#from now i'll just. i'll take a nap. i need a nap

[cheesecake-44]

5 times you asked ghost to dance + the 1 time he hoped to dance with you

1. Soap and gaz seemed to stumble over each other as they attempted to slow dance.

Farah and Alex's wedding was only a few days away they made the best mistake they could an made the 141 the majority of the wedding party.

Cut to now anyone who needs lessons on dancing are getting it. Price is learning from farah how to do a basic waltz, he isn't doing half bad for someone who talked down on their ability to dance.

Soap and gaz remain a train wreck, soap claims he knows how to dance, but from the way him and gaz are going you would think they didn't know how to walk.

Witch leaves you and ghost standing on the side. You offer out your hand and stare at ghost for a second expectantly.

"Can I have this dance lieutenant?"

"No." His tone firm.

"What? But you said you knew how to dance, how am I supposed to learn?"

He points his hand to where gaz and soap currently look like there now trying to trip one and other out of frustration.

Your face drops a little and you swear you can see a sick grin hidden under that mask.

"Aw come on just one dance with me, don't condemn me to that!" After continuing to watch gaz and soap your almost willing to beg.

"Tuff luck, just because I know how to dance doesn't make me a dancer."

The song that was play finishes and soap tags you in to dance with gaz. The whole time you dance ghosts watchs sadistic.

2.the day of the wedding goes off without a hitch. Farah and Alex couldn't be happier.

The reception starts with the happy couple dancing together while the crowd watchs aws and oos all around.

When there done everyone else begins chatting, dancing, drinking and eating.

Laswell and her wife hit the dance floor together, price and gaz seem to be in deep conversation and soap talking to one of the brides maids.

You look around trying to spot ghost amidst the crowd. You swing back around only for your face to hit someone's chest.

"Oh there you are, I was looking for you."

"You found me." From ghost that's almost playful.

It's still stange to see him without the mask despite already see his face before. He had a strict no picture rule though, phones weren't allowed at the wedding anyway so it wasn't really a problem.

A grin crawls its was up your face as you offer your hand out.

"Fancy a dance?" You asked playfully batting your lashes.

"Hard pass." To anyone watching that would look like a rough rejection. But you knew he said that with affection.

"I'll get that dance from you one day ghost!"

He scoffed with a slight smile

"That'll be the day."

3.the team had done some heavy work today. You all had successfully taken out 2 of makarovs taskforces. Everyone was beaten down and tired but one thing was agreed on, drinks were in order.

The bar was within walking distance of the base so people trickled in as they were ready.

You got in late having taken a nap after the mission. Almost everyone was there piled in to three booths in the corner of the crowd bar.

You pulled up a chair and sat next to price listening to the person talking. The conversation ranged from family to love to embarrassing mission story's.

It's a quarter past one when you spot ghost diping out in to the alley. You decide to fallow him out for a smoke.

You poke your head out the door and see him lighting up a smoke, he gives a nod to you.

You take out your own smoke and lighter but the lighter doesn't want to cooperate.

Before you can swear he pushes the end of his cigarette to yours to light it up. You mumble out a thank you.

You both begin to chat about how the day went as you finish your cigarettes.

The var behind you is loud but over you begin to faintly hear music.

A little part of you giggles know what your about to do. You stomp out the rest of your smoke and turn to ghost with a grin.

He looks confused for a brief moment before he realizes your hand is reached out. He groans and rolls his eyes amused.

"Can I have this dance?"

"Negative."

You put your hands over your chest and make an exaggerated groan.

"Your killing me lieutenant."

If and eye roll were a human it would be ghost.

4.it was a retirement party for a commanding officer. Dress uniforms were a requirement. Witch to just ment you would get to see a certain handsome face.

Everyone was sat according to rank witch ment you would really get to see his face only the back of his his head for Noe.

The metal ceremony was first it was long and boring to watch, next was speechs all long and convoluted. Finally it was time for national anthems and the band.

