to leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. As he walked back toward his house, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something more than just friendly encounters at the store.

---

During lunch, you sat in your classroom, enjoying 30 minutes of peace and quiet before the kids came back into the room. The soft hum of the heater filled the space, making the room feel warmer than usual as you flipped through the stack of quizzes you needed to grade. The formulas and diagrams were a blur as your mind drifted back to the weekend, specifically to Logan.

The way he’d offered to help with your oil change, the quiet moments that had followed—it was so unlike him. Or maybe, you realized, you just didn’t know him well enough yet. Either way, something about it had left you feeling... something.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, that cheeky grin on her face.

“So,” she started, stepping inside your classroom. “I hear you’re making friends with a certain someone across the street.”

You rolled your eyes, setting down the quiz you’d been half-grading. “I’m not ‘making friends.’ We just happen to run into each other.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Mhm. Sure. Totally normal for him to come help with your oil change, right?”

"My God, how do you know?" you asked, eyes widening in disbelief as you sat back in your chair.

Emma smirked, leaning against the doorway like she had all the time in the world. "Small town. You know how people talk." She paused, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Besides, you’re not exactly subtle. Logan? The gruff guy across the street? It’s hard to miss that you two have been... running into each other more than usual."

You sighed, rubbing your temple. "It’s not like that. He just offered to help with my car, and Laura—"

Emma’s grin widened. "Ah, Laura. That’s the key, isn’t it? I’ve seen how she looks at you. That kid doesn’t warm up to just anyone. She’s a little... prickly, but with you? She’s different."

"She’s a good kid," you said, trying to deflect. "She’s been through a lot, you know? I just think she needs someone to talk to. Someone who’s not... intimidating."

"Sure, sure," Emma teased, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of one of the desks. "But you can’t tell me there isn’t something more going on between you and Logan. I mean, come on. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the ‘friendly neighbor’ type. More like ‘leave me alone or I’ll stab you with my claws’ type."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Okay, yeah, he’s not exactly Mr. Rogers. But it’s not like we’re... you know, it’s just—"

"Flirting?" Emma offered with a raised eyebrow.

"Friendly," you corrected quickly, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "It’s just friendly. He’s Laura’s dad, and we’ve talked a few times, but that’s it."

Emma gave you a knowing look. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I’m the Queen of England."

You groaned, pushing your quizzes aside. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"

"Because," Emma said with a shrug, "it’s about time you had a little fun in this town. You spend all your time either at school or working on that garden of yours. You deserve to have a life outside of grading papers and pulling weeds."

"I have a life," you protested.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? And when was the last time you went on a date?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, realizing you didn’t have a good answer. "Okay, fine," you admitted, "it’s been a while. But that doesn’t mean—"

"Exactly my point," Emma interrupted, flashing a triumphant grin. "Look, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. But Logan? He’s clearly interested. And I think you are too."

"Okay… even if I was interested, I’m pretty sure a guy like that doesn’t have dating or relationships on his mind. Especially with someone like me." You leaned back in your chair, feeling a mix of frustration and doubt.

Emma gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. "Someone like you? Come on, Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re smart, funny, and clearly, Logan thinks you’re worth his time. He’s not just helping anyone with an oil change, believe me."

You sighed, crossing your arms. "It’s not that simple. You know what he’s been through. And Laura... she’s been through so much already. I’m not about to mess with their lives."

Emma smirked, tapping her fingers on the desk. "Mess with their lives? Or make their lives better? Laura clearly likes you, Y/N. She’s practically glued to your side when you’re around. And Logan? He’s different with you. I see it."

You frowned, picking up a pen and twirling it between your fingers. "Laura’s nice to me, yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s indifferent to most of the other teachers, and she barely talks in class. I don’t even know if she likes me, or if it’s just... I don’t know."

"She doesn’t warm up to just anyone," Emma pointed out. "You’re different. She looks at you like she trusts you, and Logan trusts you too, whether he shows it or not. That’s not something that happens often with them. They’re... well, guarded, for obvious reasons."

You were quiet for a moment, thinking about Laura. It was true—she was quiet, distant with others, but with you? There was something different. She’d even started staying after class sometimes, just sitting there while you graded papers or prepped for the next lesson. And Logan? He was always nearby, watching, but never intruding.

Still, the idea of anything happening between you and Logan felt... complicated. "Even if he did trust me, it’s not like he’s the type to be thinking about relationships. The man’s got enough on his plate. And me? I’ve got work, and... I’m not exactly relationship material."

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "Please, Y/N. If anyone deserves a chance at something real, it’s you. You’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else—your students, your job. Maybe it’s time to let someone take care of you for a change."

You looked at her, skeptical. "You think Logan is the type to 'take care of' someone?"

She smirked. "He already is. He’s just doing it in his own way. And trust me, the way he looks at you? There’s more there than you realize. You just have to stop overthinking it."

Before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Emma stood up, giving you one last knowing smile before heading for the door. "Just think about it, Y/N. Sometimes, the best things happen when you least expect them."

You watched her go, your mind still swirling with doubt and a tiny sliver of hope. Could there really be something more between you and Logan? Or was it just your imagination?

As your students started filing back into the room, you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the rest of the day. But even as you taught your lessons and graded papers, Logan lingered in the back of your mind.

---

Later that evening, you found yourself in the garden, pulling weeds and trying to clear your head. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the small town. You liked this time of day—the quiet, the calm.

Just as you were settling into the rhythm of pulling weeds, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you saw Logan standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Need any help?" he asked, his gruff voice breaking the silence.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, with the garden? I’m just pulling weeds."

He shrugged, stepping closer. "Doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands."

You smiled, feeling a bit awkward but oddly touched by the offer. "Sure, if you’re up for it."

Logan crouched down next to you, pulling at the weeds without saying much. The two of you worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the rustling of plants and the distant hum of traffic.

Eventually, you spoke up, trying to break the tension. "So... Laura’s been doing well in class. She’s quiet, but I think she’s starting to come out of her shell a bit."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah? That’s good to hear. She doesn’t talk much at home either."

"She’s a smart kid," you added, pulling another weed. "But I think... she could use someone to talk to. Someone she feels safe with."

Logan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "She’s been through a lot. Trust doesn’t come easy for her."

You hesitated, then asked, "What about you? Do you feel safe here?"

He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. "Safer than I’ve felt in a long time."

That simple admission hit you harder than you expected. Logan, this gruff, guarded man, was letting his walls down, even just a little. It made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

"That’s good," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. "I’m glad."

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt heavy but not uncomfortable. Logan’s presence was grounding, solid in a way that made you feel... safe too.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I appreciate what you’ve done for Laura. She doesn’t trust many people, but with you... it’s different."

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "I’m just doing my job. She’s a good kid, like I said."

Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "It’s more than that. She trusts you. And... so do I."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. There was something unspoken in the air between you, something neither of you was ready to address. But it was there, simmering just below the surface.

"Logan, I—"

Before you could finish, he stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it."

You stood up too, feeling the weight of what was left unsaid hanging in the air. "Thanks for the help."

He gave a brief nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to leave. "Anytime."

As you watched him walk away, your heart was pounding in your chest. There was no denying it now—there was something between you and Logan. Something real. And it scared you just as much as it excited you.

---

Parent-teacher conferences always stressed you out. Gathering all your students’ information, organizing it all, it was hectic and unreasonable. You couldn’t understand why an email didn’t suffice.

Possibly the worst thing about it is the fact it took place in the school gym, which had no AC. The heat was almost unbearable, making your clothes stick to your skin as you shuffled through your notes, waiting for the next parent to arrive to your table.

The gym was packed, parents and their kids moving between tables as they talked to teachers, making the already stifling room feel even hotter. You fanned yourself with the stack of notes you’d organized earlier, feeling sweat prickle at your back.

You glanced at your list of appointments, sighing when you saw who was next: Logan. You hadn't expected him to come. Laura was doing well enough in your class, but she wasn’t exactly the type to care about grades. You figured Logan would be the same—practical, but not overly concerned about school meetings.

You straightened up, glancing around to see him approaching with Laura by his side. She looked slightly uncomfortable, her arms crossed and her gaze focused anywhere but the gym, while Logan was, well... Logan. His expression was gruff, unreadable as usual, but there was something in his eyes that softened when he saw you.

“Ms. Aberra,” Logan greeted as he reached your table, giving you a nod.

“Logan,” you said, smiling at Laura. “And Laura. How are you two doing?”

Laura shrugged, barely meeting your gaze. Logan pulled out the chair for her, and she reluctantly sat down, still quiet. He stayed standing, leaning on the back of the chair, watching you with that familiar intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Laura’s doing fine in class. Really, there’s not much to talk about.”

Logan glanced at Laura, then back at you. “Figured I’d come by anyway. See how things are goin’.”

You nodded, pulling up Laura’s grades on your tablet. “Well, like I said, she’s doing great. She’s one of the best in the class, actually. Quiet, but I can tell she’s always thinking.”

Laura’s face remained impassive, but there was the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.

“She’s got potential,” you continued, looking at Logan. “Especially in science. I think she’d be great at anything she wanted to do, honestly.”

Logan grunted in response, but there was a proud glint in his eye. “That’s good to hear.”

Laura finally spoke up, her voice quiet but clear. “I like science. And math.”

You smiled, surprised by her willingness to engage. “Well, you’re really good at it. I was thinking, if you ever wanted, there are some extracurriculars coming up. Science club, math competitions—stuff like that. It might be fun.”

Laura glanced at Logan, who simply shrugged. “Up to you, kid.”

She seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded slightly. “Maybe.”

“Well, no pressure,” you said, trying to keep it casual. “You can always decide later.”

There was an awkward pause as you flipped through the rest of Laura’s grades, though there wasn’t much else to say. She was excelling, especially considering her background. You couldn’t help but feel a little protective over her, knowing what she’d been through.

“So, uh, anything else you need to know?” you asked, looking back up at Logan.

He shook his head. “Just wanted to check in, make sure she’s on track.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth in his words even if he didn’t show it. “She’s doing great. Really.”

Logan gave you a brief nod, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary before he straightened up. “Thanks.”

You watched as he turned to Laura, ready to leave, but she didn’t stand just yet. Instead, she glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowed slightly like she was piecing something together.

“Are you... friends?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the noise of the gym.

You blinked, taken aback by the question. Logan seemed just as surprised, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly recovered.

“Well,” you said slowly, glancing at Logan for a cue. “I guess you could say that.”

Logan cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

Laura’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t quite believe it but wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.”

She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor as she started toward the exit. Logan hesitated for a moment, giving you one last look before following her. “See you around,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

You watched them go, feeling that strange mix of emotions again—the warmth, the uncertainty, the possibility of something more. As the door closed behind them, you realized that, for once, you didn’t mind the heat. It was a small town, and people noticed everything. But you were starting to wonder if maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Laura grabbed his hand as they exited the gym, having already seen her other teachers. She looked up at Logan, as he stared straight ahead at the truck in the parking lot. “Creo que ella te gusta.”

He let out a huff, “kid, don’t know how many times I gotta say it, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura gave him a sidelong glance, clearly unimpressed by his response. "You should learn," she muttered under her breath, squeezing his hand as they reached the truck.

Logan grunted as he fumbled for the keys, a slight wince crossing his features as he slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at Laura, who was already buckling herself in without a word. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t quite easy either.

He turned the key in the ignition, the truck sputtering to life as he pulled out of the parking lot. His mind wandered back to the parent-teacher conference, and specifically to Y/N. She’d always been good with Laura, he could see that. But lately, something about her seemed to calm him too—a feeling he wasn’t used to and didn’t quite know how to handle.

“You like her,” Laura said, breaking the silence with her blunt observation. It wasn’t a question.

Logan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “She’s a good teacher. You like her, too.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, crossing her arms. “You act different when she’s around. You don’t growl as much.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any real humor. “I don’t growl.”

“Yes, you do,” Laura said, looking out the window. “But not at her.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the road, trying to push away the thoughts circling in his mind. He wasn’t a man used to... feelings, especially not ones that left him unsure. But Y/N had a way of sneaking under his defenses, and that scared him more than he’d like to admit.

“I like her,” Laura said quietly after a long stretch of silence.

Logan glanced at her, surprised by the soft admission. Laura didn’t trust people easily, and she certainly didn’t like many. But her words carried weight, especially to him.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Laura nodded, still looking out the window. “She’s not like the others. She doesn’t treat me like I’m different.”

Logan felt a knot in his chest loosen, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the relief of knowing Laura had found someone she trusted, or maybe it was the way Y/N had already become a part of their lives, without him even realizing it. Either way, he didn’t say anything more, just drove the rest of the way home in silence, lost in his own thoughts.

---

The next morning, you thanked the stars that it was Saturday. You were exhausted from the large amount of human interaction last night and decided to sleep in a bit before tending to the garden.

After that, and taking a shower, you slipped into comfortable clothes, some small shorts and a large t-shirt that covered the shorts, since it only getting warmer outside.

Even with that said, you couldn’t help but crave chocolate chip cookies, thanking the stars once again that you had all the ingredients.

You turned on the oven, allowing it to pre-heat, as you grabbed a mixing bowl and walked around your small kitchen looking for the ingredients listed on your worn-out piece of paper. You still hadn’t memorized the recipe after making it for years.

The doorbell ringed as you poked your head out the side of your kitchen. When you answered it, you were pleasantly surprised to find Laura outside, wearing what you could only describe as a cute grey shirt with a colorful bear on it. You’d never say it to her, she’d probably leave if you said she looked cute.

“Hey, Laura. D’you need anything?”

“Daddy said I could help with the garden.” She spoke softly.

“Oof, sorry kiddo. Already did it this morning.” You looked back inside your house before turning back to Laura, “though, I could use some help making cookies.”

Laura hesitated for a second, her dark eyes studying you as if trying to decide whether this was worth her time. You were still getting used to her quiet, guarded nature, but you’d learned quickly that she was different around you compared to other people. It was like you had some sort of unspoken understanding, even if you didn’t fully get why.

“Okay,” she finally said, stepping past you into the house.

You closed the door behind her, walking back into the kitchen and grabbing a second mixing bowl. “You ever make cookies before?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her.

Laura shook her head, standing by the counter as she watched you.

“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’m about to show you the magic of sugar, butter, and chocolate chips.” You grinned as you started measuring out the ingredients. “Can you hand me the brown sugar?”

She scanned the countertop before reaching for the brown sugar, silently passing it to you. You got the feeling she wasn’t used to this kind of thing—normal, mundane stuff like baking cookies on a lazy Saturday. Not that you knew her whole story or anything, but you’d heard enough about Logan and his complicated life to guess Laura hadn’t had a typical upbringing.

As you started mixing the butter and sugar together, you tried to think of something to say. Conversations with Laura could be tricky; she wasn’t the chatty type, and you didn’t want to push her too much.

“So,” you started, keeping your tone casual, “what’s Logan up to today?”

She shrugged. “Resting.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Logan resting was a good thing. You knew he’d been having a rough time lately with his health, even though he wasn’t the type to admit it. You figured he was just being stubborn, refusing to slow down even though it was clear his healing wasn’t what it used to be.

Laura remained silent, watching as you added the flour to the mix.

“You wanna stir?” you asked, offering her the spatula.

She looked at it for a moment before stepping closer and taking it from you. Her movements were careful, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but smile as she focused on the task.

“Nice job,” you said, giving her a thumbs-up. “You’ve got a future in cookie-making, I can tell.”

Laura didn’t react much, but you swore you saw the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

As she stirred, you reached for the chocolate chips. “Best part of making cookies—sneaking a few of these before they go in the dough.” You tossed a couple into your mouth, then held the bag out to her.

She paused, looking at the chocolate chips like she wasn’t sure what to do. After a second, she picked one up and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.

You chuckled. “See? Told you it’s the best part.”

Laura kept stirring the dough while you got the baking sheets ready. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just… quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Laura wasn’t the type of kid who needed constant conversation, and you appreciated that about her.

As she worked, you glanced at her again, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. You didn’t know what exactly she’d been through, but whatever it was, you could tell it had shaped her into someone far older than her years.

When the dough was ready, you started scooping it onto the trays. “Almost done,” you said. “Then it’s just a waiting game while they bake.”

Laura nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she watched you.

You slid the trays into the oven and set the timer before turning back to her. “You want some water or anything while we wait?”

She shook her head, her eyes still on the oven like she was trying to figure out why people made such a big deal out of cookies.

“Well, I’m grabbing a drink.” You poured yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you sipped. “It’ll take around 12 minutes for them to finish. Then we put in another batch, and another until the dough has all been used.”

Laura gave a small nod, her eyes still focused on the oven. It was like she was trying to figure out if all this waiting was actually worth it.

You studied her for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. She never really said much, but it was clear there was a lot happening behind those dark, watchful eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why she’d taken to you, but you were grateful for it. Laura didn’t let many people in, that much was obvious.

“I can show you a movie. Or maybe some music? I usually play somethin’ while I wait.”

Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Music,” she said quietly.

You smiled, glad she was at least open to that. “Cool. Let’s see what we got.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your playlist, landing on something mellow, nothing too upbeat or distracting. You hit play, letting the soft sounds of a guitar fill the room.

Laura leaned against the counter, listening, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t fidgety or impatient, just quiet, like she was absorbing everything around her.

You took another sip of water, watching her from the corner of your eye. “You ever help Logan with stuff like this? Like cooking?”

She shook her head. “No.”

You figured as much. “Well, if he ever asks, you’ll be a pro now.” You winked at her, earning the tiniest of shrugs in return.

You both stood there in a comfortable silence, letting the music play. It wasn’t awkward, just… peaceful. The smell of the cookies starting to bake filled the kitchen, and for a moment, it was easy to forget all the heavy stuff hanging in the air—Logan’s health, Laura’s past, whatever weight she carried that you didn’t fully understand yet.

After a few minutes, Laura spoke up. “I talked to Logan about you… last night.”

You paused, surprised she’d bring it up. “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”

She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the oven. “He said you’re... different from other people. In a good way.”

A warmth crept into your chest at that. “Well, that’s nice of him to say. I think he’s pretty different too, you know. In a good way.”

Laura looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He likes you,” she said, her tone flat, but there was something in the way she said it, like it was a fact she was still processing.

You felt your cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah? Well… I like him too.”

She stared at you for a moment longer before nodding slowly, like she was piecing something together in her head. “He doesn’t trust people. But he trusts you.”

You swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I’m glad he does. I mean… I care about him, Laura. And you too.”

Laura’s eyes flickered with something—maybe understanding, maybe something else you couldn’t quite name. She didn’t say anything for a while, just looked down at the floor.

Before the silence could stretch too long, the oven timer beeped, cutting through the moment.

“Cookies are done,” you said, turning to grab the oven mitts. You pulled the trays out, setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was even stronger now, warm and sweet, filling the entire kitchen. “Wanna taste test one?”

Laura hesitated for a second before nodding.

You carefully lifted a cookie from the tray, holding it out to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”

She took it, blowing on it before taking a small bite. You watched as she chewed, her face still neutral, but you could tell she liked it.

“Good, right?” you asked, biting into one yourself.

Laura nodded again, chewing slowly. For a split second, you thought you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

As you both stood there, munching on cookies, the air felt lighter, like some kind of invisible barrier between you had shifted just a little. You didn’t know all of Laura’s story, but you didn’t need to. What mattered was that she was here, sharing this small moment with you, and that was enough.

“So,” you said after a few minutes, breaking the silence. “What should we do next? More cookies? Or maybe try out that movie?”

Laura looked at the remaining dough, then back at you. “More cookies.”

You grinned. “Good choice. Let’s make this batch even better.”

---

After all the cookies came out of the oven, you sent Laura home with a container of some of the batch. You could never eat them all on your own, and you ended up giving some away anyways, so why not give some to Laura?

You walked Laura to your front door and watched as she crossed the street, her figure disappearing behind the door three houses down. There was always something surreal about the way she moved—so quiet, so controlled, like she had learned to blend into the background. It made you wonder what her life had been like before coming here.

When Laura walked in, the container held tightly to her chest, Logan sat on the couch, the soft murmur of the TV barely audible as he sipped from a whiskey bottle. His eyes flicked over to her as the door clicked shut behind her.

“You were gone a while,” he muttered, his voice rough but not harsh.

Laura shrugged, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Made cookies.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, watching her disappear from view. The faint clinking of a container hitting the counter reached his ears. He knew she didn’t do stuff like this unless someone dragged her into it. “With Y/N?” he asked, taking another sip.

Laura reappeared, nodding as she plopped down beside him on the couch, the container of cookies now on the coffee table.

Logan stared at it for a moment, then gave a small grunt of approval. He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the container, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness that felt out of place in his usual world of bitterness and whiskey.

“Not bad,” he muttered, glancing at Laura. “You help with these?”

She shrugged again, still watching the TV, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her expression that didn’t go unnoticed by Logan.

“Hmm,” he grunted, leaning back. “Maybe next time, you can bring some whiskey to wash ‘em down.”

Laura didn’t smile, but her lips twitched slightly as if she was trying not to.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the low hum of the TV filling the room. Logan’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He didn’t trust people easily—never had, and probably never would. But Y/N was different. He’d seen how she handled Laura, how she didn’t push too hard or ask too many questions. And she was patient, something Logan knew he didn’t have much of.

“Y/N’s a good one,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Laura didn’t say anything, but she shifted slightly, leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

Logan watched her for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. He knew settling down wasn’t really in his nature, but for Laura’s sake—and maybe a bit for his own—he was trying. And Y/N? She made that easier, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“She ask about me?” Logan asked, more curious than he wanted to let on.

Laura nodded, her eyes still on the screen. “Yeah. I told her you were resting.”

Logan snorted. “Resting. That’s a nice way of putting it.”

Laura didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t push further. He knew what Y/N probably thought—that he was just some grumpy guy with a limp, maybe a few too many scars for comfort. She didn’t know the half of it. But she didn’t pry either, and for that, he was grateful.

“Guess I’ll have to thank her for the cookies,” Logan said after a while, taking another sip from the bottle. His mind wandered to the thought of Y/N—the way she smiled when she was around Laura, how she always seemed to have the right balance of patience and understanding. It wasn’t just anyone who could handle a kid like Laura, let alone make her feel comfortable enough to bake cookies on a Saturday.

“She likes you too, you know,” Laura said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Y/N,” Laura clarified, her tone as flat as ever. “She likes you.”

Logan chuckled, though there was a bit of discomfort behind it. “You don’t know that, kid.”