As the band played a funny little thought went in to your head. Before your properly thought it through you were already leaned in to ghost ear in front of you.

"Can I have this dance?" You whispered quietly so only he would hear.

Ghost let out a snort witch quickly was played off as a cough. It was the first time you has ever seen him lose his composure.

You leaned back satisfied with what you did. Revenge realized for him not teaching you to dance.

Soap shot you a confused look, wheels turning in his head to try and figure out what you said. But you just shook your head at him.

5. You and ghost had officially got together a few months ago. Things had been going smoothly, knock on wood no fights so far.

Soap had invited the two of you to a BBQ at his family house and you both agreed to go. Simon took a big of convincing but, he came around after he had been told he could wear the balaclava.

You arrived fashionably late with simon in toe. The place was nicely decorated fairy lights hung from the canopy, picnic tables covered with red table cloth.

People were spread around you both separated from each other to go mingle.

As you were listening to soaps sister talk about work you heard a guitar start from behind you you swiveled your head sound to see soaps dad play and his mom singing.

You politely excused your self from the group. Walking away like a man on a mission.

You walked up to ghost who was sitting on a bench now looking up at you. Before you could reach your hand out his shot out to grab it.

"Not happening."

"I haven't said anything yet."

"Didn't need to."

"Can i-"

"No."

You scrunch up your face in annoyment.

"At least let me-"

"Nope."

By the time you were done going back and forth soap called out that BBQ was ready.

1. The ceremony was small only family and close friends. Gaz and Farah were your side if the wedding party and price and soap were Simon's side.

You both couldn't be happier saying I do.

After you kissed gaz and soap popped confetti and cheers erupted all around.

After that everyone headed to the bar that had been rented out for the evening.

The bar was the same as you remembered it small ding little place but it was all perfect to you.

Someone decided to play some music on the jukebox in the corner.

You look at simon before you could do what you planned to do. A hand shoots out to you.

"Can I have this dance?" Your smile couldn't be wider.

"No." Shock covers his face for a second before he realizes your hand is in his already tugging him to ward the middle of the room.

As you come together to dance you lean in.

"I told you I would get this dance from you one day."

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Lmk what you guys think and if you want more content like this I live off engagement

This was not proofread so I'm sorry about all the spelling and grammar mistakes

[nikbrrr]

Surrounded by Shadows

Chapter Three

Summary: Even after months of working with the 141, you feel wrong, out of place. So when Laswell sends you to Las Almas alongside Ghost and Soap, your already fragile loyalty gets tested. And what to make of Commander Phillip Graves, you are unsure.

Gender neutral reader

Chapter Two

︻デ══━一.・。.・゜✭・.・

Graves had been right about the nap. You remembered nothing of the drive back to base with him, but you felt much less hazy than you had in that desert. If he hadn't woken you up, you would've easily slept through the remaining hours of the night in the passenger seat of the truck.

He was soft with it, awfully so, standing in the frame of the opened passenger door and softly rubbing a hand on your shoulder. "Croc", he whispered with that unusual kind of care, that you couldn't quite place. "C'mon, get up. I'll take you to medical, then you can sleep it off."

Usually you weren't one for talking back, but sparing a glance at your wristwatch made your stomach churn in embarrassment. "It's way past curfew. I can just sleep it off now, Sir. No need to keep anyone up, really." You knew you were bordering on disobeying him, but angering your hosts and making yourself even less likable, putting your team in a bad light, sounded worse than a little headache. Even if said headache was still pulsing behind your eyes and making the hairs on your neck stand at the slightest breeze.

Graves stopped a few feet ahead of where you stood, having already assumed you would follow him anyways. He directed that kind of respect and it felt wrong to deny him. "Are you questioning my orders, soldier?" The way he spoke made you immediately regret what you said, your whole body tensing up. You'd had this little thing, that mutual respect and now you ruined it, again.

For a long moment, Graves watched you squirm under his analytic gaze, before breaking into a smirk. "Relax Corporal, I'm kidding." With a smooth stride he was by your side, grabbing your plate carrier and firmly pushing you along. "I need you in best shape, this is a high risk mission", he let go when you followed on your own accord, shoulders still tense. "Besides, some of my Shadows are still up. gave them a heads up about our lil' situation."

You didn't question him again after that, his reasoning made sense after all. An injured fighter was less useful than a healthy one, it was about functionality, not care. Maybe if you kept telling yourself that if would be easier to act around him, because you still didn't know your place and his behavior was so different from your team. You'd have liked to believe it was anything more than practical thinking, but your head said something different.

Still, it was a little odd he didn't go to the base medics, instead taking you to his own company's medics. You weren't part of said company after all, even if you'd want to be. It was unlikely Graves would recruit someone like you, that little voice in your head kept on whispering, after all even the 141 only took you, because they owed Laswell a favor.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you almost didn't notice when Graves abruptly stopped in front of you. He threw a smirk over his shoulder, clearly amused. Or maybe making fun of you. "Careful there, Croc." You could only nod, cheeks heating up.

The inside of the room was plain, the walls a dirtied white and the little furniture peeling its paint slightly. A desk, a metal gurney and three chairs. At the desk sat a Shadow Company soldier, his face covered by a black balaclava. You knew that this was different, but you couldn't help but be reminded of Ghost. It made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

If the man realized, he didn't show it to you, instead standing up and nodding to you and Graves as he met you halfway across the room. "Commander. Croc. This won't take long." With equally soft touches as before, Graves herded you towards the gurney, before pushing you to sit.

"This is 3-7, our part time medic. Boys're happy to have some of the old allies back." He introduced while you eyed the medic curiously, if not a little tiredly. Graves brushed his hands against your tac vest, fingers hovering against your American flag patch once more. "Told you we stick together, yeah?" He mused.

"Of course, Sir." You answered, eager for some warm camaraderie, just like the old days. You could almost imagine your old team, and for a moment the ringing in your ears ceased just a tad. It didn't last long, your headache eager to keep itself known, and a heavy sigh left you. 3-7 hovered next to his Commander, his eyes creased and posture just a bit tense. "Graves said you jumped off a cliff?" He sounded outraged, but awfully soft. Worry, you wondered. This man, this complete stranger was worried for you. It felt nice, after such a long time of cold and apathy.

"Into water, my legs are fine. Just a bit shaken, really." You tried to assure him. He shook his head, looking like a disappointed father, and Graves chuckled. His hands travelled from your chest to your side, carefully pulling apart the velcro holding your tac vest in place. "Let's get this off ya'."

While they were working, all you could think off, was how odd it felt to watch two men from such different ranks work so well together. They were like a well oiled machine; 3-7 doing his job, checking you over, while Graves helped you adjust and butted in with small questions. You were so used to being disregarded by your superiors, to being left to the sidelines to fend for your own, that their interactions felt almost wrong.

"You're mostly fine. Bordering on a concussion, and your ears are a little irritated. A little more than average", he gave you a small pat to the shoulder. "I do suggest you take it easy for a while. I'll inform your superior. Now get some rest, your body needs it." 3-7 sternly explained to you, pressing a blister of painkillers into your palm. Quietly, you thanked him, taking the pills from him, before slinking off, his and Graves' muttered conversation fading away.

It was late, or maybe early, and you longed for some rest, even if you had to share a room with your Sergeant, Soap, who you know didn't like you. It was fine though, you could stay professional. At least the Shadows felt like home. No, you shook your head and cursed to yourself, you couldn't think like that. Those were old wounds speaking, things you'd vowed to bury deep inside you and never dig up again. Graves had helped, because Ghost had asked, nothing more, nothing less.

Despite everything you told yourself, you couldn't quite believe yourself. Your thoughts were going a hundred miles an hour and sleep didn't arrive, despite your bone deep exhaustion. You spared a glance at Soap, sleeping soundly since before you had returned. He hadn't even waited to make sure you were fine.