Laura looked at him, her gaze piercing and a little too wise for someone her age. “She does. I can tell.”

Logan stared back at her, caught off guard by how matter-of-fact she sounded. It was hard to argue with Laura when she had that look on her face, the same look that said she saw through everything and didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

He cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well… that’s her problem, not mine.”

Laura didn’t react, just turned back to the TV. But Logan could feel her eyes on him for a few seconds longer before she settled back into the cushions.

Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Laura’s words hanging in the air. He wasn’t used to people ‘liking’ him in the way Laura seemed to imply. People tolerated him, sure, maybe even respected him, but liking him? That was new territory.

He let out a sigh and reached for another cookie. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not right now.

But even as he chewed in silence, he couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N—and what it might mean if Laura was right.

---

A few days later, you found yourself at Logan’s house helping Laura with some of her English homework. You usually don’t make ‘house calls’ to help students, but you couldn’t deny Laura.

Logan stayed seated in the living room, drinking a beer and watching the TV. But really, he was pretending not to listen to their conversation in the kitchen.

“You’re doing good, Laura.” You said.

Laura shrugged, her eyes flicking over to Logan in the living room. “Can you stay for dinner?” She asked you.

Logan’s head snapped up at that. He hadn’t expected Laura to ask, but there was no denying that the kid had gotten attached to you. Before you could answer, Laura added, “I made something. With Logan.”

That was a lie, of course. Laura had barely touched the stove since the cookies, but she gave Logan a look that told him to back her up.

Y/N smiled softly. “I wouldn’t say no to dinner.” She glanced at Logan. “If that’s okay?”

Logan grunted, shifting his weight. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Laura gave a small nod, clearly satisfied with the answer. You smiled, pushing the papers aside. “Guess I’m staying for dinner, then.”

Logan shot Laura a look, one that said what exactly are we eating? but she ignored him, turning her attention back to you. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said, which wasn’t reassuring.

“Well, I’m excited. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it,” you joked, standing up to stretch your arms.

Logan watched you from the corner of his eye as he sat back down on the couch, pretending to be more interested in the muted TV than he actually was. You couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed a little tenser whenever you were around, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He was trying to stay low-key, but you could tell he was keeping tabs on every move you made, every word you said.

“So, what’s on the menu?” you asked, trying to ease the quiet that had settled over the room.

Laura, sitting across from you, didn’t answer right away, like she was carefully considering her next move. Logan’s eyes flicked over to her, waiting for her response.

“Spaghetti,” she finally said, her voice as flat as ever.

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh yeah? Sounds good.”

Logan gave a low grunt from the couch, and you could tell by his expression that he was trying to figure out when they’d supposedly made spaghetti. But he didn’t contradict Laura, just took another swig from his beer.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” you said, standing up from the kitchen table. “Let me know if you need any help.”

Laura didn’t say anything, just headed to the stove where a pot of water was already simmering. You followed her, glancing at the nearly-empty box of spaghetti on the counter. It was clear she hadn’t done this a lot, but the effort was what mattered. And if it meant spending more time with her—and Logan—you weren’t about to complain.

“I’ll get the sauce going,” you offered, stepping beside her. Laura gave you a slight nod, sliding over to make room.

Logan watched from the couch, his eyes narrowing as if he was weighing the situation. He hadn’t expected you to just roll with it, but then again, you always had a way of adapting.

“So, how’s school?” you asked Laura, trying to keep the conversation light while you opened the jar of sauce.

“It’s fine,” she said, her tone noncommittal.

You stirred the sauce, giving a little shrug. “Well, if you ever need help with any other type of homework, you know where to find me.”

She glanced up at you, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes softened for a second. “I know.”

The two of you worked in quiet sync, with Laura focusing on the pasta and you keeping an eye on the sauce. It wasn’t long before the kitchen started to smell of tomatoes and garlic, the scent filling the air and making the small space feel cozy. For a while, the only sounds were the bubbling pot and the clinking of utensils.

Logan shifted on the couch, clearing his throat. “Need me to do anything?”

You glanced back at him with a smile. “Just sit there and look pretty, Logan. We’ve got this.”

A low chuckle escaped him, though his face didn’t change much. “That so?”

Laura glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, but you caught the briefest hint of approval in her eyes before she turned back to stirring the pasta.

Once everything was ready, you and Laura brought the food to the small dining table. You plated up the spaghetti, topping it with sauce and a sprinkle of Parmesan. Logan joined you both, moving slower than he probably realized, and sat down with a grunt.

As you all ate, the room stayed comfortably quiet. It wasn’t one of those forced silences that felt awkward—it was more like everyone was just settling into the moment. Laura was still guarded, but you could tell she was starting to relax, even if it was just a little.

“You did good, Laura,” you said, twirling some spaghetti on your fork. “This tastes great.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept eating, but you saw her shoulders ease up ever so slightly.

Logan, on the other hand, glanced between the two of you, chewing slowly. He hadn’t been big on cooking or anything domestic like this, but he could tell Laura had put in effort. He took another bite, grunting his approval. “Not bad,” he said quietly.

You smiled to yourself. This whole thing wasn’t exactly what you’d planned for the evening, but it was nice in its own way—just simple, like normal people having dinner together.

As you were finishing up, Logan pushed his chair back, grabbing his beer bottle from the table. “I’ll handle the cleanup,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

You raised an eyebrow, standing to gather a few plates. “You sure?”

Logan waved you off. “Yeah. Laura and I got it.”

You nodded, stepping back. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”

Laura watched you quietly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Logan. You could tell she wasn’t used to this kind of thing, the casual ease of sharing a meal and cleaning up afterward. But she was learning, and it seemed like she didn’t mind having you around for it.

“Well,” you said, grabbing your bag from the chair. “Thanks for dinner, you two. I’ll see you around?”

Logan grunted in acknowledgment, giving you a nod. Laura followed you to the door, her small figure standing by your side as you reached for the handle.

Before you could leave, she spoke up. “Will you come over again?” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

You smiled softly. “Of course. Anytime.”

She nodded, her face still unreadable, but there was a certain calmness to her now, a trust that hadn’t been there before.

You gave her a little wave before stepping out into the evening air. As you walked back to your house, you couldn’t help but think about how unexpected this had all been.

---

You muttered to yourself, hanging up the phone. Your sink had started to leak, and even though you were fairly handy, when you tightened the pipes, it did nothing.

So here you were, on your lunch break, looking for a handyman that didn’t want to charge you $200 for a quick fix.

Emma walked in, holding a folder with her lesson plans. “So…”

You rolled your eyes, “don’t start.”

“What! I’ve told you, word travels fast. Rose saw you leavin’ his house last night.”

“Rose?” You shook your head, “that woman is 85 and still gossips like she’s 20.” You put your phone down, “I was helping Laura with her English homework.”

"Helping Laura with her English homework?" Emma raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "You mean, at ten o'clock at night? Sure, Y/N."

You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “It wasn’t like that. She’s struggling with some of the writing prompts, and Logan’s... well, you know he’s not exactly the best person for that.”

“Uh-huh,” Emma nodded slowly, setting her folder down. “I’m just saying, you and him… there’s something there. You can deny it all you want, but people see things.”

“People need hobbies,” you muttered. “Besides, Logan’s... complicated. It’s not that simple.”

“I’m not saying it is,” she shrugged. “But you’ve been spending more and more time with him and Laura lately. I’m just curious.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “Curious about what, exactly?”

“Just curious when you're going to admit you like him,” Emma smirked.

“I don’t—" you started to argue, but stopped yourself. “Emma, he’s… I mean, I care about him, but it’s not like that. He’s a single dad with a kid, and I’m just the neighbor who helps out sometimes.”

“Yeah, sure, Y/N.” Emma grabbed her folder and gave you a pointed look, “if you don’t make a move, someone on the ‘Wolverine Watchers’ will.”

You choked on the iced coffee you took a sip of, “the what?”

Emma grinned, “the ‘Wolverine Watchers’. A bunch of women in the town created a Facebook group about him. I joined out of curiosity.”

You blinked at Emma, still processing what she’d just said. “Hold on—there’s a Facebook group about Logan? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Emma said with a smug smile. “They call themselves the ‘Wolverine Watchers.’ There’s, like, at least 30 women in it. Maybe more.”

You shook your head in disbelief, sinking back into your chair. “That’s insane. Why would anyone even...”

“Oh, please,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it. He’s rugged, mysterious, barely speaks to anyone, and he’s got the whole grumpy-silver-fox thing going on. They eat it up. Hell, even I get it.”

You glared at her. “You’re not helping.”

She leaned against the desk, still grinning. “Just saying, don’t wait too long, or one of them might swoop in.”

You waved her off, though a part of you felt oddly defensive about the whole thing. “Logan’s not interested in any of that.”

Emma shrugged, pushing off the desk and heading for the door. “Maybe. Maybe not. But are you interested?”

You opened your mouth to respond before shaking your head. “Okay. I’m going to forget this part of our conversation and continue to try and look for a plumber or handyman.”

Emma laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Fine, fine. But if you need help with Logan or plumbing, you know where to find me.”

She left the room at the same time Laura walked in. She walked over to the front of your desk and stared at you with those eyes of hers. “You need help?” Laura finally asked.

You shook your head, “no. Just need a plumber. The sink in my kitchen is leakin’.”

Laura tilted her head slightly, considering something. “Why don’t you ask daddy?”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Because your dad’s busy, and it’s not his problem to deal with. I’ll figure it out.”

“He fixed the dishwasher last week,” she pointed out quietly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And the dryer.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to bother him with stuff like this,” you countered, trying to ignore how her face lit up every time she mentioned something Logan had done for you. “I’m sure he’s got enough on his plate.”

Laura didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against your desk, her small fingers tapping lightly on the wood. “He likes helping,” she murmured, almost like she was testing the waters.

You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, but quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the bulletin board behind you. “He’s good at fixing things.”

You watched her for a moment, your irritation from earlier starting to melt away. It was hard to stay frustrated when she was being so earnest. “Okay, okay, I get it. But your dad doesn’t need to be the town’s go-to handyman.”

Laura glanced up at you through her lashes. “Just tell him. Please?”

There was something almost… hopeful in her gaze, and you felt a twinge of guilt. Laura wasn’t the type to ask for much. If this meant that much to her…

“Fine,” you sighed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’ll ask him. But only because you asked nicely.”

Laura’s lips twitched in the faintest smile, a look of victory crossing her face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but you’re not off the hook yet,” you teased gently. “You still owe me an essay on Newton’s laws of motion, remember?”

She scrunched up her nose, making a face. “I know. I’ll finish it.”

“Good,” you nodded, giving her a playful wink. “And don’t go trying to bribe me with homework just to get me to talk to your dad, okay?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I would never.”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Alright, head back to class. Lunch is almost over.”

She gave a small nod, then glanced back at you before leaving. “He really likes you, you know.”

Your heart stuttered, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Laura—”

“Just saying,” she added quickly before ducking out the door and heading down the hallway.

You stared at the empty doorway, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Liking you? What did that even mean coming from an eleven-year-old?

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. Logan was… well, Logan. Gruff, quiet, and often impossible to read. And sure, he’d been more present lately, but that didn’t mean anything. He was just being a good neighbor.

You glanced at the time on your phone, groaning softly. Lunch was almost over, and you hadn’t even finished setting up for the afternoon class.

“Guess I’ll ask him about the sink,” you muttered under your breath, more to convince yourself than anything.

Because if Laura was already noticing things, how long would it be before the whole town started talking?

---

That evening, after school had ended and you’d finally managed to get through the rest of your lesson plans, you found yourself standing in front of Logan’s place. It was only a short walk down the street, and yet, your feet felt heavier with each step.

You could hear the faint sound of a TV through the open window and the soft murmur of voices—Laura and Logan, probably talking about her day. It was… nice. Domestic. Something that made your chest tighten with an inexplicable emotion.

“Just ask about the sink and go,” you whispered to yourself, giving a firm nod. “No big deal.”

You knocked lightly, and a few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Logan. He was in his usual attire—flannel shirt, jeans—and he looked at you with that same unreadable expression.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. “I, uh, wanted to ask for a favor.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. “What’s goin’ on?”

You hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My kitchen sink started leaking, and… well, I tried fixing it, but I think I made it worse. Laura said you’re good at this kind of stuff, so I thought… maybe…”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You want me to take a look at it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “If you’re not too busy. I don’t want to—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, already grabbing a toolbox from a nearby shelf. “Let’s go.”

You blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to, like, finish dinner or something first?”

He shot you a look that was almost amused. “I’m not gonna let your kitchen flood because of a sink. C’mon.”

You let out a small laugh, relieved by his reaction. “Okay, fair point. Thanks, Logan.”

“No problem,” he grunted, stepping out onto the porch. “Lead the way.”

As you walked back to your place, you stole a glance at him. Logan might have been gruff and intimidating to most people, but you’d come to learn there was more to him than that.

When you reached your house, Logan set to work immediately, inspecting the pipes under the sink. You leaned against the counter, watching as he tinkered and adjusted, his movements methodical and precise.

“You didn’t have to come over right away,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

He didn’t look up, just shrugged. “It’s fine. Better to fix it now than let it get worse.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “But still… thanks.”

Logan glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than usual. “You don’t gotta thank me every time I do somethin’ for you, Y/N.”

“I know,” you replied, offering a small smile. “But I want to.”

He gave a low grunt, something between acknowledgment and dismissal, and returned his focus to the pipes. You stayed silent, watching him work, trying to make yourself useful by occasionally handing him a tool or holding a flashlight.

“You’ve done this before, huh?” you asked, breaking the silence again.

Logan didn’t look up, but you saw the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Couple times.”

“Fixing sinks?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Or just everything?”

“Everything,” he muttered. “You learn to handle stuff when no one else can.”

There was an unspoken weight behind his words, something you didn’t pry into. You knew Logan had been through more than he let on—there were pieces of his life you still hadn’t put together, and you weren’t sure you ever would. But that didn’t stop you from being curious.

Instead, you chose to keep the conversation light. “Well, I appreciate it. I probably would’ve made a bigger mess if I’d kept trying.”

He grunted again, this time almost in agreement, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, I walked into that one,” you admitted. “But seriously, thank you. Laura was right—you are good at this.”

Logan tightened the last pipe and stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “She talks too much sometimes.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “She’s just proud of you.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes darkening for a brief moment before he shifted the subject. “It’s done. Shouldn’t leak anymore, but if it does, just call me.”

You nodded, feeling that strange tightening in your chest again. “Got it. Thanks again.”

Logan grabbed his toolbox and started for the door, but something in the air between you both felt unfinished, like there was something unspoken hanging there. Before you could second-guess yourself, you called out.

“Logan?”

He paused, his back to you.

“I meant what I said earlier,” you continued, a little more quietly this time. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to add to it. But I appreciate you helping me.”

Logan turned, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place. For a second, you thought he might say something, but then he just gave a slow nod.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he finally said. “If you need somethin’, I’ll be around.”

He turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in your kitchen, staring after him. You exhaled, feeling a mix of confusion and warmth.

Later that evening, as you cleaned up and prepared for the next day’s lessons, you couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in your head. Logan’s quietness, his willingness to help, Laura’s knowing smiles. There was something stirring there, something more than just neighborly concern.

But you pushed the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the practicalities. Logan was a single dad with a complicated past, and you… well, you had your own life to focus on. This wasn’t the time to start overthinking things.

Still, as you drifted off to sleep that night, the image of Logan fixing your sink—focused, calm, and oddly comforting—stayed with you.

---

You’ve never liked storms. You’re not sure why, you grew up in Houston where it rained consistently and encountered a few hurricanes.

But when you turned 18, you went to college further north in Texas, getting away from the rain and finally getting sunshine and real heat, not humid heat.

It never rained much in the north of Minnesota, but when it did rain, it rained a lot. So much so that the school cancelled classes for the rest of the week.

You could use the time to catch up on grading assignments, but instead you found yourself barely able to keep your attention on the TV, flinching every time you heard thunder.

The storm outside raged on, lightning flashing every few seconds, followed by the rumble of thunder that rattled the windows. You glanced at the stack of papers you’d set aside to grade, but your mind just wasn’t in it.

“Why does it always feel worse at night?” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to focus on the TV.

Then, a knock at the door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially with the weather this bad.

You got up, hesitating for a second before opening the door to reveal Laura, soaked from head to toe, holding a small flashlight.

“Laura? What are you doing out here?” you asked, eyes wide with concern.

“Our power went out,” she explained quickly, shivering slightly. “Daddy said I could come over here since your lights are still on.”

You frowned, glancing past her toward Logan’s house, which was barely visible in the heavy rain. “Is your dad coming over too?”

Laura shrugged, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “He said he’d figure it out.”

You closed the door behind her, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and handing it to her. “You should’ve just called, you know. I would’ve come to get you.”

Laura gave you a small smile as she dried off. “It’s fine. I didn’t want to wait.”

You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at her stubbornness. “Of course you didn’t.”

The two of you sat in the living room for a while, Laura settling into the corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, still glancing out the window at the storm every so often.

“How long’s the power been out?” you asked after a few minutes.

“Since just after dinner,” she replied. “Daddy was gonna try and fix it, but he said it might take a while.”

You nodded, already feeling a little guilty. If the power didn’t come back on soon, you’d probably end up with both of them staying over. Not that you minded, but it was one of those situations where you didn’t want to impose. Especially with Logan.

Almost on cue, there was another knock at the door, this one heavier, more deliberate.

You didn’t even have to look to know it was Logan.

You opened the door to find him standing there, drenched like Laura had been. His hair was plastered to his head, and his usual gruff expression was softened slightly by the rain dripping from his face.

“Come on in,” you said quickly, stepping aside.

Logan entered, shaking off some of the rain before giving you a nod. “Thanks. Power’s out, and I don’t think it’s comin’ back anytime soon.”

You closed the door behind him and offered him a towel, which he accepted without a word. He glanced over at Laura, who had made herself comfortable on the couch, and then back at you.

“You alright with us bein’ here?” he asked, his voice low but genuine.

“Of course,” you replied, waving it off. “I’m not gonna let you sit in the dark with no heat.”

Logan nodded, though there was something in his eyes—something like gratitude, though he didn’t voice it.

The three of you sat in the living room for a while, the storm still raging outside. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable silence, but it wasn’t awkward either. Just... quiet. Logan wasn’t one for small talk, and Laura seemed content just to be around people, her gaze flicking back and forth between you and her dad.

As the night wore on, the storm didn’t let up, and Laura’s eyelids started to droop. You glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting.

“You’re welcome to stay the night,” you offered, glancing between them. “It’s still coming down pretty hard out there, and I don’t think the power’s coming back on soon.”

Laura perked up at the suggestion, but Logan hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “We’ll be fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t wanna impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “There’s a guest bedroom, and I’ve got blankets. Besides, I’m not letting either of you walk back in this mess.”

Laura, sensing her opportunity, chimed in before Logan could object. “I want to stay,” she said quietly, her eyes big and hopeful.

Logan sighed, glancing at his daughter, clearly torn. “Laura…”

“Daddy, it’s still storming,” she added, her voice soft but insistent. “We can stay, right?”

You jumped in before he could refuse. “It’s no trouble, Logan. Really. Laura can take the guest bedroom, and I can sleep on the couch.”

Logan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not sleepin’ on the couch in your own house.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s your bed,” he grunted. “I’ll take the couch.”

Before you could argue, Laura piped up again, her voice full of innocent mischief. “You could both sleep in the bed.”

Your eyes widened, and you quickly glanced at Logan, whose expression had shifted to one of slight surprise.

“Laura,” you started, but she just shrugged, clearly enjoying this more than she should have been.

“What?” she said innocently. “It’s a big bed.”

Logan sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re not helpin’, kid.”

Laura just grinned, her eyes gleaming with quiet victory. “I think I am.”

You cleared your throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m fine with sleepin’ on the couch, really. Can’t really sleep when it’s stormin’ anyways.”

Laura, still lounging on the couch, piped up again, her grin growing wider. “You could just share the bed.”

Your face flushed, and you shot her a look. “Laura—”

“What?” She shrugged, playing innocent, but you could see the hint of mischief in her eyes.

Logan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kid, stop messin’ around.”

She held up her hands in surrender, but the teasing smile on her face didn’t budge. “I’m just saying it’s an option.”

You shook your head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Laura, you’re gonna sleep in the guest room. I’ll be on the couch. End of story.”

Laura rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine.”

Logan glanced at you, his eyes softening for a brief moment before he muttered, “You sure about this? I don’t wanna take your bed.”

You waved him off, trying to sound casual. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just get some rest. You’ve been out in the rain long enough.”

He hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. “Alright. But only because you won’t stop arguin’.”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling a little as you grabbed an extra blanket from the hallway closet and tossed it to Laura. “You can get settled in the guest room, kiddo.”

Laura caught the blanket and headed toward the guest room with a little bounce in her step, clearly pleased with how things were turning out. You watched her disappear down the hallway before turning back to Logan, who was still standing in the living room, looking somewhat out of place.

“You can leave your wet clothes by the door if you want,” you offered, trying to keep things normal, even though the situation felt anything but.

Logan gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, pulling off his soaked jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. He moved slowly, like he was still debating whether to argue about the sleeping arrangements again, but thankfully, he didn’t.

After a minute, he glanced back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You really are stubborn, you know that?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you toward your bedroom. “Fair enough.”

Once he disappeared into the room, you let out a small sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was... not how you expected your night to go. Sharing your house with both Logan and Laura during a storm, with Laura sneakily playing matchmaker. It was almost funny, if not for the fact that Logan being this close made your heart race a little too much for comfort.

You settled back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over yourself and staring at the TV screen without really watching it. The sound of rain pounding against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder filled the quiet, but it was hard to focus on the storm when you knew Logan was in the next room.

Laura had probably planned this all along.

You glanced toward the hallway where the guest room was, wondering if she was already asleep—or if she was lying there, scheming her next move.

Thunder broke you out of your thoughts, making you flinch slightly under the blankets.

You settled deeper into the couch, but sleep wasn’t coming any easier despite the exhaustion from the day. Your mind kept wandering, mostly back to Logan and how natural it had started to feel having him and Laura around. Maybe a little too natural.

A sharp crack of thunder rattled the windows, and you flinched again, instinctively pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You’d thought you were getting used to storms, but this one was relentless, dragging on with no signs of easing up.

Just when you started to think you’d be up all night, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. You turned, expecting to see Laura coming out of the guest room, but instead, Logan stood there in the dim light of the living room, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady, despite the storm.

He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “Not used to sleepin’ anywhere but my own bed.”

You nodded, biting back a knowing smile. “Yeah, I get that. Storm’s not helping much either.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the window, then back to you. His gaze was a little softer than usual, like the storm had taken some of the edge off his usual roughness. “You alright? Heard you jumpin’ every time the thunder hits.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his concern. “It’s nothing. Just... not a fan of storms.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Logan said, stepping further into the room. He hesitated for a moment, then moved to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Don’t have to tough it out, y’know.”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be this open, to offer any sort of comfort. He usually kept things buried under layers of gruffness and distance.

“Guess I’m just used to toughing it out,” you said softly, offering him a small smile.

Logan studied you for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You don’t always have to. Not with us.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to say. This side of Logan—the quiet, protective side—was something you’d only seen glimpses of before, but tonight, it was like the storm had brought down some of his walls.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you finally said, but your voice lacked its usual conviction.

“Not worryin’,” Logan replied, his gaze steady. “Just statin’ a fact.”

The thunder rolled again, quieter this time, as if the storm was finally starting to let up. Logan’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, before he stood up, looking like he was about to head back to the bedroom.

But then he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “If you want... there’s room in the bed.”

Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, not sure if you heard him right. “What?”

Logan’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but his expression remained serious. “I ain’t suggestin’ what Laura was earlier,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “Just... if it helps you sleep better, I don’t mind. Couch’s not exactly comfortable.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. Logan wasn’t the type to offer comfort lightly, and the idea of sharing a bed with him—platonically or not—made your pulse quicken.

“I—” You faltered, unsure how to respond. But something in the way he was looking at you made it clear this wasn’t just about the storm or being polite. This was about something more—something that had been quietly building between the two of you for a while now.

Before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay.”

Logan’s eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by your answer. He stepped aside as you stood, grabbing the blanket from the couch. Neither of you said anything as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom, the tension thick but not uncomfortable—more like an understanding had settled between you.

Once inside, Logan shifted awkwardly as you took your side of the bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, trying to act like this was normal, like your heart wasn’t racing in your chest. Logan laid down on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance, though the bed felt smaller with him in it.

The sound of the rain outside softened, though the occasional rumble of thunder still rolled in the distance. You stared at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Logan beside you, the space between you feeling charged.

“You good?” Logan asked after a minute, his voice low in the quiet.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Thanks,” you added, not just for offering the bed, but for being there, for not making this weird.

Logan turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. “Ain’t nothin’.”

But it was something. It was a lot, actually.

You both lay there in silence for a while, the sound of the rain becoming almost soothing. You could feel the warmth of him next to you, solid and reassuring, and slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, Logan’s voice broke the silence again, so quiet you almost missed it.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice gruff but sincere. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Not with us around.”

Your heart swelled, a mix of emotions you weren’t quite ready to confront just yet. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his in the small space between you.

Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled gently around yours, his grip warm and steady.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you fell asleep without flinching at the sound of thunder.

---

You woke up to the sound of soft rain pattering against the window, the storm from last night finally easing up. For a second, you forgot where you were, until you felt the weight of the blanket and the warmth of another presence next to you. Logan. His steady breathing filled the quiet space, and you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.

This was new.

You glanced over at him, his face relaxed in sleep, the tension he usually carried nowhere to be found. It was strange seeing him like this—calm, almost peaceful. You could feel the residual warmth from his hand where he’d held yours last night, and the memory made your chest tighten.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of quiet. You padded out into the hallway, stopping by Laura’s room to peek in. She was still asleep, wrapped up in blankets, her small body barely a lump under the covers.

You smiled to yourself, already suspecting that she had something to do with last night’s sleeping arrangements. Laura was too clever for her own good sometimes.

In the kitchen, you started brewing coffee, the scent filling the small space. As you waited for it to finish, you found yourself staring out the window, your mind still on Logan. Last night had been... unexpected. But not unwelcome. The way he’d stayed close, offering comfort without making a big deal out of it—it meant more than you wanted to admit.

The soft creak of footsteps behind you pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You’re up early,” Logan’s gravelly voice broke the quiet.

You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his hair still a little mussed from sleep, but otherwise looking much like his usual self.

“Couldn’t sleep much after the storm,” you shrugged, offering him a small smile. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, moving to sit at the kitchen table. “Thanks.”

You poured two mugs, setting one in front of him before taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sipping your coffee in the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Logan glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his eyes softer than usual. “You sleep alright?”

You hesitated, remembering how easily you’d fallen asleep next to him. “Better than I expected, honestly.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess the storm wasn’t as bad as you thought.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. “Or maybe it was the company.”

Logan’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on you again. “Thanks for lettin’ us stay. Laura didn’t give you much choice, huh?”

“She didn’t have to,” you replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t gonna let either of you stay in a freezing house with no power.”

Logan nodded, his eyes drifting to the window. “Power should be back on soon. I’ll head back once it’s up.”

You didn’t say anything, but part of you felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. You hadn’t had many moments like this—quiet, with just the two of you—and you found yourself wanting it to last a little longer.

Laura’s quiet footsteps broke the silence as she padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Mornin’, kid,” Logan greeted her.

“Mornin’,” Laura mumbled, glancing between the two of you with a knowing look before plopping down at the table. “Is the power back on yet?”

“Not yet,” you said, trying to ignore the way she was eyeing you and Logan.

Laura just shrugged, grabbing the cereal box from the counter and helping herself. “Guess we’re stuck here a little longer, huh?”

You shot her a look, but she didn’t seem fazed, her focus on her cereal. It was hard to tell if she was playing innocent or if she was just that good at pretending.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.

Laura perked up at that. “You said you’d help me with my English homework, remember?”

You blinked. “I—uh, right. Yeah, I did say that.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at Laura. “Since when do you need help with English?”

Laura shot him a quick look before turning back to you, all smiles. “I figured Ms. Aberra would be better at explaining it than you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, starting to catch on. “I’m sure you’re doing fine in English, Laura.”

She shrugged, playing with her spoon. “Yeah, but it’s better when someone explains it.”

Logan just shook his head, clearly not buying it either, but he didn’t say anything, letting Laura’s little game play out.

“Well,” you said, getting up from the table. “I guess we can take a look at it after breakfast.”

Laura grinned, clearly pleased with how things were going. “Thanks, Ms. Aberra.”

You smiled back, even though you knew something was up. Sure, you had been helping her with English homework for a while now, but she didn’t need the help. When she would show you her essays or answers to questions about a reading, they were always perfect. Still, you played along, grabbing your coffee and heading toward the living room.

“Alright,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at her. “Go grab your stuff, and we’ll take a look.”

Laura jumped up, cereal forgotten, and dashed off to retrieve her things. You settled onto the couch, sipping your coffee and trying to push aside the strange feeling that this was part of something bigger. But what?

Logan followed you into the living room, sitting down in the worn armchair opposite you. He gave you a look—one eyebrow slightly raised, lips set in that half-smirk he sometimes wore when he was figuring someone out.

“She really roped you into this, huh?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to kids asking for help with schoolwork.”

“Yeah, but Laura? She doesn’t ask for help unless she’s got some kind of angle.”

You laughed softly, but the truth of his words settled somewhere in the back of your mind. Laura wasn’t just a smart kid—she was calculating. You’d seen it in class and at home. The way she observed things, the way she always seemed to know what was going on, even when no one said a word.

“I guess I’ll find out,” you said, leaning back into the couch.

Before Logan could reply, Laura returned, a small notebook and a pencil in hand. She sat beside you, flipping it open to a random page. You glanced at the page, immediately noticing that it was filled with neat, almost perfect handwriting. The essay she’d written didn’t have a single correction or revision mark.

“Alright,” you began, pretending you didn’t see the perfection in front of you. “What do you need help with?”

Laura handed the notebook over, her face perfectly serious. “I just wanted to know if the introduction’s strong enough.”

You skimmed through the first paragraph, and honestly, it was better than anything you’d expect from a sixth grader. If anything, it felt more like she was testing you than asking for actual feedback.

“It’s good,” you said slowly. “Your thesis is clear, and you have a strong opening sentence. You might want to make the transition to your first point a little smoother, but overall, it’s solid.”

Laura nodded thoughtfully, pretending to make a note in her notebook. You watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what game she was playing. There was no way she needed your help, but for some reason, she wanted you here. And Logan, too.

Logan just sat quietly, watching the two of you like he wasn’t quite sure what was happening either. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, fingers tapping lightly. You could feel his presence, steady and grounding, even when he wasn’t saying anything.

Laura glanced at her dad. “Ms. Aberra’s a pretty good teacher, don’t you think?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk back in full force. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

You gave Laura a suspicious look. “You’re not just buttering me up for extra credit, are you?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “No. I just like the way you explain things.”

“Mhm.” You weren’t buying it, but it was hard not to laugh.

The quiet hung between you all for a moment, just the sound of the rain outside and the occasional scrape of Laura’s pencil against her notebook. It felt… peaceful, despite the nagging feeling that something was going on beneath the surface.

“Alright, well,” you finally said, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Looks like you’ve got this handled, Laura. I don’t think you need much help.”

Laura blinked up at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks anyway.”

You caught the look she sent Logan’s way, and suddenly, it clicked. She didn’t need your help with homework—she was just trying to get you to stick around a little longer. Maybe even trying to give you and Logan more time together.

Smart kid.

Logan, of course, said nothing, just watching you with that unreadable expression he wore so well. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, and it both frustrated and intrigued you.

"So," Laura said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What’s the plan today?"

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one with the notebook full of perfect essays. I thought you had plans."

Laura grinned at that, not even trying to hide it anymore. "I was thinking we could all go out for lunch. Since we’re stuck here."

Logan gave her a look, but didn’t say anything, clearly seeing through her. You stifled a laugh, playing along. "Lunch, huh? You paying?"

Laura shrugged, looking way too pleased with herself. "I’ll ask nicely. Maybe you’ll cover it."

You shook your head, pretending to think it over. "Might be able to swing it."

Logan snorted. "Real generous of you."

"Hey, I’m a teacher. Gotta budget wisely," you shot back, smirking at him.

Laura just smiled, clearly happy with how things were going, and it hit you again—she was definitely playing matchmaker. Subtle, but it was there. Not that you minded. Spending more time with Logan wasn’t exactly a hardship.

Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on you, though. "You’re sure you don’t mind us hanging around?"

You tilted your head, genuinely surprised. "Logan, if I minded, I wouldn’t have let you in. You’re both always welcome here."

For a second, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just gave a slow nod, like he was accepting it—maybe even appreciating it, though he’d never say that out loud. "Thanks."

You shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though you knew it kind of was. "Don’t mention it."

Laura got up, stretching her arms over her head before grabbing her empty bowl. "I’ll go get ready for lunch then," she said, already heading to the sink. "I’m starving."

You watched her go, then turned back to Logan, raising an eyebrow. "Think we’ve got time for that before the power comes back on?"

Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. "Could be out a while longer."

"Convenient," you muttered, though there was no real bite to it.

Logan chuckled, a low, rough sound that made something in your chest tighten. He set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood up, stretching slightly. "Guess we better make sure the kid doesn’t eat the place out of food while we wait."

You laughed, following him into the kitchen. The dynamic between the three of you felt easy now, comfortable in a way that surprised you. Even with Laura’s not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, there was something natural about how you and Logan were around each other. It wasn’t rushed or forced. Just... right.

Laura appeared from the hallway, already dressed and tugging on her jacket. "Ready when you are," she said, a little too cheerfully.

Logan gave her a look. "We haven’t even decided where we’re going."

"I’ll leave that up to the grown-ups," she said, grabbing her shoes.

You exchanged a glance with Logan, both of you clearly thinking the same thing: this kid was way too clever for her own good. But neither of you called her out on it.

"Alright," Logan finally said, grabbing his jacket. "Let’s get going before the power comes back and ruins her plan."

Laura grinned but didn’t say anything, grabbing your hand as you all headed out into the damp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped, but the sky was still overcast, a soft, gray light filtering through the clouds.

You walked beside Logan, Laura skipping a few steps ahead, her eyes darting around like she was taking everything in. She was always like that—watching, observing. And now you knew why. She was playing a long game, slowly pushing you and Logan closer together, little by little.

You couldn’t help but smile. She was good. Really good.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to appreciate her efforts.

---

The school did something special for parents on Valentine’s Day. Instead of just handing out donuts or cupcakes, they did a competition.

There was different challenges for each couple, or pairing, to finish, and to make it even better, their kids would have to guide them on certain challenges, like walking blindfolded to the finish line on the field.

Emma glanced over at you as you were going through the list of parent’s names, making sure everyone had a partner. There were a few single parents, so you had to figure out who they should be paired with. But there was an odd number, one parent would have to sit out.

“So… who’s sitting out?” Emma asked, leaning on the desk next to you. She had that casual curiosity in her tone, but you knew she was just as invested in making sure things ran smoothly as you were.

You chewed your lip, staring at the list. “Looks like we’ve got one extra parent. I’m not sure yet.”

Emma peeked over your shoulder, scanning the names. “What about Logan?”

You paused, looking at the list. Logan’s name was there, as was Laura’s, but you hesitated. He wasn’t exactly the type to jump into school events, especially one that involved blindfolds and teamwork. And while he’d been involved in Laura’s life, you weren’t sure he’d want to participate in something like this.

“Yeah, guess he can sit out. We have an odd number of parents anyways.” You put down the clipboard and looked at the empty donut box, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go to the other room and get another box.”

As you moved toward the door, you noticed Laura sitting quietly in the corner, fiddling with her notebook, watching everything with that usual sharpness in her eyes. She had been quiet all morning, almost too quiet. You gave her a smile before heading to the break room, still feeling a little awkward about pairing up the parents.

Emma stayed behind, her eyes flicking between you and Laura, a slight smirk tugging at her lips like she was onto something.

You weaved through the hallway, your mind still on the whole situation. These parent events were always a little tricky when it came to single parents. You knew Logan wasn’t exactly the type to jump into the school scene, especially for something like a Valentine’s Day competition, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he’d want to give it a shot for Laura.

Grabbing the donut box, you paused for a second. The idea of Logan being there today, paired up with someone else, didn’t sit right. Not that you had any reason to feel that way. It was just... Logan. You weren’t even sure if he’d show up.

When you returned to the room, Laura was still sitting there, now scribbling something in her notebook. She glanced up as you entered, her expression neutral but her eyes watching you closely.

“Everything okay?” you asked, setting the fresh box on the table and moving to grab the clipboard again.

Laura nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“Thinking about the competition?” You smiled, trying to make conversation, but she just gave you a vague shrug.

“Something like that.”

Emma glanced at you, her smirk still there as she made a little noise of amusement. “Logan didn’t strike me as the ‘competition’ type. But who knows?”

You shot her a look, but before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan walked in. Speak of the devil. He looked around, taking in the sight of parents getting ready, kids buzzing with excitement. His eyes landed on you, and he gave a short nod, his usual gruff greeting.

“You’re here,” you said, surprised, trying to keep your voice casual. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his hands in his pockets. “Laura signed us up. Thought I’d better show.”

Laura, sitting nearby, perked up but kept her face mostly neutral. She wasn’t about to blow her cover, not yet anyway.

“Right,” you said, glancing down at the clipboard. “Well, there’s an odd number of parents, so... I was thinking maybe you’d sit out.”

Laura, quick as ever, jumped in. “Or you could partner with someone else.”

You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess, but we don’t really have—”

“You could partner with Daddy.” Laura said it so simply, like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t been plotting this for weeks.

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between the two of you, clearly realizing what his daughter was doing, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

You stammered a bit, caught completely off guard. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”

Laura gave you a look, one that said she knew exactly what she was doing. “It’s just for the competition. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to you again, and this time, there was a slight smirk on his face. “It’s just a game, right? We’ll survive.”

Emma, watching the whole thing play out, was trying very hard not to laugh. “Looks like you’re stuck with Logan, Y/N.”

You felt a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. It was one thing to think about spending time with Logan, but being thrown into a school competition with him—especially with Laura being the mastermind behind it—was another.

“Okay, fine,” you muttered, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal at all. “I guess we’ll partner up.”

Logan just gave a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s get this over with.”

Laura’s eyes practically sparkled with victory as she hopped up from her seat, already heading toward the field where the first challenge would take place. You followed, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but it was impossible with Logan right next to you.

As you reached the field, the first task was announced: a three-legged race. Of course. Out of all the challenges, it had to be this one. You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ropes being handed out for the pairs to tie their legs together.

"This should be interesting," Logan muttered under his breath, taking one of the ropes and holding it out for you.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your nerves behind a smile. "I feel like this is a recipe for disaster."

Logan’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Only if you don’t keep up."

"Me?" You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to tie the rope around your ankle and his. "You’re the one with the bum leg."

Logan grunted, not arguing, though his usual swagger was still intact. "I’ll manage."

Laura stood off to the side, watching with a faint smile, clearly enjoying the show. You could tell she was pleased with herself, and part of you was too, even if you were trying to act like this was no big deal.

"Alright, ready?" Logan asked, standing up straighter after securing the rope.

"As I’ll ever be," you replied, trying to gauge the best way to navigate the race without falling flat on your face.

The whistle blew, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly hopping forward, one leg bound to Logan’s as you tried to find some sort of rhythm. The first few steps were disastrous—Logan’s longer strides making it nearly impossible for you to keep pace without stumbling.

"Slow down!" you laughed, grabbing his arm to steady yourself as you nearly tripped.

Logan smirked, his hand quickly coming to your waist to keep you from toppling over. "You gotta move faster than that, Y/N."

"Or maybe you need to move slower!" you shot back, trying to adjust your steps to match his. After a few shaky moments, you finally found a rhythm, the two of you moving in sync—well, mostly. Logan’s hand lingered at your waist, steadying you as you both half-hopped, half-laughed your way toward the finish line.

"Not bad," Logan grunted as you crossed the line, not quite first, but definitely not last either.

"Not bad?" You shot him a look, still a little breathless from laughing. "I’m pretty sure we almost face-planted three times."

"Could’ve been worse," he replied with a shrug, that smirk of his still in place.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart was still racing—though you weren’t sure if it was from the race or from the fact that Logan had kept his arm around your waist longer than necessary.

Laura, waiting at the sidelines, gave you both a knowing look as you untied the rope. "You guys were pretty good," she commented casually, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.

"Pretty good?" you echoed, shooting her a playful glare. "We almost ate dirt, Laura."

Logan grunted in agreement but didn’t say much, just shaking his head as he rubbed his leg a bit. You noticed the slight grimace that flashed across his face—something you hadn’t seen often, but it was there for just a moment before he covered it up.

"Next challenge is... egg balancing," Emma announced from the other end of the field, holding up a spoon and a carton of eggs.

You and Logan exchanged a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, this’ll be fun."

Logan just sighed, clearly less than thrilled about the prospect of trying to balance an egg on a spoon, but he didn’t protest. You handed him one of the spoons as you lined up for the next round.

"You got a steady hand?" you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Logan glanced at the spoon, then back at you. "Steadier than yours, probably."

"Let’s see about that," you shot back, placing the egg carefully on your spoon. The whistle blew, and you both started across the field, trying to keep the fragile eggs from toppling off. You had to admit, Logan had a surprising amount of focus for a guy who usually looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Not bad for an old man," you joked, glancing over at him as you both carefully moved toward the finish line.

"Careful, Y/N. That’s how you get egg on your face," Logan muttered, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.

Just as you were nearing the end, Laura darted over, watching closely. "Come on, you guys can do it!"

It was hard to ignore the pride in her voice—she was definitely enjoying watching you two work together. And maybe, despite the ridiculousness of it all, you were too.

By the time you finished, both of your eggs still intact, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. It was silly, sure, but being paired with Logan for these goofy challenges wasn’t as awkward as you thought it might be. In fact, it was... kind of nice.

"Two for two," Logan said with a smirk, handing his spoon back as the event wrapped up.

"Don’t get too cocky," you replied, bumping his arm lightly as you handed yours in too. "We’ll see how you do with the next one."

Laura appeared beside you again, her eyes bright. "You guys make a good team."

You gave her a sideways glance, trying not to read too much into her words. "Yeah, well, it’s all about teamwork, right?"

Logan didn’t say anything, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and there was something there—something unspoken that made your heart skip a beat.

The rest of the day went by in a blur of silly games and laughter, and by the time the event was over, you were exhausted, but in the best way possible. Logan had stayed the whole time, never complaining or trying to bow out early. Laura, of course, was thrilled with how things had turned out, and you couldn’t help but feel like she had succeeded in whatever plan she had been cooking up.

As the parents and kids started to trickle out of the school, you found yourself standing beside Logan near the door. Laura had already run ahead to grab her things, leaving the two of you alone for a moment.

"Thanks for sticking around," you said, glancing up at him. "I know this probably wasn’t your idea of a fun day."

Logan shrugged, his usual nonchalant expression in place. "Wasn’t so bad."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m glad you came. Laura seemed to really enjoy it."

"Yeah," Logan agreed, his gaze softening slightly as he looked in the direction where Laura had run off. "She’s a good kid."

"She is," you said, nodding. "And she’s lucky to have you."

Logan didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Thanks."

There was a brief silence between you, the air charged with something unspoken but palpable. Before you could say anything else, Laura came bounding back, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Ready to go?" she asked, looking between the two of you with that same knowing glint in her eyes.

"Yeah," Logan said, ruffling her hair lightly. "Let’s get outta here."

As they started to head for the door, Logan paused, glancing back at you. "See you around, Y/N."

"Yeah," you replied, feeling your heart skip again. "See you around, Logan."

---

It had been a few days since the Valentine’s Day event, and things had settled back into routine. You were sitting in your living room, halfway through grading papers, when there was a knock on your door.

Opening it, you found Logan standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," he greeted, voice low. "Laura wanted me to ask if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. Just... thought it’d be nice."

You blinked, surprised by the invitation. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to invite people over casually, but something about the way he stood there, slightly awkward, made your heart skip a beat.

"Sure," you said, smiling. "I’d like that."

Dinner at Logan’s place was unexpectedly warm. Laura set the table with care, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected as Logan recounted some old stories about his past. The tension that usually simmered between you felt different tonight—softer, like you were slowly crossing an invisible line you’d both been careful to avoid.

As you helped clear the dishes, your hand brushed against Logan’s, and the brief contact made you pause. He glanced at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a quiet acknowledgment of something building between you.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

“Anytime,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you as you turned to put the plates away. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was hard with Logan standing so close. It was like every time you were around him, you felt like something unspoken hovered between you—something that Laura, in her quiet, clever way, seemed determined to help along.