The ache in your chest sharpened and you abruptly sat up, tossing the blanket away. With shaky hands you grabbed your lighter and a pack of cigarettes, before slipping into your dirty boots and out the door. Space was needed desperately right now, from your team, and from your thoughts.

.・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・゜✭・.・

"I very clearly remember that you were told to rest multiple times by now, Croc." With a small flinch you dropped your burned down cigarette to the concrete beneath you. Your whole body ached tiredly as you sharply stood from your crouched position and turned around.

Graves was looking as lively as he had a few hours ago, only a little bit cleaner. His hair was neater, casual clothes replaced by dark fatigues, likely Company issued. Something else that had definitely changed from your last interaction was his expression. He looked a lot more stern now, almost displeased.

"Sorry, Sir." You stood straighter, tucked your hands behind your back to appear more put together, and also hide your pack from his judging gaze.

After a tense moment of eyeing you like a hawk, something about the Commander softened and he sighed. It was plain to see you hadn't found any rest. Hell, you were still in your green cargo pants and combat shirt, smudged with dirt and blood, not having found the energy to shower and change. "At ease."

With a small sigh he sat next to you, facing the same direction you had. The sun was barely starting to rise, giving the cloudless sky a triumphant orange, red and purple shine on one side, while stars still shone on the other. The base would wake up soon, go back to bustling like a beehive. But for now, you could share this little moment of peace with him.

"Sit down, damn it." He pulled on your belt, making you sink to sit next to him obediently. You kept your gaze firmly ahead, staring at the colorful scene playing out in front of you, while he stared at your face. That unreadable, or maybe it was worried after all, expression was back on his face. You could see it in your peripheral vision. "They don't make it easy for ya, do they?"

That did get you to look at him. "What?" It tumbled from your mouth faster than you could precess, followed by an embarrassed laugh. Graves shrugged and tilted his head. "Ah, so you can do casual."

The both of you were quiet for just a moment. "You're a good soldier Croc, don't let them make you believe otherwise." He huffed and plucked your cigarettes and lighter from your hands, to light one up for himself. "Think it bothers 'em, that you'e different, I mean. Not a brit for sure. And you know what needs to be done and said, and what doesn't. I think it throws them off, they're so tightly knit, aside from you." Was that condescension in his voice?

Your cheeks were starting to heat once more, the heavy feeling in your chest settled just a little. A warmth was there, just shortly, but still. "Thanks...that means a lot."

Graves smiled, taking a drag, before settling a heavy hand between your shoulder blades. It felt grounding in a way you hadn't felt in forever. "'Course." With a heavy sigh he stood up, turning back towards the main building where lights began to glow, as if the base itself was waking.

"Stick with me, there's a place for you here. Shadows would be happy to have you, if that loan contract ever stops doing it for you. Then you can tell me how you got that callsign." He didn't give you time to gather your thoughts, already walking off before you could recover from the shock. He'd offered you kind words, a contract, a place to finally belong again; all like it wasn't special to you.

"Clean up and get yourself sorted. I'll see you at the briefing." And with that he was gone, leaving you and your swirling emotions to yourself.

.・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・゜✭・.・

[jammatown919]

Ice Cream

A/N: This one honestly barely follows the prompt but I put so much time into it that it's going up anyway.

Yaz's pregnancy hits an unforeseen rough patch. Sammy is stressed.

Sammy had thought she was prepared for the challenges of having a pregnant wife.

Ever since they'd started talking about IVF, and especially since they'd decided Yaz would carry the first of hopefully at least two children, she'd been readying herself. All the pregnancy books and articles she could find. Late-night chats with Yaz's mother about her experiences with pregnancy and what Sammy might have to help out with. Some frankly ridiculous Google searches about increasingly unlikely scenarios just to make sure she had all her bases covered.

By the time they were successful, Sammy was confident that she could handle anything.