Laura wandered back into the room, a book in her hands. “Y/N, can you help me with my English homework?” she asked, holding it up and glancing between you and Logan like she hadn’t just interrupted a moment.

You blinked, turning to her with a small smile. “Of course, I can take a look.”

“Great!” Laura said, her voice a little too cheerful. She plopped down on the couch and spread her notebook and book out in front of her. “It’s this essay I’ve got to write.”

Logan lingered by the kitchen counter, his eyes flicking to Laura’s book with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he muttered, and before you could say anything, he was stepping outside, probably to get some fresh air or give you and Laura some space.

You turned your attention back to Laura, still smiling but a bit confused. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”

Laura launched into an explanation, talking about a character analysis she needed to do for class. As you glanced over her notes, though, it struck you that everything was pretty much perfect. Her sentences were clear, her argument made sense, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. Like always, it was perfect.

“Laura… this is really good,” you said slowly, giving her an impressed look. “I don’t think you need help with this.”

Laura’s face stayed impassive, but you caught a faint hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay,” she said casually, glancing in the direction Logan had gone.

Something clicked then, and you had to suppress a chuckle. So this was just another one of Laura’s little schemes to get you to stick around. You were starting to see the pattern—tiny excuses to keep you close, to get you and Logan in the same room more often. It was subtle, but now that you were catching on, it was impossible to miss.

“Well, your essay’s great,” you said, folding your arms as you gave her a knowing look. “But I think there’s more going on here than just English homework.”

Laura’s gaze stayed steady on yours, and for a moment, you could see a glimpse of something deeper in those eyes—something far beyond her years. “He’s lonely,” she said quietly, so softly that you almost missed it.

Your heart gave a small squeeze at that. It was true that Logan always seemed like a man on the outskirts of everything, never quite fitting in. And you knew he and Laura had been through a lot together, more than most people could imagine. But he wasn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings—or admit he might need someone else in his life.

“Maybe,” you replied gently, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “But that’s something he has to figure out on his own, okay?”

Laura nodded slowly, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “He likes you,” she said, blunt as ever. “And you like him.”

Your cheeks heated, and you glanced away, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t the first time Laura has said something like this. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”

“Why not?” she asked, her brow furrowing like she genuinely didn’t understand.

You struggled to find the right words. How could you explain that things with Logan were complicated—that you weren’t sure where you stood with him, or if there was even a place for you in his life beyond being Laura’s teacher? And yet, every time you were near him, there was this pull, this quiet magnetism that made you wonder.

“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” you admitted finally, feeling a little silly for having this conversation with an eleven-year-old.

Laura’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You won’t.”

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan stepped back inside, his gaze immediately going to the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone gruff but laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you said quickly, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions Laura’s words had stirred up. You stood up, smoothing down your shirt as you gave him a smile. “I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.”

Logan nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost looked like disappointment. “I’ll walk you out.”

He led you to the door, and you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laura. She gave you a small, encouraging smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks again for coming,” Logan said as he opened the door, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Anytime,” you replied, echoing your earlier words as you stepped outside. The cool night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of Logan’s gaze on you.

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like something should be said, but neither of you knew what. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you glanced up at him.

“Logan, I—”

“Y/N, I—”

You both spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a startled laugh.

“You first,” Logan muttered, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I wanted to say that I really enjoyed tonight. And I know Laura’s been… well, playing matchmaker or something,” you added with a chuckle, “but I just want you to know that I’m not—”

“Using her as an excuse to get close?” Logan finished for you, his voice dry but not unkind.

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah.”

Logan stood there, his eyes steady on yours, and for a moment, you both let the silence fill the space between you. He shifted his weight, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit, and for the first time, it felt like he was truly considering what to say next.

"Look, I know Laura's been trying to push things," he said, his voice low and gruff, but gentler than usual. "She's... smart, too smart sometimes. But this—tonight—it wasn’t just about her."

You blinked, surprised by his admission. You weren’t used to Logan being so open, especially about anything personal. He seemed to read the surprise in your face and let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like this was harder for him than any physical fight he’d been in.

"What I mean is," he continued, glancing at the ground before his eyes flicked back up to yours, "it’s not just her, Y/N. I didn’t mind tonight. And that’s not something I say often."

Your breath hitched a little at his words, heart beating a little faster. There was a vulnerability in Logan that you weren’t expecting—a side of him that he clearly didn’t let out much, if at all.

"I didn’t mind it either," you said softly, trying to match his tone, to let him know you weren’t taking this lightly. "And Laura... well, she’s got a way of seeing things."

Logan let out a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that caught you off guard. "Yeah, she does. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good." His eyes softened as he spoke about her, a fondness there that made you smile.

"She just wants you to be happy," you said gently. "And, I guess, maybe me too."

Logan looked at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more here than just a shared concern for Laura. You had always admired Logan’s strength, his quiet loyalty, the way he looked after Laura with such fierce protectiveness. But standing there now, with the night air cool against your skin and Logan’s presence so close, it felt different. More personal.

"You know," Logan said after a long pause, his voice low again, "I don’t exactly have a lot of people in my life. Never been good at that sort of thing. But... you’re good with Laura. And you’re—" He stopped, his jaw tightening for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should say the next part. "You’re good for us."

Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you could feel the weight of what he wasn’t saying—the layers beneath that simple statement. You’re good for us. It wasn’t just about being Laura’s teacher anymore. It was about something more.

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced a smile to keep things light. “Good for you?” you repeated with a slight chuckle. There was an ache there, something that hinted at how much more those words meant coming from Logan—someone who didn’t let people in easily. The way he looked at you, steady and deliberate, made it hard to brush aside. His eyes held yours a little longer than usual, almost daring you to look away.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble, and you couldn’t help but notice how the weight of the night seemed to gather between you, thick in the air. Logan’s usual guarded stance had softened, just enough for you to sense it. He stepped a bit closer, enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, the earthy scent of cigars and the wild outdoors clinging to his skin.

You shifted on your feet, trying to figure out where this was heading, but the flutter in your chest only grew stronger. Something unspoken seemed to pass between you two, like a current beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to reach down and touch it.

“I think Laura’s got something figured out,” you admitted, voice soft as you kept your eyes on him. “She’s smart enough to see what’s happening here.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile. “Yeah, too smart sometimes.” His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up at you, there was something different there—something raw. “But she’s right. You’re good for us. Hell, you’re good for me.” His words carried a weight, a kind of honesty that took you by surprise, even though deep down, you’d been hoping to hear them for a while.

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse quickened. “Logan, I…” You started to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that drew you in.

And then, as if some invisible line snapped, Logan took another step toward you, his rough hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, the touch light but electrifying. “I don’t say things like this often,” he muttered, his voice husky, the growl in it more pronounced now, “but I want you to stay close. For Laura, yeah, but... for me too.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, your body reacting to the closeness of him, the way his hand lingered on your cheek. It wasn’t just the softness in his eyes or the tenderness of his touch, but the way he was looking at you, like he was seeing more than just the surface.

“I’ve wanted to stay close,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, as your hand gently touched his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, like the pull between you was more than just chemistry.

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the cool night air, the sound of distant traffic, even the faint light from inside the house. All that mattered was the closeness, the way you could feel his breath mingling with yours.

Before you knew it, Logan was leaning in, and you closed the gap without thinking. His lips pressed against yours, rough and warm, and everything else just melted away. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but then it deepened, and the heat between you flared like wildfire.

His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you could feel the solid strength of his body as you pressed into him. The kiss was everything you hadn’t let yourself think about for so long—filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

Logan kissed like he lived—intensely, without holding back. His grip on your waist tightened as if he was afraid to let go, and you responded in kind, threading your fingers into the rough texture of his hair. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just the two of you, connected in this raw, unexpected moment.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still ragged.

“I—” you started to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and hoarse.

“Don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t ruin it with words, not yet.”

You nodded, biting back whatever thought was trying to escape. The night air felt cooler now, the warmth of Logan’s body contrasting sharply against it, grounding you in the moment. His hand lingered on your waist, thumb brushing your side, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, like even he was surprised by what just happened.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice quieter than before. “Didn’t think this’d happen,” he admitted, almost to himself.

You gave a soft laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Me either.”

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and he shifted slightly, his hand moving from your waist to gently brush your cheek. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender for him that it made your heart twist a little.

For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. Part of you wanted to step back, to put some distance between you and Logan, to give yourself a chance to think. But another part—the stronger part—wanted to stay right where you were, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the rough edge of his thumb grazing your cheek.

Meanwhile, Laura peeked through the blinds, a smile spreading across her face.

tags: @freythecrazyfae

[southstarlight]

〉bestfriend ellie headcannons

》 thinking ‘bout bestfriend!ellie (modern au) masterlist

pairing: ellie williams x f!reader word count: 348 summary: your best friend (maybe something more) is ellie williams warnings: little bit of nsfw and a dash of angst (maybe more than a dash.), friends with benefits

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

✮ who you forced to get good grades so you both can go to the same college.

✮ her favorite thing is eye contact. she’ll look right into you while she’s between your thighs, all slow and smug, saying, "you’re so loud for someone who swears this isn’t serious." ✮ keeps your hoodie "because it smells like you," but if you ask her about it, she says “shut up” and throws a pillow at your face. ✮ whenever you go on a date with someone else, she’s suddenly cold and weird and doesn’t answer your texts. and when you confront her? "It’s whatever. I don’t care." ✮ you crash at her place so often you have your own drawer. she’ll act annoyed, but she’s folded your shirts and put snacks in there. ✮ has a sketchbook filled with half-finished doodles of you doing random stuff: eating chips, yelling at her, sleeping on her couch. ✮ she calls you :pretty girl" when she’s high or sleepy and immediately acts like it didn’t happen. ✮ will casually rest her hand on your thigh when you’re sitting next to her, like it’s nothing. Like you haven’t been overthinking it for weeks.

✮ she lives to tease. will make you beg for it just to smirk and say, “since when do best friends beg like that?” ✮ will 100% fight someone who makes you cry. doesn’t matter if it was your ex, your mom, or your barista — she's already halfway across the street with her fists up. ✮ you once called her your best friend in front of someone, and she corrected you with "i’m hers, actually." (you never bring it up. you still think about it.) ✮ ellie’s the kind of lover who pretends she’s chill, but gets insanely possessive in bed. whispers "mine" into your skin like a prayer she’ll never say out loud. ✮ afterwards, you lay next to her in silence, the air thick with unsaid things. you brush your fingers against hers. she pulls away — softly, apologetically. "don’t make this harder than it already is."

notes: sorry for the year long disappearance and how short this is. i'll try to write more now, a lot of thoughts are piling through my mind for so many fandoms. i hope you enjoy this small thing while i work on bigger things! i'm doing some summer college courses and it's really taking up my time, but i will try my best!! - cj

[dollyswishingwell]

💍anon - I just finished re-reading my favourite book, and now I'm just wondering what you think the lads guys would be like for a reader who is also a massive bookworm?

(also, I love love love your darker stuff so please don't be worried about posting it!❤️)

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Bookworm

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ just pure fluff

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ The boys with a bookworm reader

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

- He adores the fact that you’re a bookworm. His dreamy, delicate little wife with her legs kicked up on a satin chaise, flipping pages with starry eyes? He wants to paint you like that. Then lock you in a room filled with nothing but books, silk, and him.

- Jealous of fictional men. Absolutely. If you get too into a spicy romance book and start giggling or sighing dreamily, he’ll crawl into your lap like a cat and whimper, “You like him more than me, huh? What’s he got? Wings? Horns? A dark curse?”

- Mimics the book characters to make you laugh. You mention you’re reading about a cursed warlock? Next thing you know, he’s walking around the house in a black velvet cloak, holding a wine glass like it’s blood. “My dearest wife… have you brought me the final moonstone?”

- Doodles hearts and notes in your Kindle case. “DON’T FORGET YOUR REAL HUSBAND.” Or draws himself in your favorite book scenes, replacing the male lead. (He prints out fanart of himself as Lucien Raventhorn, don’t lie.)

- Collects books with pretty covers and doesn’t care what’s inside. “It’s pink and shiny, obviously you’ll love it, cutie.” You have 12 unread books that he bought just because the spines look cute on the shelf.

- Gets very clingy if you’re reading for hours and “forget” to give him attention. Will lay his head in your lap and mumble while you try to focus: “Pearlieee… this guy sounds so mean. You like mean boys now? You want me to start being cruel to you? Maybe I’ll go feral. Start a war. Burn a city.”

- But if you ever cry during a tragic scene, he’s instantly serious. Pulls the Kindle from your hand and cups your face. “You okay, pearl? Want me to make it better?” Then gets unreasonably pissed at the book. “What do you mean they died?! Who do I have to kill!?”

- Also: He writes you fanfic. Secretly. You’ll find a file named “SunflowerQueen_Vol1” on your tablet and it’s Rafayel’s self-insert fantasy romance where you’re the ethereal empress and he’s your cursed knight who’s obsessed with you and dies dramatically (but hotly) in your arms.

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

- Thinks it’s adorable. He finds you nestled in his massive custom reading nook with your knees up and your little Kindle glowing? Instant serotonin. He strokes your hair while reading patient reports beside you, secretly syncing his breathing to yours.

- Buys you medical romance and sultry surgeon smut books to tease you. “This one apparently features a brooding, emotionally unavailable doctor… sounds familiar?”

- When you’re deep into a spicy book, he’ll glance over and mutter with a smirk, “That book must be better than the real thing, huh?” But you always find him right behind you ten minutes later, kissing down your neck, whispering, “Let’s see if fiction can compete with fact.”

- Customises your collection like he’s managing your meds. Categorized. Synced. Updated. One time you couldn’t find your favorite sci-fi trilogy and Zayne just calmly pulled a physical leatherbound version off the shelf, of course he sourced it first edition.

- Keeps an eye on your posture while you read for hours and gently adjusts your legs or massages your back. “You’ll get stiff sitting like that, sweetheart.”

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

- Thinks you’re the cutest thing in the universe when you’re reading. He loves your dreamy sighs, your little gasp when you hit a plot twist, your eyes shining when you talk about a book.

- Falls asleep in your lap while you’re reading, or tugs you under the covers. “Let me dream to the sound of your voice, starlight…”

- You’re like his personal storyteller. He’ll ask, “What’s that one about?” and you excitedly explain the plot of a spicy mafia romance and he’ll just blink and go, “…Interesting. Continue.”

- Memorizes your favorite narrators. Xavier loads up your audiobooks on your devices with enhanced audio filters so it sounds like you’re in another world. Sometimes he even records himself reading your favorite passages in that soft, sleepy tone of his.

- Thinks it’s funny how you’re immune to most dangers but will cry over a fictional death or spiral after finishing a trilogy. Cuddles you silently, brushing your hair while you wail, “I MISS THEM.”

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

- Laughs at your dramatic reactions like, “You’re literally crying over a paper man named Aaron?” but he still hunts down rare collector’s editions of all your favorite fantasy series and has an entire wing of the estate turned into your personal library.

- Absolutely reads over your shoulder, then scoffs like it’s dumb… but then you catch him pacing later like he’s lowkey invested in the plot.

- If you ever get too into a spicy book, he’ll yank the Kindle out of your hands with a smug smirk and go, “Is this what you’re into now, kitty? You know I can do better than a cursed prince.”

- Buys you risqué titles on purpose just to see your face when you open them. “This one has a warning label. Let me know if it’s too much for you.”

- But when you talk excitedly about a story’s politics, worldbuilding, or magic system, he actually engages seriously. “You liked how the council was overthrown? Hm. Remind me to show you how a real power grab works.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

- You’ve been a bookworm since childhood and he’s always been the one carrying your backpack of novels when it got too heavy. He still teases you like, “How many books do you need for a single trip to the garden?”

- Keeps a blanket in every room because he knows you’ll curl up somewhere random and read for hours. If he finds you passed out on the floor with your Kindle face down, he’ll tuck you in and carry you to bed.

- Tries to get into your favorite books just to impress you. Reads them in secret so he can say, “Yeah, I like when that guy—Lucien?—saves her from the wyverns. Not bad.”

- Feels a little jealous when you get too emotionally attached to fictional men, especially when you sigh and murmur, “I wish someone would talk to me like that.” He just throws an arm around your waist like, “You want poetic? I’ll give you poetic, pipsqueak.”

- He reads aloud to you when you’re tired, in that low, gravelly voice. Sometimes spicy scenes, sometimes tragic ones. He watches your face more than the book. “You like when he calls her that? I bet I could do it better.”

@gideonsbestiefrfr for u pookie :D

[bytemee]

toxic till the end — yu jimin.

synopsis. karina is the kind of girl everyone knows—confident, popular, and always the best-dressed. when you get paired with her for a school project, you're shocked, but things only get worse when she starts showing her toxic side.

pairing. toxic & rich!meangirl!jimin x loser(?)! skater!reader

warnings. toxic relationship (manipulation, physical violence, aggressive language, jealousy) sexual content, and let me know if there’s more. time skips/rushed so i didn’t turn this into a full fic

words. 5.8k

authors note. i’m always making reader a loser because im projecting sorry. this is also HEAVILY based on the music video

navigation. main masterlist.

you know karina. everyone does. she's the kind of girl who owns every room she walks into. her flawless skin, the designer clothes, and the air of absolute certainty that follows her everywhere—she's untouchable. it doesn't matter whether it's school, the mall, or some exclusive party in the city. karina is always the best-dressed, the most confident, the one everyone wants to be around. she has everything—the best grades, the richest friends, and a mansion that could probably fit your entire apartment.

but you've never been part of her world. not by a long shot.

so when the teacher announces the project pairings, you half-expect to be stuck with someone you barely know. but the name you hear makes your stomach twist for a second—karina. you blink and glance around the room, but sure enough, she's looking at her phone like it's the only thing that matters. her eyes don't even leave the screen as the teacher explains the assignment, and when she does glance up, it's just long enough to give a faint nod.

yunjin, your best friend, glances at you with a sympathetic look, but all you can do is shrug in response.

the first time you try talking to her about the project, she's half-listening. you're sitting at the library table, and karina's doodling on the edge of her notebook, looking at her phone again. you make a suggestion about the research, but she just shrugs.

"sure, whatever. i'm good with whatever you want to do." she mutters, glancing back down at her phone. you bite your lip, trying to think of another way to get her attention. you push a little harder, trying to make this work, "you sure? it's a group project, we both have to decide."

karina just gives you that look—one that says, i don't care what you say, because the outcome is the same.

you pause, trying to gauge her reaction, but karina's already back to scrolling through her feed, the sound of her phone clicking lightly in the background. you're not sure if you should push any further. it's clear she's not invested in this—in you—and that stings more than you want to admit.

"okay, then..." you say, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "we'll just go with whatever you think is best."

karina doesn't even look up when she replies. "yeah, exactly."

the rain catches you off guard the next day. you didn't bring an umbrella, and now you're standing near the campus entrance, your skateboard tucked under your arm, waiting for the rain to let up. you're not in a rush to get home—mostly because you know it'll be a long, dull evening. your roommates will probably be out partying or something. and without yunjin, you feel like the odd one out.

so you stand there, letting the rain soak through your jacket as you watch everyone else scramble for shelter.

then, out of nowhere, you hear the hum of an engine. karina's sleek car pulls up, its tinted windows glinting in the rain. for a moment, you think she's going to ignore you, like she does every other time. but instead, she rolls down the window, her face leaning out slightly.

"get in," karina commands, her voice cool and smooth, like she doesn't really care one way or another.

you blink, a little thrown off by the offer. "what?"

it takes you a moment to process her words, and she looks a little impatient when she repeats herself. "get in the car. it's raining."

"um, thanks. but i'm fine, really," you stammer, trying to smile and hoping she doesn't notice the nervousness in your voice.

but karina just raises an eyebrow, like you've said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"don't be stupid," she says, a little too loudly, her tone a little too harsh. you glance down, and your cheeks burn in embarrassment. karina doesn't strike you as the type to offer rides to just anyone. but then again, you're not anyone, are you? you're her partner for the project. you're technically part of her world for the moment, no matter how temporary that might be.

with a reluctant sigh, you climb into the car. the door shuts with a soft thud, and you find yourself in the passenger seat, a little too close to her than you expected.

the inside of her car smells faintly of vanilla. she's wearing a floral perfume that reminds you of the spring, the kind of scent that leaves you a little breathless, a little giddy, and a little too happy.

she's not even looking at you, and that's probably a good thing.

you clear your throat, trying to ignore the heat in your face.

"uh...where are we going?" you ask, not sure if you should say something else. the air feels awkward between you two, still heavy from the silence of your earlier encounters.

karina glances at you for a moment before turning back to the road, her eyes fixed on the street ahead. "to my place. we still need to finish the project, right?"

karina's house is nothing short of a mansion. it stands in the middle of a large estate, with a pristine garden and a driveway that looks longer than your entire block. you can't help but feel small as you step out of the car, your skateboard tucked under your arm like a prop rather than something you actually use.

"you can leave your skateboard in the garage," karina says as she leads you into her house. "we'll be in my office."

the room is much like the rest of her house—everything pristine, clean, and far more impressive than anything you've ever had. she's already seated at a desk, pulling up the files for your project, while you stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of where to sit.

"you're... sure this is fine?" you ask, glancing at the luxurious surroundings. "i don't want to get in the way."

karina barely looks up from her computer. "you're not in the way," she says dismissively, clicking through some documents. "just sit down."

you do as she says, taking a seat next to her. as she leans forward, you catch a glimpse of her profile, the line of her neck and jaw, the way her lips curve into a frown when she's deep in thought. she's beautiful, you realize. she's more than beautiful. she's almost...

...perfect.

"you're staring," karina says, looking up at you, her dark eyes fixed on yours. you feel a flicker of panic, not sure what to say. "i...sorry," you stammer, not sure why the word comes out like that. you didn't mean to stare. but karina doesn't look bothered, her face expressionless.

the project progresses in silence for a while. karina occasionally makes a comment or offers a suggestion, but it's clear she's not too invested. you do most of the work, but there's a strange satisfaction in seeing her just there, even if she's not really participating. it's enough to be with her, you think. to spend a few hours in her company, even if she's not paying attention.

by the time the sun begins to set, you're both sprawled out on the floor with the project almost done, the laptop and a few papers strewn around you. you didn't expect to get this much done, and you didn't expect karina to actually stay with you the entire time, even if she was working on her own stuff.

but it's karina who breaks the silence, "do you want to take a break?"

you blink, a little surprised. you've been so focused on the project that you hadn't even thought about taking a break. but now that karina's mentioned it, you realize how much your shoulders ache and how stiff your back is from sitting on the floor for hours.

"uh, sure," you say, trying to sound casual. you sit up, stretching your arms above your head, wincing a little as your muscles protest.

suddenly, you're outside laughing as you both run around karina's expansive yard. you don't even know what it was that started the game of running around her massive yard, laughing as you dodged between trees and jumped over flower beds. the estate was almost overwhelming, the grass so perfectly green and the gardens so lush and well-maintained, but somehow, it was comforting, too.

you're not sure how long you play for, but it feels like a lifetime. karina is faster than you, and her legs carry her across the yard effortlessly. she's light on her feet, almost catlike in the way she moves, and the sunlight catches her dark hair and turns it golden.

when you finally stop, both of you panting and laughing, she sits on the edge of a large ornamental fountain, and you follow, dropping down next to her. it's quiet for a moment—only the sound of your laughter dying down and the trickle of the fountain.

karina looks at you, her eyes meeting yours. there's something about the way she's looking at you, something that makes your heart race and your stomach do flip-flops.

"you're pretty when you smile," she says.

then, in a blink, before you can react, she shoves you into the fountain. cold water splashes up in all directions, drenching you from head to toe. you let out an indignant gasp, but it quickly dissolves into uncontrollable laughter as you sputter, trying to catch your breath between fits of giggles.

"oops," karina says, looking far too pleased with herself, her hand covering her mouth. "my bad."

you wipe water from your eyes, trying to make it look like you're annoyed, but your smile betrays you. "yeah, sure. 'oops.'"

karina bursts into more laughter, the sound high and sweet. it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard, and for a moment, you forget that you're soaked. you forget about the project and the fact that you'll have to go home later. all you can focus on is the way karina's blonde hair falls over her shoulders, and the way her smile reaches her eyes, making them shine like stars.

you can't help but stare, transfixed.

she's perfect, you think. perfect and untouchable.

karina stands up, "come on, before you freeze to death." she holds out her hand. you hesitate for a moment, but eventually, your fingers close around hers, and you pull yourself up. she doesn't let go. not even when the two of you are standing side by side, her hand still in yours.

you're not really sure what room you're in now, only that it's not the office anymore. you don't care enough to figure it out, either. the lights are dim, the fireplace crackles softly in the corner, and karina is sitting in your lap. she's holding a towel, gently brushing it over your damp hair to help dry it. her hands move slowly, the motion almost hypnotic. you don't even bother resisting the urge to lean into her touch, her body pressed against yours.

"you should come here more often," she says, her voice low. "it's fun."

she's so close, you can smell her vanilla perfume again. it's intoxicating.

"it is," you murmur, and her eyes flicker up to yours, a smirk on her face.

"i'm glad you agree."

"we should probably finish the project," you say, though it sounds half-hearted even to you.

"maybe later," she says softly, leaning closer. her face is so close to yours now that you can feel the warmth of her breath. she hesitates for just a moment before her lips brush lightly against yours.

your breath catches, and for a second, you're frozen.

you weren't sure what to expect, but the simple touch of her lips leaves you wanting more. her eyes flicker up to yours briefly, searching your face, almost like she's asking if it's okay to keep going. without thinking, you lean forward just enough to close the gap again.

she sighs into your mouth, her hands coming up to cup your face, her fingertips brushing along your jaw. the towel falls away, forgotten, and her arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer. your hands find her waist, tracing up the curve of her spine and the back of her neck.

you're not sure how long the kiss lasts, only that by the time you pull away, your lungs are burning and your head is spinning.

she's smiling, a real smile this time, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed.

"you're blushing," she whispers, tracing her thumb along the line of your jaw.

"i am not," you protest weakly.

"mhm." karina leans in again, her nose brushing against yours.

"are you going to eat that?"

yunjin's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. you blink and realize you're sitting at the table now, a cookie sitting on the plate in front of you.

"hm?"

she points at the cookie. "that. are you gonna eat it?"

"oh," you mutter, realizing you must've been staring at it while lost in thought. "oh, no you can have it jen."

she grabs it, takes a bite, and gives you a weird look. "hey, are you okay? you're kinda spacing out."

"i'm fine, really," you say, taking a sip of tea, though your thoughts are miles away. karina lingers in your mind, no matter how hard you try to shake her. it's been days since your first kiss—though there have been others since. it felt like you were finally starting to get somewhere with karina. and maybe, just maybe, you were actually a little important to her, too.

yunjin eyes you suspiciously, clearly unconvinced, but she lets it slide. she takes another bite of the cookie and changes the subject, just as chaewon slides into the seat next to you.

"ugh, what are you doing with these?" chaewon huffs, leaning in and inspecting your eyebrows like she's some kind of aesthetician. she licks her finger then starts brushing them with her thumb.

"chaewon," you groan, swatting her away. "stop. you're embarrassing me."

"embarrassing you?" she scoffs, rubbing at some invisible flaw on your face. "i'm fixing you, trust me. if anyone's embarrassing you, it's yourself."

yunjin snickers as chaewon wipes a crumb off the corner of your mouth, ignoring your exaggerated protests. "see? better already," chaewon says, looking pleased with herself.

you roll your eyes dramatically but can't help the tiny grin tugging at your lips. she's annoying, sure, but she's like the older sister you never had. it's hard to stay mad when she means well.

before you can shoot back a sarcastic comment, movement across the room catches your eye. karina walks by with her group of friends, laughing about something you can't hear. you straighten in your seat, your heart racing without permission.

"karina!" you call out, raising a hand to get her attention. "hey! come meet my friends!"

your voice echoes just enough to make a few people glance your way, but karina doesn't even spare you a look. she keeps walking, her laughter ringing out as if she didn't hear you—or worse, as if she didn't care.

the table goes quiet. you can feel yunjin and chaewon watching you, but you refuse to meet their eyes, staring instead at the empty space where karina just was. you feel your face heat up, and suddenly, you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"ouch," yunjin mutters under her breath, giving a low whistle. "harsh."

you swallow thickly, the sinking feeling in your stomach growing stronger by the second.

"it's fine," you say, forcing a smile.

"uh, i still wanted to show you that trick i was talking about earlier." you try to shift the focus away from the embarrassment still burning in your chest, but your voice wavers slightly. yunjin and chaewon exchange a quick glance, their concern evident despite their best attempts to hide it.

"trick?" chaewon perks up, "what trick?"

you hesitate, glancing at her and then down at your lap. "just something i've been practicing on my board."

"why didn't you mention this sooner?" chaewon leans forward, resting her elbows on the table, "c'mon, show us! i've been dying to see you pull off something cool."

"but uh, yeah, about that..." you scratch the back of your neck. "i don't have my board with me. so, i can't."

yunjin, who had been quietly finishing her cookie, perks up. "you can use mine!" she says brightly, already digging into her bag. "i brought it with me."

"are you sure?" you ask, a little surprised by the offer. you know she doesn't like anyone touching her skateboard. "i don't want to—"

"it's fine," she assures, waving a hand dismissively. "just show us."

the three of you head outside, and yunjin pulls out her skateboard, handing it to you. it's a little smaller than yours, but it feels sturdy enough. after testing the balance and grip, you roll it forward, nodding with approval. a few minutes later, you nail the trick with ease, a grin spreading across your face as you hold out the board.

"that was awesome!" chaewon squeals, practically bouncing with excitement.

"told you it was cool," yunjin says with a satisfied grin.

"yeah, it was," you reply, grinning wider. "thanks, guys."

you spend the next hour hanging out with them, laughing and joking about nothing in particular. by the time the bell rings, you feel lighter, ready to head home and unwind for the day. as you're saying your goodbyes, a familiar luxury car pulls into the schools parking lot.

the window rolls down, and karina peers out, her gaze locking onto you. "get in," she calls, and it doesn't sound like a question.

"i'm good," you say, shifting your bag onto your shoulder. "i'll walk."

"get in the fucking car," she repeats, louder this time, and there's something in her tone that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. she glances at your friends before turning back to you, her eyes dark and intense. "or are you too cool to hang out with me now?"

you freeze. yunjin and chaewon exchange a quick look, and suddenly, you're painfully aware that they're witnessing this. karina's gaze never wavers, her lips pressed into a thin line and her brow furrowed. for a moment, you think she might just drive off and leave you standing there.

"okay, fine," you relent, opening the door and climbing into the car. as soon as you're inside, karina speeds off, the tires screeching slightly as she takes a sharp turn. the ride is silent. neither of you speaks. then you notice the car heading in the opposite direction of your house.

"where are we going?" you ask, breaking the silence.

karina doesn't answer, her knuckles white as she grips the steering wheel. her jaw is set, and you can feel the tension radiating from her. you try again, "seriously, where are we—"

"just shut up," she snaps, "please."

"karina—"

"god," she mutters, running a hand through her hair. "you're so annoying."

the words hit you harder than expected, and you flinch, your eyes widening. she's never spoken to you like this before. not ever. "i'm annoying?"

she glances over at you briefly, her eyes narrowed. "yes. you are."

"why?" you ask, genuinely confused. "because i didn't get in your car right away?"

"yes!" karina exclaims, her voice rising in frustration. "exactly!"

you stare at her, taken aback by her reaction along with her response. a million questions race through your head, and you're not sure which one to ask first. karina turns back to the road, and you can tell she's holding back, biting her lip to stop herself from saying something she might regret.

"why do you even care? i was having fun with my friends. why can't you just leave me alone?"

"i don't care," karina spits out, her words sharp and venomous.

"bullshit," you scoff.

"oh, really?" karina raises an eyebrow. the car suddenly stopping in the middle of the road. "fine, then. go be with your friends. see if i care."

your body jerks at the sudden stop, and you grip the seatbelt tightly, your heart hammering in your chest. there's no way she can be serious.

"you're not serious," you mutter, "you're the one who ignored me in the middle of the dining hall. in front of everyone."

karina remains silent, her gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. the car moves forward again, a little slower this time, and the silence hangs heavily between you. you can't believe she's acting like this.

"just turn around and take me home," you demand.

"no."

"why not?"

"your board's at my place," she says, cutting you off before you can protest. "don't you want it back?"

"i don't need it."

"yeah, you do," she responds, her tone matter-of-fact. "you can't do your stupid little tricks without it."

the word stings. "it's not stupid."

"sure," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "it's not stupid. but it is pointless. and a waste of time."

you swallow hard, your throat dry. you don't know what to say, so you just stare out the window, trying to blink back the tears forming in your eyes. this is a new low, even for karina.

when she parks in front of her house, you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out, waiting by the door while she heads inside. a few moments later, she returns, handing you your board. you take it, inspecting it absentmindedly as karina leans against the doorframe, watching you.

"you never showed me that trick," she says suddenly, her voice softer now.

"yeah, well," you mutter, turning away. "there's a reason for that."

"show me now," she insists, nodding toward the driveway.

you sigh, glancing down at the skateboard. "karina—"

"c'mon, please."

you shake your head, still not meeting her gaze. "forget it."

"it won't take long," she presses, her eyes pleading. "i just wanna see it once."

"why? so you can make fun of me?"

"no," she insists, stepping closer. "i won't. i promise."

without really knowing why, you give in. you roll the board forward and step onto it carefully. as soon as you shift your weight, the board wobbles unnaturally, and before you can react, the screws give way, sending you sprawling onto the ground. pain shoots through your palms and knees as you catch yourself, the board clattering a few feet away.

karina is by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching for you. "are you okay?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

you sit up slowly, grimacing as pain radiates from your arm. your other hand instinctively cradles it, and you notice the sharp throb in your wrist, which is already starting to swell.

"shit," you hiss through clenched teeth, trying to move your fingers but finding it difficult.

"let me see," karina says, her voice soft yet urgent. she reaches for your arm, but you flinch, pulling it back.

"i'm fine," you snap, more out of frustration than anger. the pain and embarrassment are making it hard to think clearly.

"you're not fine," karina counters, her eyes darting between your face and your arm. "we need to get you to a hospital."

"i said i'm fine," you repeat stubbornly, though you know she's right. the pain is getting worse by the second, and you're starting to feel a little lightheaded.

karina sighs, standing up and brushing off her hands. "get in the car," she says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

you don't have the energy to fight her this time. carefully, you push yourself to your feet, wincing as the movement jostles your injured arm. karina is at your side instantly, steadying you with a hand on your back. you want to tell her you don't need her help, but the words die on your tongue.

the ride to the hospital is silent, the tension between you thick and suffocating. karina's grip on the steering wheel is tight, her knuckles white again, but this time her jaw isn't set in anger. instead, she looks... worried. the sight of her like this makes your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with your arm.

when you arrive at the emergency room, karina parks hastily and helps you inside. the next hour passes in a blur of x-rays, ice packs, and medical jargon. the doctor confirms it's a bad sprain, not a break, and your arm is wrapped in a snug bandage to immobilize it. you're given a sling to wear for the next few weeks and a prescription for pain medication.

it's not until the two of you are cuddled up in bed, her body pressed against yours, her head resting on your shoulder, that she finally breaks the silence. "i'm sorry," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "i didn't mean to hurt you."

"i know," you murmur, reaching up with your good hand to stroke her hair gently. it's the first time she's apologized for anything.

"you're really good," she says softly, "on your board, i mean."

"oh."

"and the tricks you were talking about are cool," she adds, her eyes searching yours.

"thanks."

"i shouldn't have called them stupid."

"no," you agree, your heart aching again, but not as badly this time. "you shouldn't have."

karina nods, her gaze dropping to the sling holding your arm in place. she reaches out, running her fingers over the fabric. "does it hurt?"

"not right now," you reassure her, the painkillers kicking in.

"that's good," she sighs, her head drooping slightly.

you smile faintly, feeling exhaustion wash over you. "you should get some sleep," you suggest, knowing how little sleep she normally gets.

"you first," she mumbles, her eyes closing.

with a soft chuckle, you pull her closer and let yourself drift off.

karina has been acting strange since the accident—but not in a bad way. there's a new quietness to her, a thoughtful edge that wasn't there before. sometimes, you catch her staring at you with an unreadable expression, her lips pressed together like she wants to say something but can't. every time you ask, though, she just shrugs and says, "nothing."

the two of you are back in her office, putting the finishing touches on your project. the hours stretch on, and the golden hues of the setting sun spill through the window, painting the room in soft orange and pink. the light catches on her face, highlighting her features in a way that almost makes her look angelic.

"are you sure?" you ask, tilting your head to study her.

"mhm," karina hums distractedly, turning back to her computer as though the question didn't faze her.

your phone buzzes on the table, drawing both your attention. glancing down, you see a message from yunjin:

"are you busy tonight? we're going to the skate park."

as you start to type out a reply, you notice karina's gaze flick toward your phone. this time, she doesn't bother hiding it, her eyes lingering for a moment too long. you shift uncomfortably, moving your arm in its sling to shield your screen. her eyes narrow slightly, and you see her jaw tighten.

karina studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. then, out of nowhere, she jumps up from her seat, snatching your phone from the table.

"hey! what the hell?" you shoot up from your seat, scrambling to follow her as she storms out of the room.

"what's so important on your phone?" she snaps, holding it just out of your reach.

you frown, struggling to keep up with her as she strides down the hallway. you reach out, grasping for the device, but she dodges your attempts, easily keeping it out of your grasp. "give it back, karina," you say, exasperated.

"why? so you can text yunjin and ditch me?" she retorts, spinning on her heel to face you. "are you really that desperate to hang out with her?"

"what are you even talking about?"

karina ignores your question, turning on her heel and continuing down the hallway. she doesn't look back, and you can feel the frustration bubbling up inside you, mixing with confusion. karina's eyes flash. "don't play dumb. i see the way she looks at you."

"oh, come on. yunjin is just a friend."

"sure she is," karina scoffs, her grip on your phone tightening.

"and what about you lee jae wook? should i pretend i haven't noticed how close you two have gotten?" you suddenly mention. karina freezes, her face going pale. for a moment, she looks almost scared, but it's quickly replaced by anger, her brows knitting together.

her eyes narrow, and she takes a step closer, her voice low and dangerous. "what's that supposed to mean?"

you hold your ground, your own anger rising to meet hers. "it means i see how he looks at you, and how you look at him."

"we're just friends."

"yeah? just like you and i are friends?"

karina opens her mouth to respond, but the words die on her tongue. she hesitates, her eyes flicking away. karina looks away, her knuckles white as she grips your phone. then, as if the tension becomes too much, she turns and heads for the front door.

"where are you going?" you call after her, following her down the hallway.

"out," she says curtly, throwing open the door.

"karina, wait!" you step outside just as she rushes to her car. she fumbles with her keys, but when she tries to start the engine, the car sputters and lets out a puff of smoke.

you cross your arms, standing in the doorway. "looks like your car has other plans. just come back inside before you make things worse."

karina slams her hand against the steering wheel in frustration, her head dropping for a moment as she lets out an audible sigh. she stays there for a few seconds before grabbing your phone and storming back toward the house, her heels clicking sharply against the driveway.

"you're impossible," she mutters under her breath as she brushes past you, her shoulder lightly bumping yours.

"what is your problem, huh? you're the one who started this, stealing my phone like some kid."

she whirls around at that, her eyes blazing. "maybe if you weren't so secretive, i wouldn't have to!"

"secretive?" you laugh bitterly, stepping closer. "says the girl who's been cozying up to lee jae wook every chance she gets!"

karina's jaw clenches, her expression darkening. "i told you, there's nothing between us. why won't you believe me?"

"because," you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "it's clear there's something between you two. and it's not just friendship."

that's the final straw. before you can react, karina shoves you back, her hands pushing against your shoulders. you stumble, colliding with the edge of a decorative marble statue near the staircase. the wind is knocked out of you as your back hits the solid stone, the force sending a jolt of pain through your injured arm. you grit your teeth, trying not to wince, but the action is futile.

karina freezes as you collide with the marble statue, her eyes widening in shock. but the guilt that flickers across her face is gone in an instant, replaced by frustration.

"what is wrong with you?" she snaps, throwing her hands up. "why do you have to be such a bitch all the time? can't you just admit when you're wrong for once?"

your chest tightens, your heart hammering against your ribcage. the anger in her words stings, and the pain from your fall only adds fuel to the fire. you grit your teeth, pushing yourself off the statue despite the sharp ache radiating from your back. "me? you're the one pushing me into shit because your car won't start."

"because you did something to it!" she yells, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips. "can you prove that?"

karina lets out a bitter laugh, pacing a few steps before spinning to face you again. "of course it was you. i saw you on the security camera you fucking idiot, don't try and deny it. why would i hurt you when i've never done anything but take care of you?"

"take care of me?" you echo incredulously, "you think i owe you something because you let me crash at your place? is that what this is about?"

karina's eyes flash, her frustration boiling over as she throws her hands up in disbelief. "owe me something? you've got to be kidding me. this isn't about owing me—it's about the fact that i've bent over backwards for you, and this is how you repay me? by sabotaging my car and lying to my face?"

"yeah?" you fire back, stepping closer as your voice rises. "you bend over backwards? don't make me laugh, karina. i know you messed with my board. you think i wouldn't notice? the loosened trucks, the scratches that weren't there before? what, was that your idea of 'taking care of me' too?"

karina blinks repeatedly, her eyebrows furrowing together. "are you serious right now? you think i'd stoop that low? god, you're so paranoid it's pathetic."

you scoff, crossing your arms. "paranoid? you're the one who stole my phone and shoved me into a damn statue because i wouldn't let you snoop. spare me the innocent act, karina. if you wanted to screw me over, you could've at least been subtle about it."

her jaw tightens, and she takes a sharp step toward you, closing the gap. her eyes are burning, and you can feel the heat radiating off her skin as she leans closer.

"fuck you," she growls, her voice low and dangerous. "fuck you, and fuck your stupid project. i don't need you, and i don't need this."

her words hit hard, and for a second, you almost waver. then the anger returns, and you square your shoulders, meeting her gaze with just as much fury. "funny, because you sure act like you do. all this—" you gesture between the two of you, "—feels a hell of a lot like need, karina."

she recoils, her face contorting with disgust. "god, do you ever shut up?"

"why don't you make me?"

the words slip out without thinking. the air hangs heavy between the two of you, and for a moment, everything is still. then, before you can react, her hand is fisted in the front of your shirt, and she's kissing you hard. the kiss is messy and rough, a clash of teeth and tongues. karina pushes forward, shoving you back until your body collides with the wall. the impact sends a jolt of pain through your arm, but you barely notice. her mouth is hot and demanding against yours, her teeth grazing your lower lip.

your hand tangles in her hair, tugging hard enough to elicit a low groan from her. the sound spurs you on, and you grip her tighter, pulling her closer until there's no space left between the two of you.

"that's better," karina mutters against your lips, her breath warm against your skin. her hands find the hem of your shirt, slipping under the fabric. her touch is like fire, sending a wave of heat through your entire body.

"shut up," you breathe, tugging at her shirt, "and take this off."

karina smirks against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded. "bossy, aren't you?" she teases, but her hands are already moving, tugging her shirt over her head and tossing it carelessly to the floor.

[eclipixels]

Strawberry Sundae

Dante Sparda x Reader

Content: A simple sundae run results in you being jealous, but Dante’s knows how to get that frustration out of you

A/N: I'm back in my Dante Sparda Obsession.

Wanings: 🍋 cunnilingus

[2,192 words]

      Dante just wanted an ice cream sundae.

      That’s what he said when he walked back into the shop, cherry between his teeth and a crumpled napkin in his back pocket you didn’t know about.

      His hair was a little wind-tousled, sunglasses shoved up into his hair, leather jacket hanging lazily off one shoulder like he didn’t have a care in the world. He bit down on the stem of a maraschino cherry and smirked at you.

      “Got the goods,” he announced, flashing the container before tossing it on the counter. Usually you two went together and sat down to eat but you were busy today.

      “They were outta sprinkles, but I figured you’d live.” He handed you your cup of the fudge ice cream sundae while he sat down to eat his strawberry one.

      You were halfway through an eye-roll when you caught it. Just a glimpse. A folded piece of paper sticking out of his back pocket. You didn’t think much of it at first. Dante always had random scraps of crap stuffed in his pockets. Receipts, demon-hunting notes, candy wrappers, whatever.

      But then he tossed it.

      The paper floated out of his pocket like it had a story to tell, catching the air before it landed with a lazy flutter on top of the overflowing trash bin.