When Yaz had morning sickness, she stuck by her, rubbed her back, and sang little songs to get her mind off it. When Yaz had a weird craving, she went out to the store no matter the hour to get her what she wanted, even if Yaz sometimes got self-conscious about "inconveniencing" her. When Yaz was grumpy or weepy from her mood swings, Sammy took nothing personally and readily played the game of appeasing her pouting wife.

What she hadn't been prepared for was for Yaz, at four months pregnant, to just stop eating. Almost entirely.

It started small one morning, when Yaz lumbered into the kitchen while Sammy was making breakfast.

"Good morning, beautiful," Sammy called from the over by stove, where she was busy scrambling a few eggs. "You hungry?"

Yaz peered over her shoulder into the pan, considering, then wrinkled her nose.

"No thanks," she said, walking over to the cabinet to grab her pre-natal vitamins instead.

"Doesn't have to be eggs," Sammy replied, unfazed. Food aversions were fairly common with pregnancy, and Yaz had definitely been a little pickier than usual lately. "What are you in the mood for?"

"I don't want anything." Yaz popped the vitamin into her mouth, then grimaced before swallowing as if it were bitter.

Sammy's brow furrowed at that. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No," Yaz said, placing the vitamin container back in the cabinet. "I think that's mostly done now. I hope so, anyway."

"Are you craving something?" For a minute, Sammy thought she'd cracked it. Yaz was predictably at her pickiest when a craving struck. Often, nothing else would do.

"No," Yaz repeated. She rustled around in the cabinet for another moment, possibly looking for the tea she drank every morning, then seemed to change her mind and give up suddenly.

"Are you sure?" Sammy asked, because Yaz had been known to lie about such things. If she thought it was too early or too late or too out of the way, she sometimes pretended she didn't want anything so Sammy wouldn't feel 'obligated' to go and get it. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Like she wasn't absolutely delighted to make her wife happy.

"I'm sure."

"C'mon," Sammy insisted. "What is it? I don't mind taking a drive."

"Nothing." Yaz was a little firmer now, her tone edging on irate. A little grouchy this morning, it seemed. "I'm just not in the mood to eat right now. I'll have something later."

In the interest of not pissing off her pregnant wife, Sammy conceded and went back to her eggs.

After breakfast, she spent much of the day outside. Tending the garden, feeding the chickens plant scraps and pests she'd found, and spending some quality time with the cows and Ankylosauruses all before lunch.

By the time she came back in for something to eat, Yaz was napping on the couch in the living room, and Sammy simply didn't have the heart to wake her. She had a quick sandwich, left an extra one for Yaz, and headed back out to prepare the horses for the beginner riding lesson they were scheduled to give today.

Yaz made dinner that night. A low-effort salad with whatever vegetables needed to be used and, for protein, some roasted chickpeas thrown on top. The lemon sumac dressing implied the intention may have been fattoush, though it was missing its signature fried scraps of pita. Maybe Yaz had been too tired for that.

Regardless, Sammy enjoyed it. But Yaz only picked at hers, nibbling a bit of greens and cucumber before deciding she was done.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Sammy asked.

"Yeah," Yaz replied, setting down her fork. "I'm just not really into this right now."

Sammy looked over her face, searching for hints. She didn't look particularly uncomfortable as she often did when she was nauseous, and her bouts of sickness didn't tend to last the full day. Maybe pickiness, but Sammy thought that if there were a craving to blame, Yaz would have said something by now.

"There's nothing else you want?"

Yaz shook her head.

"Did you eat the sandwich I left you at lunchtime?"

"I... had a protein shake." Yaz glanced away sheepishly.

"Yaz, that's not a meal!" Sammy tried to keep her tone gentle, but she couldn't stop her growing concern from leaking into it.

"I don't know what to tell you," Yaz shot back. "I'm just not hungry."

"That can't be true," Sammy insisted. "You've barely eaten all day."

Yaz kept her eyes on her lap, biting her lip in frustration. Sammy let out a soft sigh and reached for her hand across the table.