      It was a napkin. Lipstick kiss on the corner. A heart doodled in pink pen. And in the middle? A name and a phone number, scrawled with a flirtatious confidence.

      You froze. Dante didn’t even notice. He just strolled past you, cherry stem now tied in a perfect little knot between his teeth. Show-off.

      Your eyes stayed on the trash bin, like the napkin was glowing, taunting you. The lipstick print stared back at you, mocking.

      Call me sometime ;) - Nikki

      You swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of the heat crawling up the back of your neck. He’d been gone all of twenty minutes. Twenty minutes for a sundae. And some random girl had flirted with him hard enough to think she had a chance?

      Did he flirt back?

      Did he smile at her the way he smiled at you?

      Did he lean over the counter with those arms that always looked so damn good rolled up past the elbow? Say something cocky that made her giggle? Maybe he even gave her that look. The one that melts your spine and makes you forget your own name.

      The jealousy was a slow burn at first, curling low in your stomach. You didn’t say anything. You just turned back to the desk, pretending to be busy with paperwork, hoping the knot in your throat would go away.

      But the silence didn’t help. The image kept looping in your head like a broken record. Dante charming some girl who wasn’t you, tossing her number away like it wasn’t worth mentioning what had happened to him at the diner.

      You clenched your jaw.

      And just like that, your mood shifted. Like a storm rolling in from nowhere.

      He didn’t see it coming. You didn’t say a word but your mood flipped like a switch. The rest of the day, you were short, cold, and snappy.

      “You’re not eating?” Dante asked, noticing your untouched ice cream.

      “Not hungry.”

      “You begged me for that damn sundae all week,” he says, giving you a squint like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You feeling sick or something?”

      You shake your head, but your voice comes out too neutral. “I just changed my mind.”

      He watches you for a second longer. The air’s too quiet between you.

      Then, without a word, he stands, plucks the sundae from the counter with a quiet “Don’t wanna waste it,” and strolls to the back to stick it in the fridge.

      When he comes back, he drops a soft, “Let me know when you do want it.”

      You nod without meeting his eyes. He doesn’t push, but you can feel his gaze burning into you. You felt horrible but you were just overwhelmed with these feelings and didn’t want to say or do something out of frustration.

      Later on, he lounges across the couch, legs wide, arms draped across the back. “You wanna go out later? Maybe grab some pizza, shoot something on the way back?”

      “No, I’m fine.”

      “No?” he echoes, lifting a brow. “Damn, okay. You mad I didn’t bring you extra cherries?”

      “No.”

      “Sure as hell sounds like a yes.”

      “Nope.” You gave a small smile, standing up to kiss his nose and going back to what you were doing so he didn’t think you were mad at him. You needed to do something to get rid of this frustration, because it was starting to affect him too.

      “If you say so.”Dante furrowed his brows, but all he could think in his head was ‘liar’ because he knew you. He knew you were trying to hide something. Dante picked up on it fast. He was dense sometimes, but not when it came to you.

      You’re at the front desk, clicking through the bounty board like it owes you money. Eyes on the screen, jaw tight, fingers tense against the keyboard.

      Dante walks in like he owns the damn place—because, technically, he does. You look at him, his ridiculously sexy face, and you can't help but wonder if the thoughts running through your head right now are the same ones that random girl had too. And now you were scowling all over again.

      “Damn,” he whistles low, coming up behind you. “Anyone ever tell you that you look sexy when you’re pissed?”

      You don’t even blink. No smirk. No side glance. No sarcastic comeback. Just cold silence.

      He waits a beat, tilting his head. “That’s a new record. Usually I at least get an eye-roll before the murder glare.”

      Still nothing. You click through another screen.

      “Okay, what’s up with you today?” he finally asked as you stomped around the Devil May Cry office, pretending not to care. “You’ve been throwing daggers at me with your eyes since I came back from my daily sundae run.”

      You scoffed. “Why don’t you go call your little waitress? She seemed really into giving you some extra service.”

      Dante blinked. What were you talking about? How did you even know about—

      “I saw the stupid napkin in the trash.” You huffed, reading his mind and answering his question.

      “So why are you mad at me? I threw it away for a reason.” He threw his hands up in defense.

      “Still it just—it bothers me that it even happened. I don’t like the idea that someone thought of you like that. I’m not mad at you, just mad at the situation.” You grumbled, feeling slightly embarrassed but not backing down from your stubborn attitude.

      “Didn’t even look at it, babe. I was too busy thinking about how good you’d taste with a cherry on top.”

      Your cheeks flamed, but you didn’t let it show. “I’m still upset.”

      “Oh, I know.” His eyes dropped to your body. “I can see it in the way you’re walking around here like you want to murder someone. But lucky for you…” He licked his lips. “I’ve got a better way to help you get all that aggression out.”

      He grabbed his half-melted sundae from the fridge he saved for later and walked over to you, slow and deliberate. You backed up a step, but your thighs hit the desk and he caged you in with his body.

      “I ever tell you how much I like my desserts messy?” he murmured.

      “Dante—”

      He dipped two fingers into the ice cream and slowly dragged them down your collarbone, the cold making you gasp. The ice cream trickled down the curve of your chest, the air drying it quickly and leaving a sticky, sweet sensation clinging to your skin.

      “Still mad?” his eyes darkened as they narrowed, dipping down to follow the trail of ice cream.

      “Shut up.”

      He sank to his knees in front of you, tugging your shirt up and out of the way, tracing a long stripe of ice cream from your navel down lower, so slow it made your breath hitch.

      “I’m gonna eat this off you,” he breathed, voice thick. “And then I’m gonna eat you.”

      You gasped, eyes wide, as his tongue followed the trail of cold sweetness across your skin, hot mouth melting the ice cream and leaving you trembling. His saliva replaced where the ice cream previously coated your skin.

      “Fuck,” you whispered, your hands in his hair now, tugging as he pushed your legs apart.

      “You taste better than any sundae,” he muttered between kisses, mouth moving lower, lower, lips hot and wet as he kissed right over your core through your panties. “So sweet when you’re jealous…”

      He didn’t waste time. He dragged your panties down and tossed them aside, no teasing this time. Not now, not when he was starving.

      And oh how he loved to devour you.

      That’s how he usually started, like he’s tasting something forbidden, something decadent. Like he has all the time in the world to worship you.

      Dante’s tongue makes a pass over your skin, right where the ice cream had melted, and it sends a shock through your entire body. The contrast between the cold desert and the heat of his mouth makes you shiver. He groans low in his throat, dragging his mouth down your inner thigh.

      His hands are strong but gentle as they settle on your hips, holding you steady as he trails kisses up your thigh, open-mouthed, lingering, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He takes his time, nose brushing against the soft skin, breathing you in like you’re oxygen and he’s been suffocating.

      You squirm, but he tightens his grip just a little, teasing. You can feel him smirk against your skin.

      “Uh-uh,” he tuts, lips ghosting over your skin. “You wanted my attention, baby. Now you’ve got it. All of it.”

      He finally reaches the spot you need him most, placing a feather-light kiss there over your soaked panties. You jolt, a whimper slipping from your lips.

      “Dante…”

      He hums in response, the sound vibrating through your core, before he slowly, agonizingly, slides your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere behind him. You barely care where. Not with the way he’s looking at you now.

      Predatory. Possessive. Hungry.

      And then he’s on you again, licking a long, deliberate stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit, like he’s savoring every molecule. Your head falls back with a soft moan, fingers digging into the edge of the desk.

      He doesn’t rush. Not yet. He laps at you lazily, kitten licks at first, then deeper, broader strokes that make your thighs tremble around his head.

      His tongue circles your clit, slow and taunting, until your hips buck forward, chasing more. He chuckles against you, that cocky bastard, and flattens his tongue, dragging it up again before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, enough to make your breath hitch.

      You gasp, hands threading into his hair. “God—fuh...fuck…”

      “Mmm,” he hums, pulling back just enough to speak, breath hot and ragged. “Not God, sweetheart.”

      His tongue curls and flicks right against the sensitive bundle of nerves, relentless now. One hand slips between your legs and two fingers press in slowly, filling you with delicious pressure. He groans when he feels how wet you are, pumping them slowly at first, then curling them inside you, stroking that spot that makes you cry out and tighten around him.

      “You sound so pretty.” he mutters against your core, lips still working on you.

      You moan, loud and needy, back arching off the desk. “Dante—fuck—don’t stop—”

      “Wasn’t planning to,” he growls, tongue working in tandem with his fingers, fast and unrelenting now.

      Every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his fingers is perfectly calculated, deadly in the way only Dante can be. You feel yourself spiraling, thighs shaking around his head, breath coming in ragged gasps. The tension in your body coils tighter, tighter, like a spring about to snap.

      Your hands clutch at his hair, his name falling from your lips in broken cries, over and over.

      And then—.

      Your orgasm slams into you like a wave, tearing a moan from deep in your chest as your body trembles beneath him. Sweet release. Your vision goes white, your thighs clamp tight around his head, and he doesn’t stop. He works you through every twitch and spasm, drinking in every drop like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered.

      Only when you’re completely undone, limp and breathless, does he finally pull back. His mouth and chin glisten with you, and he looks so damn proud of himself it’s almost infuriating.

      “Next time you get jealous… just say so.” Dante stood, licking his fingers like he hadn’t just ruined you. He leans over, caging you in again with that sinful smirk on his lips.

      You glared at him, breathless. “Next time? You planning to flirt with more waitresses?”

      He grinned, teeth sharp.

      “Nope. But I am planning to get more ice cream.”

[ablobwhowrites]

If I may add anything to your Shredder! Reader, what if they have a daughter like Karai from the 2021 series? No abuse, though! This shredder's too silly for that. They more or less have a doofenshmirtz and Vanessa relationship where he adores his daughter, and she kinda finds him embarrassing for being the meme of the villain world. She, too, is a trained kunoichi.

(I think the request asked for a karai that's kinda like 2012 karai but if I got it wrong, I'm very sorry I got it messed up but hopefully you still like it! For more shredder y/n, here's more parts! Part 1, part 2, you are here!, part 4)

I have to tell you. Shredder y/n is the final boss of girl dads cause he loves his daughter, karai so much that he worries for her when shes sparring with his henchmen for training or even go on missions. He is her number on supporter and once when she was little, karai when on her first bank robbery in Gotham and y/n got one of his henchmen to take a picture and still has it hung up in the base and is absolutely proud of it still. When karai was still little, she had doodled on y/n's armor especially helmet and y/n wore it when doing villain stuff because karai said she wanted to make it pretty and god damnit was y/n going to wear it until it faded but was washed off by the rain and little karai got upset when it got washed away.

When karai got to the point of having to care about feminine hygiene. He had called cat woman, Diana, Harley, ivy and everyone who could have advice or tips about helping his daughter because he had a whole list of what could help on those months and every single thing on that list was nearly gone in all the grocery stores just because y/n wanted to be prepared. Plus all the villains and heros met karai some way as some met her when she wasn't a kid and others when we was and cat woman was the first to every see little karai when she snuck into y/n's secret base and saw shredder y/n having tea party with little karai.

If karai ever starts dating, she will know that y/n has some of his foot clan soldiers and regular henchmen to watch over karai to make sure shes safe and even replaced the waiter and karai has to hold it together because henchmen #5 is the waiter and she knows theres about 10 foot clan soldiers outside and three in the restaurant alone with the rest being the chefs (I'm taking inspiration from the game shredders revenge and how you see some of the foot clan soldiers just being chefs and doing other things in the game.) If god forbid does karai's date decide to cheat on her. Shredder y/n will actually kill the date, like I'm not kidding he is like it's the 'open the window Luther' image.

*karai live streaming on her phone*

Karai reading a comment: " 'how old is your dad?' TO OLD FOR YOU AND HES A VILLAIN! STAY AWAY FOR MY FATHER YOU GUYS! STAY AWAY FROM DAD!"

Shredder y/n: "you hungry for pie? Don't worry, y/n's got you!"

Riddler: "Just cause there's wrinkles on the wrapper don't mean the candy ain't sweet."

Karai: "DAD BE CAREFUL THEY ARE FREAKED OUT IN HERE!"

I also like to think the bat kids are kinda jealous because they see how nice shredder y/n is to karai and just wanna have the think karai has. Shredder y/n basically being probably the best dad to her but y/n is kinda is to them but also he's kinda more strict with them because they don't act right sometimes while karai is a full blown kunoichi with shredder y/n's training and listens the first time being told something. (Y/n is basically a second father to the bat kids and super kids as well. Even somewhat the teen titans so imagining that hen with 11 eggs and being all brooding.)

Y/n also had karai's armor custom made by his foot soldiers and y/n is scared to spare with her because he's afraid he'll accidentally hurt her so he tends to be kinda push over a bit and karai is annoyed at and tells y/n to at least try but y/n just says she's not ready. She is a very capable fighter and gets so tired hearing villains ask about her dad and she just complains in Japanese because she hates that every hero and villain what her dad as she sees how 'silly' y/n is and thinks the heros and villains just pity y/n sometimes but y/n can hurt people if he wanted to. Shredder y/n in all is the ultimate girl dad who tries his best to be the best dad and to protect his daughter as much as he can even if it annoys her a lot and she sometimes likes the gifts y/n gets her as y/n remembers if karai says she wants something she said three weeks ago, y/n is getting to and even gets he merch of old cartoons she loved as a kid and she acts like she doesn't like them but she will put them in her room or if it's a plushie, she'll be keeping it on her bed forever and y/n's foot clan soldiers and henchmen like karai as they are basically like uncles and aunts to karai.

Also y/n or one of the henchmen tidy up karai's room and even tucks the plushie she has on her bed in the blankets.

(anyways that's it for now! Hopefully you guys like it and if you do please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's you have! But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

First Impressions

Based on this requested prompt: Reader is friends with/related to Rossi in some way (niece/neighbor) and goes to visit Rossi at his house after he recently got in injured etc in the field. Rossi is looking after Jack for Hotch when he suddenly realizes something about the case so leaves Jack with reader etc. Jack finds out that reader teaches ASL for a living and Jack asks for her to teach him something and she asks what he wants to learn and it's along the lines of "you are my superhero dad, I love you". Aaron's reaction to meeting reader, having been ready to be angry or something bad to have happened but instantly liking and being attracted to her and his reaction to Jack signing to him.

Note: Loved everything about this request by the way. 🥰🥰

"Knock knock uncle!" you announced boisterously as you unlocked and opened the front door to your favorite relative's house. Him being your only uncle had nothing to do with that of course, you only liked him for his funny wit and cringy dad jokes.

"In here Gioia Mia!" his voice replied from the kitchen. Once you rounded the turn, you spotted him, dressed in a cooking apron, injured arm in a sling, trying to open a jar of tomatoes.

"Zio, you're gonna either drop the jar or hurt your arm again by doing that, let me help."

It wasn't until you went over to take the jar from him that you noticed a little boy no older than 6 sitting at the kitchen island, drawing on some scratch paper. You remembered your uncle occasionally mentioning watching his boss' kid from time to time but never actually got to meet him.

Smiling, you gave him a little wave when he looked up at you. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Jack," was all he said. He was polite but clearly shy. After opening the jar and handing it back to your uncle, you took a peek at what he was drawing.

"My name's Y/N. Rossi is my uncle. Whatchya drawing?"

Pulling his marker away, he slid the paper for you to see. "Superman."

You were honestly impressed with his artistic ability. From the flowing cape Superman wore to the big cartoon like letters that spelt out HERO he included, you knew he must be a very smart boy.

"Oh wow, that looks so good. I actually really like Batman," you told him, trying to relate.

"Batman is cool too." He didn't look you in the eyes when he said it, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he went back to drawing. Turning your attention to your uncle, you watched him walking back and forth from the stove to the pantry, grabbing different spices and ingredients for whatever it was he was making. All while checking his phone every 2 seconds.

"Got a hot date?" you teased, taking a plum from the little fruit basket on the counter.

"Ha ha. No, I'm actually waiting for some very important details to a case the team is working on."

You squinted your eyes in suspicion, which he caught onto and huffed. "I'm not doing any strenuous activity fragolina, I'm just helping out where I can. I staying out of the field, I promise."

"Yeah, and you opening jars and cheffing it up in the kitchen like a madman isn't strenuous?"

He made at you to pass him the salt by your hand, which you handed over. "Not when you compare it to breaking down doors and arresting criminals."

You couldn't help but laugh a little at his dramatic comparison. "Yeah, ok Zio. When's the last time you broke down a door? Isn't that the job for that Morgan guy you talk about?"

"Yeah. Well who do you think tells him to break the door down? Me."

He taste tested what you assumed was sauce he was making before adding a heaping load of garlic powder to it. You decided to not to bust his chops anymore and took a seat next to Jack.

"May I borrow a marker?"

He grabbed the pack of colorful tools and placed them in between the two of you before also handing you a proper piece of paper instead of the bill envelope you were planning on doodling on. Your heart melted at his caring act. The two of you scribbled together as you made small talk with your uncle before his phone rang. As he talked with the person on the other line, you noticed a shift in his disposition.

"Are you sure? No, don't worry about it, I'll head over there myself."

Ending the call, he looked around the room as if to gather his bearing and go over a plan in his head before speaking.

"Hey fragolina. I need to leave real quick to just check on something super imperative to the case. Anyway you can watch my buddy here for a little bit? I'll be back within a half an hour."

You glanced over at Jack who was looking at the both of you, a confused look on his face. You tried sounding as least bit intimidating as possible. "Yeah of course. Only if it's ok with you Jack. I know we just met."

"Jack, you can trust her, she's my closest friend. And I'll be back quickly," your uncle added while turning off the stove and removing his apron.

"Sure," was his short reply. It was a reply you could tell he wasn't completely sure about but said it to be polite, knowing his friend needed a favor. You gave him a smile and handed over the purple marker for him to finish coloring in his planet.

"Alright. I'll be right back. Y/N, you have my number, call me if you need anything."

"Sure thing Zio."

Walking around, he gave you a kiss on the head and an affectionate rub on the head to Jack before grabbing his keys and leaving.

The room was quite for a second as it settled in that the two of you were alone but continued drawing, not too bothered by the silence. When you absentmindedly signed for the color blue, he gave you a look of bemusement.

"What was that?" he asked, looking at your hands. Then it hit you that you had signed to a 6 year old boy who was still learning English vocab, let alone ASL.

"Sorry, it's a habit I have sometimes. I teach sign language for my job and when it gets quiet, I sometimes sign instead of talk."

"You know sign language?"

He asked the question with enthusiasm which surprised you. "I do. Do you know how?"

He shook his head. "No, but there's a kid at school that does. It looks cool."

You smiled at his answer, happy that he didn't think it was weird. Most 6 year olds wouldn't be so interested in the matter.

"Would you like me to teach you something? Anything you want."

He nodded excitedly and then took a second to think about it before speaking. "Can you teach me to say, you're my superhero dad, I love you?"

You could've cried right then and there if it wouldn't have made you look like a crazy person. How sweet this little guy was that he thought of his father instead of some silly inappropriate phrase any other boy would have asked for.

"Of course I can!"

So for the next 15 minutes or so, you two sat there and went over the motions, him mirroring you as well as he could which was quite well if you were being honest. It had taken way longer for some of your students to learn one word, let alone a whole phrase like Jack was doing.

"Ok, now I'm not gonna show you this time. You show me," you instructed, having all the faith in him. Slowly, he began signing each word slowly, focusing hard on what motion came after the next, looking down at his hands, practically getting it completely correct by the end of it.

"That was so good Jack! Wow, I'm so impressed. You are so so smart."

He beamed at your compliment, meeting you halfway for a high five. You both ended up moving into the living room and you watched one of his favorite cartoons. Wanting him to be more comfortable with you, you made sure to ask a bunch of questions about the show, loving how his personality was starting to come out the more he talked.

It wasn't much longer that you heard the front door open and multiple voices ring through. One particular voice that you didn't recognize, called Jack's name.

"Dad!" Jack hopped off the couch so quickly, Flash would've been proud and ran over into the arms of who you assumed was his father.

"Hey buddy," his dad greeting, looking over at you with a neutral expression. He was dressed in a full suit that fit him quite well and sported an expensive looking watch. You stood up from your spot on the couch and walked over, feeling a bit nervous at his intense vibe.

"See Aaron, I told you everything was fine," your uncle spoke, giving you a comforting wink. Wanting to be as polite as possible to your uncle's boss, you extended your hand out with a genuine smile.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, Rossi's niece. Everything's been good here, Jack is such a great kid."

He returned the handshake with a professional smile, taking a second to look at you, no doubt profiling you entirely, deeming whether or not you were a right choice to watch his son.

"Aaron Hotchner. Thank you, he is great. What did you guys get up to while we were gone?"

Thankfully, Jack ended up answering for you, saving you from falling over your words while trying not to crumble under his dad's strong gaze.

"She taught me sign language dad!"

He looked down at his son, a look of surprise on his face.

"Here, let me show you."

Everyone watched as Jack began signing to his dad, that same adorable concentrated look on his face. By the end of it, his dad was actually grinning. Teeth and all.

"It means, you're my superhero dad, I love you," Jack explained.

His dad's whole demeanor changed, becoming a whole lot softer and inviting as he bent down to hug his son. It took everything in you not to tear up at the loving interaction.

"That was awesome buddy, I love you too."

You caught a look from his dad, this time a bit more favorable, you now assuming he had made the decision that you were alright. Afterwards, Jack's dad told him to gather his things so they could leave as your uncle went into the kitchen to start the oven, leaving you and Mr. Hotchner alone together.

"I apologize if I seemed a little rude earlier. I'm just very protective of Jack," he explained.

You smiled and waved him off, not admitting that he did have shaking in your boots a little at first. "Oh, you weren't rude. I totally get it, he's your boy. I'd be the same way if he was my kid."

The minute that passed by as you two waited for Jack to return, you could feeling him looking at you again. This time you weren't sure if he was still sizing you up or what but it didn't prevent the raise in blood pressure and slight tinge of pink in your cheeks.

Soon after, Jack came running back, his jacket put on half hazardly and his superman drawing in hand.

"Here. I want you to have it," he told you, handing over the piece of paper. You noticed that he had signed his full name on the bottom corner with a little smiley face. It was definitely the best gift you had gotten in a while.

"Thank you so much Jack. I will put this up in my class so all my students can see how talented my new friend is."

He just smiled in return, taking his dad's hand in his. With his available hand, Mr. Hotchner offered another handshake accompanied with a small friendly smile.

"It was good meeting you. I'm sure this won't be the only time we meet."

You knew he meant it as a cordial statement but you couldn't help but let your girly imagination run wild. I mean the man was tall, professionally accomplished, and downright handsome. Every woman's dream.

"I hope not Mr. Hotchner. It was nice meeting you and spending time with Jack."

"Please. Call me Aaron."

You could've screamed. But instead, you held it together, just smiled and watched them leave, yelling a goodbye to your uncle before closing the door behind them.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and fanned your face.

"Setting up playdates already?" you heard your uncle tease from the kitchen entryway. Being a profiler himself and you a terrible keeper of emotion, he knew what was going through your mind.

"Not another word Zio."

He laughed and threw an extra kitchen apron at you. "C'mon. Help me with the zucchini, lovebird."

[millieisawriter]

okay guys <33 requests keep coming in (just got one for arthur/dutch x brothel worker reader,) and i love that but for some reason (i'm still a lil sick, woke up with a terrible headache) writing has been going slow :( so! not wanting to leave y'all dry i've prepared something like this :)

headcannons: RDR2 men as dads

including: arthur, javier, charles, sean, lenny

Arthur Morgan

considering his past experiences, he'd feel so grateful to have another chance at having family

this time he would leave the outlaw life for his family, now he knows being two things at once, a criminal and a good father, doesn't work

tries to watch his language around the kid, and succeeds most of the time

the most protective dad ever, like he'd fr team up with the kid against you even if you're trying to scold the kid for something she/he did

when i say protective i mean it – if the kid coughs he's rushing her/him to the nearest doctor

he sucks at fishing, but he would take the kid fishing if she/he likes it

if the kid wants a dog, arthur is getting a dog for her/him immediately

would let the kid doodle in his journal

bedtime stories for the kid that are literally about the gang's past, excluding the darker parts of the story

Javier Escuella

writes his own lullabies for the kid

encourages any form of creativity like playing an instrument, singing, dancing

his kid would be the best dressed kid around, he's always getting the prettiest clothes for her/him and teaching about the importance of a clean appearance

but the kid would think it's extremely funny to run from him whenever he's trying to get them to wear a new shiny pair of boots, they just love to rebel against him

tries to watch his language around the kid, nearly failing often like "mierrrr–coles"

the kid would think spanish is harder than english, so whenever javier tried to teach her/him his language, the kid would get frustrated at some point and just scream gibberish

then javier would pick random days where he speaks only spanish to the kid. she/he might be reluctant to answer in spanish, but she/he understands the language well. however, javier will NOT reply until the kid speaks spanish

Charles Smith

teaching the kid about how important it is to respect the nature and the land

would make any toy the kid asks for by hand

i think that's obvious, but he would take the kid hunting when they're old enough

teaching the kid to take care of injured animals, that's how a rabbit ended up living in the house ("temporarily" at first)

would be so happy to let the kid braid his hair or put flowers in it, or if the kid made a flowercrown for him

most calm dad ever, he never gets angry at his kid. he doesn't even need to yell, one look is enough for the kid to stop whatever nonsense they're doing

doesn't panic as long as the kid isn't in a lot of pain. like maybe the kid will fall or get a scrape or a little cut, and charles would be just like "you're fine, walk it off" but he'd say it gently

good at playing hide and seek, many times the kid would just give up searching for him or throw a tantrum because charles found her/him so quick

Sean MacGuire

terrible influence, you couldn't have picked a worse father for your kids

doesn't bother to watch his language around the kid at all, so even if the kid doesn't pick up his accent, they would swear in sean's irish accent

allows his kid to stay up late, eat sweets instead of a normal meal, encourages mischevious behavior

would teach the kid to gamble

his kid is literally his partner in crime, sean would teach her/him how to silently steal from people's pockets or how to pick a lock

getting a mannequin, putting a jacket with many pockets on it, wrapping it in things that make noise like little bells on a string, and telling the kid to pickpocket it without making any noise

the kind of dad that will purposely do something to embarrass his kid in public, but would also brag about his kid

would offer a sip of beer to his kid a few times because "that's not even real alcohol!" but you quickly smack the idea out of his head

neither sean nor his kid are allowed around matches after a small incident that involved matches and hay

Lenny Summers

would make sure his kid is well-spoken and understands the importance of education

takes the kid for trips to a nearby bookstore

at first the kid didn't like reading much, feeling like lenny pressures them too much into it, but eventually they started enjoying books

would raise the kindest, gentlest, most obedient kid ever, the kind of kid that never talks back to the parents

yet still he'd also teach the kid to stand up for themselves when someone would try to push them around

IF the kid did something wrong, lenny would pull up with "I'm not mad, I'm disappointed"

would never fall into the loop of "why" questions, because his answers would be so long and detailed the kid would just give up

[simp-for-love]

Little Things

Mattheo Riddle x femReader

It’s your birthday — a day you never expect much from — but your best friend Mattheo Riddle has other plans.

Warnings: Pure fluff, friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, one perfect and caring boy

Word count: ~ 1,4k

A/N: to my sweet and absolutely beautiful angel @ur-local-wizard. I wanted to give you something warm and soft like you do every time I talk to you. Love you, be happy today and always 🩷

P.S.: Check her works. She's not only kind and sweet, but also a really talented pookie.

You had never expected much from birthdays. A few texts, maybe a cupcake from a coworker, some calls from your family. You didn't mind it, not really. You were used to being the one who planned surprises, made lists and notes, remembered everyone else's special days. All those little things made them happy. So you were glad you could bring some joy to people's lives. It just felt easier that way — safer.

But Mattheo Riddle always had other ideas.

It started with a text at 8:01 a.m.

"Happy birthday, sunshine.

Hope u got some sleep. Big day ahead."

You blinked at your screen in confusion. Big day? That sounded oddly suspicious. But you brushed it off — he was certainly just being dramatic. He always had a thing for theatrical gestures and words. Mattheo was probably going to bring you a cake with silly wish and doodle on it or sing you a ridiculously bad version of happy birthday song.

With that thought you shuffled into your kitchen to find a little white bag waiting for you on the counter with your name scribbled on it in Mattheo's awful, jagged, but heartwarming in its familiarity handwriting.

Something warm stuttered in your chest. He'd been here?

You opened the bag carefully. Inside was your favorite coffee — from the one café that managed to make it exactly right — and a note:

"I know you always say you don't care about birthdays. But I do. So drink this and don't argue. — Yours, M"

You read it twice. Then again, like the paper in your hands was just an illusion of your still sleepy mind.

You didn't know what to make of it. He was your best friend. He teased you constantly, poked fun at your bad TV taste, stole fries off your plate, send you links to the most unhinged memes with cats at 2 a.m.

But this? This was... thoughtful. Almost soft.

And it made your cheeks warm and chest tighten gently — that quiet, fluttery ache that had started happening more often around him lately. Like your heart was trying to tell you something before your mind caught up.

You didn't know when it had started. Maybe the time he shared his last bite of your favorite dessert without being asked, or when he walked you home in the rain just because.

But he kept doing things like this. Little things. Gentle things. Things that made you feel seen. And it was getting harder and harder to pretend you didn't feel anything.

You drank the coffee with a silly little smile on your lips, but still, you truly expected that to be the end of it — coffee, note, maybe a sarcastic card later in the evening.

You were wrong.

At exactly 2 p.m., Mattheo showed up at your door. His arms were full of takeout boxes, a messily wrapped gift tucked under his arm.

You blinked in surprise, opening and closing your mouth a few times before managing, "Are you—?"

"Yes," he said with a proud nod, pushing past you. "Happy birthday, beautiful. Now move. I’m setting up."

You followed him into your own living room like a confused puppy. Your eyes lingered on Mattheo as he unpacked the food, casually taking over your table like this was just a normal Thursday occurrence.

"I—, you— what is happening right now, Matt?"

Mattheo didn’t look up, too busy with setting the table up. "You're having a good day. And I'm helping with it. That's what's happening," he said matter-of-factly.

"You got me four different kinds of pasta," you exclaimed, looking at the food with wide eyes.

He just shrugged. "Couldn't remember which one was your favorite. So I got them all."

Your brain and heart short-circuited once again in his presence.

You sat beside him, the scent of garlic, basil and lemon drifting in the air, making your mouth watering. He handed you a fork with triumphant gesture and a warm container of something that smelled heavenly.

"Try the gnocchi," he said. "You'll cry."

You took a bite. And, damn him, you almost did.

Halfway through the meal, your laughter bubbled out uncontrollably. He'd gotten sauce on his shirt and tried to wipe it with a paper napkin, only smearing it worse across the fabric.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, mock-scandalized. "I made a mess for you. It's festive."

"You're a menace," you replied with a smile, not being able to stop giggling.

"And you love it."

All you managed to do in response was to blush and look away.

He let it go and didn’t comment. But his eyes lingered on you a moment longer, quiet and warm.

Later, after the food and the laughter and the truly cursed attempt at karaoke to Beggin’, Mattheo grabbed the little maroon gift box from the table.

"I debated ten different things," he said, pressing it into your hands. "This one felt right."

You unwrapped it carefully, your stomach fluttering at the idea of him thinking so much about your gift. Inside was a custom vinyl record with your name etched on the label. The sleeve was personalized with a little doodle of you — stars in hair, a gentle smile on your lips — and inside was a playlist of Måneskin songs, curated "For the softest girl with the loudest heart."

You stared at it, blinking hard, trying not to cry. "Mattheo..."

"You like it?" he asked, suddenly looking genuinely nervous.

"I— I don't know what to say," you mumbled quietly as your fingers ran on the vinyl reverently.

"Say I'm a genius."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

You looked up at him, heart hammering in your chest.

He was so close. Closer than you expected. His knees brushed yours, and his eyes — usually gleaming with mischief — were unreadable but quietly genuine now.

"Mattheo," you whispered. "It's... Why are you doing all this?"

He tilted his head slightly, smile shifted into something softer. "You really don't know, do you?" he asked gently, almost like talking to a child.

You shook your head, small and uncertain.

He reached for your hand, thumb brushing your knuckles tenderly.

"I've wanted to do something like this for you since the day we met," he said finally. "You're always doing things for everyone else. You light up every room you walk into and never even notice. You make people feel seen — and you never ask for anything back."

Your breath caught. That quiet and gentle ache in your chest intensified again.

"I guess I just wanted you to feel special. Because you are. And not just today." His voice dropped lower. "You're special to me every day."

You looked down overwhelmed, not being able to hold his gaze that was shining with warmth and softness. The record clutched in your lap, his fingers laced through yours, your heart in your throat.

"But it's too much," you trailed off quietly. "You didn’t have to do all of this. We're just—"

"Friends?" he asked softly.

You managed to barely nod.

He smiled with a hint of sadness in it. "Since it's your birthday, let me tell you a secret. I think I've been in love with my best friend for a while now."

Silence stretched. Gentle, pulsing silence.

You looked up at him slowly, feeling your cheeks burning. "Me?" The question slipped out from your lips without thinking — surprised, hesitant, maybe a little hopeful.

He laughed softly, shaking his head a bit. "Obviously you. Who else would put up with me?"

Your cheeks burned even more now.

"I— I didn't know," you whispered, still trying to process the information.

"I guess I just didn't want to pressure you," he said, free hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "But it's your birthday. And I thought... if there was ever a time to tell you, it's today."

You stared at him. At the boy who remembered your favorite band, your favorite coffee, your little throwaway comments from months ago. The boy who made you laugh when you wanted to cry. Who was loud and ridiculous and impossible — and who, somehow, made you feel like you mattered more than anyone in the whole world.

You leaned in before you could second-guess yourself.

And Mattheo met you halfway.

The kiss was soft. Sweeter than you ever thought a kiss could be. A little clumsy. A little breathless. Like he'd been waiting a long time, and didn't want to rush a second of it.

When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours.

"So," he said, grinning like he'd just won in the lottery. "Best birthday ever?"

You laughed, heart full to the brim. "Yeah. It really is."

And he kissed you again, sealing your words with his lips.

[sapphicswph]

may i rq smth about lottie w a shorter gf !!! she's like 5'10 and i'm 5'2 n i drool thinking abt her i wanna climb her like a tree :33

also may i pls be ☁️ anon ?

i’m 5’5 and she’s so tall….. i need her so bad ^.^

and yes you may !!

pairing: lottie matthews x reader

warnings: lot of fluff, light smut, suggestive themes, 18+!

─ .✦ lottie who is a full head taller than you, her constantly having to bend down for kisses. she has to bend down to kiss you on the forehead, making you tip your chin up to steal proper kisses. she often jokes that you need a ladder to kiss her properly. she loves coming behind you and rest her chin on top of your head.

─ .✦ even though lottie is taller than you, she loves being babied by you as well! she loves being the small spoon just as much as big spoon. whenever she wants to be the small spoon, she’s trying to curl up to make herself as small as possible so you’ll fit perfect behind her.

─ .✦ her leaving stuff on higher surfaces so you can’t reach. she never means to do it, she just forgets that you’re smaller than her.

─ .✦ when you use her car, you have to adjust the seat and steering wheel. it always looks comical when she sits down after you’ve used the car, her being hunched over while adjusting it back to what she calls “normal.”

─ .✦ walking beside her, linking your hand around her bicep or resting your head on it. aghhh 😞

─ .✦ her using your head as an armrest lmao. holding your shoulder or having her arm around your shoulder, or or !! her having a hand on the small of your back while guiding you in public. just because she loves to keep her hands on you all the time.

─ .✦ she loves being a gentlewoman.🥲 holding doors open for you, spoiling you, buying you flowers, writing you cheesy love notes with doodles, doing chores around the apartment. you always insist on helping her with chores but she shoo you away because “i want to take care of you, rest.” even though you’ve been resting all day.

─ .✦ and i just know she shoves and tackles a lot on the field, definitely using her height as an advantage.😭 you watching from the bleachers, slightly concerned every time she shoves someone. lottie just loves showing off in front of you, pushing harder and looks up at you every time she scores or does something slightly impressive, she wants to know if her girl saw it! of course you did and she rambles about it on the way home like a very excited child. you always praise her - telling her how good she did, how proud you are of her and she has the biggest smile on her face, she loves being praised by you.

─ .✦ her letting you sit on her shoulders at concerts or festivals so you can see better, sigh.

─ .✦ she loves backshots… looking down at you from above as she thrusts into you with her hands digging into your hips. wrapping her arm around your waist to pull you closer, burying her face in your neck as she babbles about how good you feel while panting in your ear. you can only moan and drool into the pillow.

─ .✦ the way she always looks at you like a lovesick puppy. you could be doing the most mundane task, like studying and she’d just stare at you. just know she has way too many pictures of you on her phone, mostly candid.

─ .✦ her armssss…🤤🤤🤤 you love watching her do pull ups on the bar above your bedroom door, the way her arms flex while pulling her body up, the small grunts. it turns you on so bad - wishing those arms were holding you while pounding into you instead. you have to pull her down and into bed.

─ .✦ her always having to get you the stuff on the higher shelves in stores. you always try getting it yourself first, wanting to be independent and don’t rely on lottie. you try jumping, no success. standing on your toes, no success. you look over at lottie with a frown and she gets it for you. :)))) sometimes when something is too high up, even for lottie - you laugh and tease her about it. it’s funny until she makes a comment about your height or hold it out of reach so you can’t get it. it’s only funny when you do it, not ok when she does it.🙄

─ .✦ doing silly dances with you in the living room while listening to your vinyl player, she loves twirling you around, ughhh.☹️

─ .✦ always doing bunny ears on you in group photos or when someone is taking pictures of the two of you. you don’t notice until you see the pictures - swatting her chest with a small laugh and a pout, making her do the pictures again.

─ .✦ you love giving her forehead kisses as well, you can only reach when she’s sitting down though :((. so you’ll sometimes cup her cheeks, making her bend down to your level so you can kiss her forehead, yay.

─ .✦ her carrying you on her back when you’re exhausted or drunk, you’re just clinging to her like a koala. if you’re wearing high heels, she’ll carry them for you as well… needthat rahhh 😣

i’m currently binge playing tomb raider (againnn) and trying to get the requests done at the same time. dw they’ll come, just bear with me! 🙏

[katiekatdragon27]

Dandy's World Roleplay servers are so wild and unhinged that it makes me come up with AUs. And yes, it's shinyshrimp. I'm so cringe <333

So, while in the roleplay server, I got into an argument with a Shrimpo as Glisten about not being able to see proper reflections though Glisten's face. Then a Goob showed up (my sibling) and asked if Shrimpo was a vampire. Then they asked if Glisten (me) was a vampire. Then we asked the Goob if he was a vampire, and he turned emo. And then I shared this experience with my friends, and they egged me on to make an AU about it lol.

Glisten: So. Is this the part where we make out, orrr-?? Shrimpo: WHAT??!

Dandy: No cuz it's genius! If they hate each other, that's two less annoying people to deal with! (He underestimated the power of enemies to lovers)

The general plot is Glisten is a monster hunter and Shrimpo is a human turned vampire-werewolf (he has no memory of how that happened btw). Glisten is specifically hired by Dandicus to hunt down and kill Shrimpo. Glisten manages to hunt Shrimpo down, but since Shimpo hasn't been non-human for that long, he puts up a kinda pathetic fight. Glisten puts Shimpo's arrogant ass in place and refuses to kill him so they can fight honorably. Shrimpo takes this personally lol and strives to get better at fighting so he can show up Glisten.

Badabing badaboom, enemies to lovers setup.

Dandy did not see that coming and it pisses him off lol.

Shrimpo: I HATE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- Astro (to himself): WTF is up with this guy?

This was a doodle recommended by an awesome artist in a server I'm in (dunno if they wanna be tagged lol). Astro being a moon moth thing causes Shrimpo to howl at him lol. Also part of the reason Dandy dislikes Shrimpo lol. Also also, Astro is a witch.

Also also also, here's the emo Goob my sibling became when discussing vampires. He unemos when he becomes a weredog lol.

Below is a buncha doodles all about Glisten (and his failing mental health).

TW FOR UNINTENTIONAL S.H. PROCCED WITH CAUTION:

You guys know Wiggle from Bugsnax? You guys know Millie from Helluva Boss? Yeah. They were the main inspos for this design hc lol (the buck teeth part not the insecurity part).

I have this goofy hc that Glisten's og design never intended to give him buck teeth. When being made, the ichor messed up and gave it to him. Learning about this is his first instance of feeling insecure about himself, and he develops the mannerism of covering his mouth when laughing (bc it makes his teeth really obvious lol)

And since Glisten now has buck teeth, that means Shimmer also gets buck teeth! However, her reaction to them was completely different to how her dad reacted to his.

I have this hc that Glisten can't handle backlash that well. With the machine messing up with his face (his teeth), and his general vibe being disliked by many people of the time of Gardenview (prob bc the 90s and very queer-coded kids' character didn't exactly mix well), he feels this crippling pressure to be the "perfect" version of himself.

If he deems you lower than him, your words don't matter. He doesn't care what you think about him

However, if he views you as an equal or higher, any kind of negative opinion said to him will be taken personally, and will either be repressed into self-hatred, or actively worked upon in order to be "better" (which ends up hurting him more depending on the situation.) His need for perfecting also makes him a workaholic when in a spiral, leading him to self-isolate and just kinda hide away from everyone for a couple days, and sometimes injure himself trying to get better on his own (he has a tendency to scratch his arms and face too, only fueling his need for isolation).

He refuses to open the door and get food outside, so ppl will slide him snacks and things under the door. People still care about him, but he'll never them see him cry.

Glisten has such horrid insecurity that he will never let anyone see. However, not everything is bleak for the guy.

Shimmer: Hey Dad! Guess what!? My teeth grew in! Now I look like you! Isn't that cool?!

She was not born with them unlike Glisten. Instead, they grew in near her "10th" birthday. She was very happy to have them. I like to think that seeing Shimmer be so happy to have a very sensitive trait of Glisten and loving every second of it helps him heal a bit of his insecurity.

After all, how can he hate a part of himself that his kid adores?

Kids don't fix everything, but they can aid in healing lol

Have a good one dudes^^

[huntingcupid]

MULTO — J.Y

hindi na na-nanaginip hindi na ma-makagising pasindi na ng ilaw minumulto na 'ko ng damdamin ko ng damdamin ko 'di mo ba ako lilisanin? hindi pa ba sapat pagpapahirap sa 'kin?

⌗ YOONCHAE — fem!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, exes, crying, long distance relationship, lovers to strangers, etc...

⌗ SYPNOSIS — 2 years had passed yet even as you see her succeeding you can't help but feel a twinge of sorrow, missing what you two used to be, what you could've been

⌗ CUPID — hihi multo means ghost by the way its a filipino song by cup of joe, its meaning is dealing with a person ypu loved dissappearing/growing distant, and how their presence haunts you, aka missing them

the café was quiet only the hum of the soft music playing from the TV was audible and the soft clicking of keyboards, you had chose this place to study

you weren't one to go to public places to read nor learn you preferred the comfort of your dorm yet for once maybe you wanted a challenge, it smelled heavenly in here as well and unlike other cafés whom have bitter or oversweet tasting matcha they had a pretty good one a perfect balance if you do say so yourself

after typing in the last few words of your essay, you stretched and unexpectedly looked at the tv, It was playing random kpop and western music, but somehow katseye was playing the song “touch” — you stared at it for a bit, and seeing yoonchae was something you didn’t want to do

yoonchae and you were highschool sweethearts, the two quiet nerdy girls in the back of the class giggling over stupid jokes and making silly doodles on each others notebooks — it all changed when yoonchae told you about her auditioning to a company named hybe

“wait, does that mean you're gonna leave me?” you murmur, you two sat in front of a convenience store sipping on hot instant ramen — “i- uhm i don't know y/n — but I'm not accepted yet! we can still stay together” yoonchae says trying to brighten up the mood her hands covering yours as she rubs her thumb across your palm

you nod, yet deep down you knew she already got accepted, yoonchae dreamed about being an idol, she would yap to you for hours on end, showing fancams of her favorite groups — smiling stupidly when seeing girls her age debuting

“yoon, you know I'll support you right? — it's okay if you leave it's for your dreams anyway” you mutter back looking into the youngers eyes seeing a hint of hesitation, you knew how much she loved you, how much she cared about you — you cared the same way, so if that meant letting her go you would do it with no problem, “but, i-” the Korean tried reasoning before you shake your head just smiling softly at her

“yoon, it's alright — if you need me I'm only one call away” you replied, at that moment yoonchaes shoulders weren't tense anymore and she looked rather calmer — “i love you” she says shyly blushing lightly, “i love you more dummy” you giggle

that month yoonchae started packing and buying random things to bring, sending random letters to her other friends and distant family — she started missing school and deleting her posts on social media which you knew was needed but some of the post was your memories with her,

"사랑 (love) i have to go tomorrow, can you help me get to the airport?” yoonchae asks over the phone — you smile to yourself but a twinge of sadness started spreading in you, “yes of course darling” you replied, yoonchae then talks about the place she was going to and how different it looked until you two fell asleep while on call

the morning of the youngers flight you wait outside her house, seeing her walk out with her life in two huge bags was something that definitely hurt and made you proud — she's growing up so quickly, you felt tears fall to your cheeks and immediately yoonchae comes running to you, “are you crying?, baby don't cry!” yoonchae murmurs hugging you tightly

her head on your shoulders as you let her vanilla perfume invade your senses — “mhm, I'm just happy seeing you be brave and grow so fast” you mutter back, her mom hugs you two and smile softly — the drive was short yet with yoonchaes hand over yours it felt like forever, you'd often steal glances at her seeing how happy she looked and excited she was made you the happiest woman ever

the car parked near the entrance and you helped the younger bring her bags in, it felt like time was moving so quickly

yoonchae started crying as she hugs her family and finally you, she murmurs a bunch of things talking about how nervous and worried she is yet you reassured her – it felt unreal that she was leaving alone, and you didn't want to cry, you didn't want to make her feel worse, so you smile through it and just waved her off

that very night you sobbed into your pillows already missing the girl, missing her hug, her jokes and her voice — you went through you favorite albums in your gallery, pictures of you two or just her — drawing, dancing, singing or going to the park

the first week you two learned how to get over the time difference and with her busy schedule, the second week you stopped calling reasoning that she needed to focus on her training, the third you two mutually agreed to stop talking — it hurt yet you knew it was for the best,

"its for the best right?" yoonchae asks almost hesistant her voice small and fragile, "it is yoonie, i love you okay?" you mutter back tears flowing to your face, yoonchae murmurs an i love you back before the call ended, the very last call you two had

you'd silently support her, voting for her every mission even making a fan account, when she debuted it felt like you also got your dream come true, after her debut you stopped watching her content and started focusing on yourself, studying and studying

you'd often stumble across old pictures and your texts with yoonchae and reminisce about what you two were, your classmates would ask if you two were still talking, you'll dodge the question and try to keep her name out of your mind yet when the nights too lonely, you'd relapse and think about her again

you blink and turn back to your laptop, biting your lip as you fight back your emotions, checking your essay one final time before packing up and leaving the café, yoonchae was and will always be the right person, yet you two met in the wrong time, fell in love at the wrong time — all you hope was for her to be happy, happy that her and your dreams were now accomplished, she'll always be in your mind, in your heart like a ghost haunting your everyday life, yet this ghost you didn't want to leave

wc: 1.1k words

hey erm i love yoonchae so this is literally the most angsty thing i can write for her oml

[pangolin-404]

Finished suturing kit last night (It broke me) and just saw the "She's careful with her teeth" art. Tell me EVERYTHING abt Sam x Hellen 👀👀❤️

you've caught me at the perfect time (doodling them)

I'm still getting a solid grasp on their relationship (both platonic and romantic) but so far:

Hellen is extremely blunt about many things, but not cruel. Sam appreciates this. It's kind of unclear how much of a toll the Visitor took on her mind, or if she was just like that. Did she kill anyone pre-Visitor? Sam's not sure.

Hellen likes Sam's kindness and general demeanor. He's endearing, honest, and extraordinarily patient with all he has to deal with. Strangely collected and soft, even in such an environment.

generally strong mutual respect for each other's skills and tenacity

Sam tends to shoulder a lot of responsibility, which Hellen normally allows. She sees that he's got a good head on his shoulders and doesn't intend to get in the way of the latest plan he's zeroed in on (besides, she's got nothing better to do). But when Sam steps back from the front, he gives the reins to Hellen.

Both Sam and Hellen like doing things for people to show they care. Sometimes they get in each other's way about this. Sometimes it works out (Sam cooks, Hellen does the dishes after).

They try to get into each other's interests. Hellen will lean over the back of the couch to watch Sam play games with Joel (or whoever he's with that session), but wouldn't have any interest in playing herself. Likewise, he'll listen to Hellen talk about plants, and the garden she maintained pre-Visitor. She rarely talks about herself, so it's nice when she opens up a bit. Maybe, eventually, she admits she wants to return to it when everything's over, even if the plants get weird.

the day Sam digs up a gardening game is a beautiful day of bonding

Sam is afraid of, or unsettled by, Hellen's face for some time, but he's seen enough horrors to not react to it. She knows it scares him. Neither of them could put a finger on exactly when Sam stopped being afraid. Over time, and depending on who else lives with Sam, Hellen grows more comfortable leaving the mask off in the apartment.

They're each, in their own ways, unused to human contact. Sam was extremely lonely pre-Visitor, and Hellen's whole perception of herself and her relation to others shifted when she looked outside (she views herself as objectively frightening and something unpleasant to look at; she doesn't want to scare everyone on sight <- I'm still tentative on that take but she's got SOMETHING going on). tldr they're awkward about each other and holding hands

Even during the apocalypse, time to take things slow is rare. They're always either in the trenches or recovering from a fight or stressful encounter. Hardly enough time to be with each other, or even the other people in the apartment, in a peaceful way. Always other things and other people (mainly the kids) to worry about. Not quite such a thing as domesticity, out there.

If Monty and Xaria have kicked Sam out of his own room, he occasionally sleeps against or on top of Hellen while she keeps watch.

even though Hellen is careful, she does end up accidentally biting Sam while kissing him at least once she's bitten him on purpose too

the goofy rabbit drawing kinda gives away part of what I think the rest of hellen looks like. but yeah that, just to a far greater extent. all cuts across her flesh opening into teeth and sometimes eyes. she doesn't have a lot of sensation or control over those mouths but she gets kissed there too because why not, she deserves it :)

Fifteen days wasn't enough for them to know each other as well as they would've liked.

[lacroixqueen]

carve your name into my bedpost stalker deadpool x fem!reader (18+, very explicit non-con)

Summary: deadpool breaks into reader's apartment after stalking her. non-con stuff ensues, don't like don't read.

Pairing: stalker deadpool x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: very explicit penetrative non-con, choking, stalking

Part 1, not necessary for this fic but provides context

Note: I'm soso sorry this took so long this week was so busy and I had the worst writer's block ever. Please enjoy!

You were shocked when you learned that your apartment was broken into the other day. Immediately after walking into your home, you could tell that someone was there before. The objects you arranged so painstakingly and meticulously on your shelves were moved ever so slightly. Even the smell was subtly different. 

And your dresser. As soon as you opened the top drawer, your heart sank into your stomach. You could tell all your underwear was rifled through. And where was that extra pair of tights you kept around?

The note he left on your kitchen table was the icing on the cake. The doodle of the mask. You recognized it from earlier that morning.. The guy in the elevator who seemed a little bit odd but overall seemed friendly enough. You wanted to kick yourself for deciding to be nice to a stranger just for once. 

The police came and searched everything, of course. They told you it was “inconclusive” and that “anyone could have written the note”. They advised you to lock your doors at night, and that they would have a patrol car circle around your neighborhood. And just like that, they were gone and you were alone again. 

You made a point to close all your curtains and deadbolt all your doors. But he was still watching you, of course, perched on a tree branch right outside your window. He thought it was adorable, really, that you thought a couple metal locks and keys would somehow prevent him from breaking and entering again. 

You changed into your lingerie slip dress, careful to look over your shoulder just to check the corner of your bedroom. You figured at this point, since law enforcement was unwilling to do anything, you might as well try to get some rest and figure out a new game plan in the morning. Curling up in bed, you hugged your pillow close to your chest and drifted off into a deep slumber. 

He liked to watch you sleep. The way your chest slowly rose and fell with every breath you took. How your lingerie was so short it barely covered the tops of your thighs. Your soft tits pressed up against the sheets. That subtle furrow between your brows and pout in your lips. And how peaceful you looked. He wished he could capture this moment and frame it so he could enjoy it for the rest of eternity. 

He couldn’t take sitting around waiting anymore. He just wanted to come in and touch you. With one smooth motion, he leapt from the branch and onto your windowsill. He took his blade and gently drew an indent through one of the bottom tiles. Gingerly, he pushed the glass through. Slipping his hand through the opening, he unlocked your window from the inside. 

I am just too good, he snickered to himself, quite proud of his accomplishment. He lifted up the window and carefully stepped onto the carpet, extra cautious not to awaken you. He quickly snuck into your bed, sliding in to spoon you from behind. 

He liked how warm you felt against his skin. It was almost as if, even for a second, that he was no longer in the constant state of pain he was always in. You shifted around slightly in your sleep, and to his surprise, actually cuddled up even closer against him. You murmured something softly to yourself, and then returned back to your peaceful rest. 

He traced the contour of your thighs, hips, and waist with his gloved fingertips, appreciating the fine texture of your lingerie. He gently pushed locks of your hair out of the way to expose your neck. 

Quietly, he lifted up his mask just enough to reveal his lips and suckled on the sensitive curve of your neck. He cradled your round breasts in his hands, pressing his body against your back as he worshiped your soft, supple skin with his mouth. 

You moaned a little in your sleep, raising up your hands slightly to catch his, and he gladly interlaced your fingers with his own. He was shocked that you were taking this so well, mirroring all of his motions and going with the flow as he ravaged you so freely. It only emboldened him to do more. 

He ventured two of his fingers in between your lips, gently teasing the top of your tongue while he reached for the back of your throat. This was enough to stir you from your slumber, and you woke up groggily to the moonlight pouring through your window. 

“Mffhn..” you sputtered through his fingertips sleepily. “Hwghn!”

“Shh shh shh..” Deadpool whispered, his arm immediately tightening around your waist to prevent you from wriggling away. “You are safe.. you’re with me after all!”

Immediately, your blood ran cold, heart dropping into the deepest pits of your stomach. “How the hell did you even get in here?!” you exclaimed, pushing his hand out of your mouth and struggling to escape from his grasp. 

“Well it’s not like you live in some maximum security prison,” Wade explained matter-of-factly. “I just scaled your building, climbed up the conveniently placed sycamore out there, beautiful specimen by the way, smashed your window, and voila! Trespassing 101.”

“You are insane!” you cried out, trying to push his arm loose so you could break free but failing miserably at the same time. “I had to call the police, did you know that? How the hell did you even find out where I live? I barely even spoke a sentence to you that day!”

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” the mercenary said. “You would be surprised at the amount of information someone could find out about you with just your name. And besides, you were sweet enough to give me a lukewarm skinny vanilla latte the other day. You know I had to pay it forward and return the favor..”

“I just want you to leave me alone, please,” you begged, trying to hold back tears. “I haven’t done anything to anyone, I just want to live my life. Please, just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

“You are so naive, you know that?” Wade teased, watching you begin to cry helplessly. “It’s not the fact that you’ve done anything, it’s that you haven’t done anything. And also that I’m just an intensely obsessive person who tends to hyperfixate on whatever catches my attention, speaking of which, that is definitely something I should bring up in therapy next week.”

“I don’t understand..” you sighed, teardrops falling down your cheek, which Wade gladly licked up, much to your dismay. He brushed his hot tongue against your sensitive skin, tasting your salty tears without even an ounce of hesitation. 

“A-are you going to kill me?” you stammered, turning your face as far away from him as possible as he kissed your wet cheek. 

“Kill you?” Wade repeated, drawing back slightly. “Who do you think I am, a monster? I mean, to be fair, yes, I do occasionally take the odd hit deal every now and then, but only if it is within my paygrade! After the entire saving the world as we know it thing, I don’t know if you heard about it, but people have been blowing my phone up non-stop, it’s out of control!”

You gasped as his free hand reached up to grasp firmly around your throat, his pressure increasing ever so slightly by the second. 

“But I gotta say,” his tone immediately darkened. “The feeling of choking someone so hard, to the point where they are right at the cusp between life and death, never fails to get me going. I mean, I am so hard right now, you wouldn’t believe it!”

You tried to gulp up a breath of air, but his hold was unrelenting. You whimpered helplessly when you felt his hand untangle from around your waist and lift up the bottom of your lingerie dress to reveal your lacy thong. 

“Ooooh, now what do we have here,” he snickered to himself, fondling your exposed ass and smacking it hard, causing your entire body to shake. 

“Pl-please no..” you begged, more tears cascading down your face. “I-I haven’t done it yet.. with anyone. I want my first time to be special. You can do anything to me just please, not that.”

Wade gasped, quite taken aback by your statement. “You’re a virgin?” he asked, finally releasing his grip from around your neck. He could feel your body shaking helplessly against him out of fear. “Oh. My. God. That was something I did not expect. I mean, absolutely, I thought you looked like a sweet innocent little thing but to not give yourself away to anyone even once? How the hell does that even happen? Is it like a religious thing or something? Because I respect all religions. One of my best friends, Dopinder is Hindu. Oh, and my roommate, Blind Al, took me to church one Sunday and I truly saw the light that day!”

“N-no it’s not that,” you stuttered, coughing up some of your saliva. “I just.. haven’t had the opportunity I guess.”

“Well you are in for a treat,” the assassin said with a tone of finality, his attention returning to your skimpy underwear. “Because I have been told by many that I fuck hard. Someone even told me that I was the best they ever had. But that’s because they fucked me, eh, regardless it was still an amazing experience.”

“Please don’t..” you whined, trying to pull down the skirt of your lingerie to cover up. “I-I don’t want to do it with you..”

“I am hurt!” Wade replied, clasping his heart theatrically. “After my entire sales pitch? You know, you really are something, Y/N. Most people would be thrilled, over the moon right now. But you are practically begging me to stop! Well, let’s see if we can change your mind..”

He pushed your hand out of the way, and proceeded to tug the thin fabric covering you to the side, revealing your pretty, swollen pussy. 

“My god,” the assassin breathed to himself, allowing his fingertips to dance over your delectable peach. “Y/N, you are perfect. I mean, look at this thing. She’s practically begging me to fuck her. And you’re saying no one else has ever had you before? This has gotta be some sort of sick joke.” 

He leaned down, as if to talk to your pussy. “I am so sorry that no one has ever given you the attention you deserve before. But I am gonna make sure that this will be the best fuck of your life. Okay? Okay, good talk.” 

You grabbed your pillow and hugged it close to your chest, burying your tear-stained face against it, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next. “J-just.. Be gentle please. If you’re going to do it anyway, please don’t make it hurt.”

Wade began to rub your tight little mound, drawing undulating circles over your labia, coaxing it to open up for him. He could feel your juices slowly sliding through, coating his leather-gloved fingers. 

“Ooo, you’re getting wet, Y/N,” he laughed. “And don’t you worry your sweet little head, my angel baby girl. I will take very, very good care of you..” Without another word, he slipped his index finger inside of you, causing you to clench tightly around him. 

You sunk your teeth into the fabric of your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt him penetrate you for the first time. 

“You are already resisting me, even if it’s just a finger,” Wade murmured. “You need to relax, Y/N. Just let me do all the work, okay? You just lay there and be the adorable pillow princess I know that you are.”

“But it hurts,” you sobbed quietly, clutching the pillow even tighter. 

“I know, baby, I know,” Wade cooed, his voice surprisingly gentle. You were taken aback by how quickly his tone could shift. In the matter of a split second. 

He felt your vagina slowly open up to him, enticing him to slip his middle finger in as well. “Now how does this one feel, Y/N?”

You were squeezing your knees together, still crying softly to yourself. Wade looked over your neck, gently prying the pillow out of your hand. “Let me see your face.”

You looked away from him, too scared to even make eye contact. He leaned down and kissed over your tears, still fingers-deep inside of you. “God, you are so fucking precious, you know that? It’s extremely irritating.”

“I’m.. sorry?” you said confusedly, bringing the pillow back over your face. 

Wade shook his head as he continued to finger your innocent pussy, pistoning his fingers back and forth. “Yeah, well, you should be. Because it’s very fucking distracting.”

You sighed as you felt his two expert digits pushing in and out of you, gasping when he stretched them apart, trying to test your limit. 

“You are soaking wet..” Wade breathed, as he withdrew his gloved hand and licked you off of him, a string of saliva connecting between his lips and fingertips. “I think you’re ready for me, Y/N.”

“N-no please don’t!” you cried, trying to wriggle away from him, but his arm already snaked back around your waist, locking you in place. 

“Oh, but I have to now,” Deadpool replied with glee. “We can’t just let the readers down without showing the grand finale. They’ve read up to this point, after all. I mean, that’s like the best part!”

He carefully unzipped his fly, allowing his cock to free out, pressing it up against your mound. He pushed and prodded it up against you, trying to elicit a reaction out of you. “How does this feel, Y/N?”

“It feels.. weird,” you responded, clenching your legs together out of apprehension. “W-would you even fit?”

“I’ll sure as hell try,” Wade said, teasing your entrance by pressing his tip right up against you. “You aren't getting out of this that easy, Y/N. If it doesn’t fit, I’ll make it fit. You just sit there and take it. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a single damn thing. Okay?”

He gradually pushed himself inside of you, filling you up slowly and surely. He could feel the insides of your walls hugging up against him, encouraging him even more. 

“Do you like that, Y/N?” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath splashing over your neck. “Do you like the feeling of me inside of you like this? Because I fucking love it. Like, you are so tight! I can barely even move, it’s crazy!”

Your hand reached down over your lower abdomen, feeling the slight outline of him over your fingertips. “I-it just sort of hurts..”

“Yeah?” Wade breathed, his free hand reaching up and clasping around your neck again. “Does it hurt when I do this, then?” He tightened his grasp around your throat, watching with sadistic excitement as you struggled to breathe while taking him at the same time. 

“You know what’s really fucked up, Y/N?” the mercenary said, as he slowly began to move in and out of you, gauging your reaction each time. “I was a hitman for a long time. Like, years. Killing all sorts of unsavory types. But you know what my favorite part of the job was? And why I was so fucking good at it?”

“Wh-why?” you moaned out, a blush beginning to creep over your face as he rammed inside of you. You didn’t truly understand at first, but you were starting to enjoy this feeling. 

“Because I liked to watch people suffer,” he replied simply, not taking his eyes off of you. “And still do, now that I think of it. I like to see people writhe in pain. Like when I pierced someone with a sword, literally straight through his stomach. And he just looked at me, screaming. And I just watched him bleed out right in front of me. Most people would be mortified after seeing such a thing but I was.. Happier than I’ve ever been.”

You looked down, watching as his cock thrusted into you with enough vigor to make the bed squeak with every beat. You sighed, moaning his name, begging him to slow down even just for a second, but he just kept going without so much as a second thought. 

“Or this other time,” Wade continued. “When I held a gun up to some guy’s head. And I was right about to pull the trigger. And he just looked up at me, begging for me not to. How he has a wife and kids, and a whole life ahead of him and blah blah blah. In that moment I felt like I had so much.. power. It was the most alive I’ve ever been.”

You were beginning to see stars at this point, gasping as he pushed so deep into you that you were scared you were going to break open.

 

“But you know who my favorite of all my victims is?” he asked, his hand releasing your neck and gliding playfully over your cleavage, teasing your hardened nipples with his fingertips. 

“Who?” you looked over at him, locking eyes with him for the first time. 

He gently lifted up your leg so he could access you even more. 

“You,” he said while cumming inside of you. “Watching you practically beg me not to fuck you, and me doing it anyway. You crying into your little pillow. The life in your eyes slowly melting away when I was choking you.. everything about you, really. It just makes me so fucking turned on.”

“Pl-please don’t finish inside me,” you breathed, watching helplessly as his cream dripped generously out of you after he pulled out, his cum gushing out like a faucet. You felt your eyes roll into the back of your head and your vision cloud over. 

“Well, that was a blast!” Wade said, chuckling to himself at his own awful joke, zipping his fly back up. He leaned over you, slapping you gently on your cheek. “And you did so good, too.”

Before he left your room, he made sure to leave a mark that he was here. Unsheathing one of his katanas, he leaned over your bed, and created what he liked to call a masterpiece into your bedpost. 

“Y/N.. and Deadpool!” he murmured, carefully carving yours and his initials inside a heart into the wood. He also made sure to draw his signature masked face right below. “Aaand all done! So you can cherish this moment forever.”

Without another word, Wade crawled out of your window and disappeared into the night, leaving you in a sticky, dripping mess.

[personal-person1]

gaslight district yap session incoming

been turning over in my mind the fact that breadhead was an accident, and ken would've clearly known he was alive to some extent, but would he have figured sentient? bonus question, would he have Cared right off the bat?

totaling all the ingredients from the recipe, breadhead was born as the 140kg giant we saw in the pilot. that's a LOT of scarab spent on bread meant to be served, ken wouldn't pivot just cause its got eyes and it can complain (afterall, his menu is almost exclusively litterbug dishes)

what im thinking - when ken realized he has the mark of the black hand, he saw profit to be made. that money didn't go to waste afterall, cause they could just chop him up periodically to get fresh bread! and breadhead, imprinted on ken like a baby duckling because he created him, loyal to a fault, and mentally the age of a toddler, wouldn't have even needed chains to stay at the butcher shop - cause if you train somebody to just take the abuse from a young age, they won't even consider it an option to fight back (personal experience and projecting on this part)

when breadhead's language capabilities develop enough to verbally complain, to let him ask questions about WHY this is his life, ken... starts to feel conflicted. with how obedient this golem was until this point, he figured it wasn't intelligent life. but he is. breadhead is very much a person, and young and naive at the time.

now, the guilt comes crashing down on ken too hard to let him ignore it anymore. he stops chopping off pieces altogether, suddenly starts being Nice and treating breadhead like a family member, trying to karmically atone for all the suffering he caused - because under that facade of a careless butcher is a man that cares very, very much, and can't ignore a child's cries

(tying into the fact he DEFINITELY didn't bring mel into the district intending to raise her. he most certainly brought her home fully intending to kill her... but she was so small, and so cold, and so innocent, that he couldn't bring himself to do it. ken has a huge soft spot for kids)

this all comes to me from the fact that ken is TOO nice to breadhead in the car, the kind of sticky sickly sweet that only ever appears out of guilt, as atonement. "you've been nothing but good to me" unspoken, i haven't been good to you. unspoken, i don't deserve how good you've been because im a monster, and im sorry i ruined you too.

unspoken, i'm so sorry. forever unspoken

messy doodles on the topic, ok that's all!