"I know I can't force you, and I don't want to," she murmured, "but skipping meals ain't good for you. Especially while you're pregnant. Please, just try a few more bites. For me?"

Yaz sighed and slowly nodded. She picked up her fork and went back to picking at her meal, mostly just eating the chickpeas out of it. Sammy didn't try to push her any further for fear of causing her to stop altogether.

Even so, she didn't get very far. A few minutes later, she laid down her fork again.

"That's all I can eat right now," she said, and Sammy accepted it.

They cleaned up the table and moved to the living room shortly after for some tv and cuddle time before bed. Unable to help herself, Sammy offered Yaz a few of her favorite snacks and desserts, but it was no use. She simply had no appetite.

"Alright," Sammy relented at last as the two retired upstairs for the evening. "I guess it was just an off day. I'm sure you'll be wolfing down your breakfast tomorrow."

God, she hoped so.

The next day, she waited until Yaz was awake to start making breakfast so she could prepare whatever her wife wanted. She didn't care what the request was, whether it meant she had to drive somewhere and buy it or spend hours preparing it herself. She just wanted Yaz to eat.

Unfortunately, her hopes were quickly dashed when Yaz came into the kitchen for her vitamins.

"Good morning," Sammy said cheerfully. "What do you want to eat?"

"Still not really hungry," Yaz replied, shaking two vitamins into her hand and choking them down even though she'd never had a problem with them until yesterday.

Sammy quickly deflated. This wasn't normal, was it?

"C'mon, baby," she pleaded. "Anything you want. We can go out to eat. Or I can make you apple fritters."

"I appreciate it, but I don't think I could eat them." Yaz returned the vitamin bottle to the cabinet, once again forgoing her morning tea.

Definitely not normal. Yaz loved Sammy's apple fritters, so much so that she'd requested them for breakfast on her birthday every year for the past five. This was the first time Sammy had ever heard her refuse them.

"You have to eat something." She hated to sound forceful, but with Yaz now on twenty-four hours with a protein shake and a few nibbles of salad, she had to push harder. "Please, it can be small, just eat something. Some yogurt?"

Yaz wrinkled her nose slightly in disgust. But why? She loved yogurt.

"Yaz, what's going on?" Sammy asked desperately.

"I don't know," Yaz said. "I'm just not in the mood for anything."

"You need something in your stomach," Sammy insisted. "For you and for the baby. I'd settle for a piece of fruit for now."

Yaz let out a long, slow sigh, like she would rather do literally anything else. But she couldn't argue. She knew as well as Sammy did that skipping four meals in a row wasn't healthy for a normal person, much less in the middle of a pregnancy.

"Do we still have strawberries?" she asked in a small, reluctant voice.

"Absolutely." Sammy rushed to the fridge to retrieve them, and in an effort to get a few more calories into Yaz, she added, "you want anything with them? Whipped cream? Nutella?"

"Just plain," Yaz replied. Baby steps, Sammy supposed.

She placed two handfuls of the bright red berries into a cute floral bowl and set them down in front of Yaz on the kitchen island. Yaz sat down on a stool and examined them, then reached for the bowl and carefully selected one. In the moment following her biting into it, Sammy's heart experience a brief rollercoaster ride from relief right back down into a pit of dread. Yaz's face had twisted into a grimace, and she just barely managed to swallow the half that was in her mouth before quickly abandoning the rest.

"They're sour," she said mournfully.

"I mean, they're not exactly in season," Sammy tried. Perfect. She had a pregnant wife refusing all available food and craving specifically in season strawberries in the middle of October.

"No, I mean they're really sour," Yaz insisted. "It's weird. They might have gone bad."

Curious, Sammy grabbed one and took a small bite. It tasted fine to her. Not the best strawberry she'd ever had, but just kind of tart at worst. It was definitely still good to eat.

"Maybe the one you ate was just weird?" she guessed, offering hers instead. Yaz sighed and gave it a try, then promptly spat it back out. "Okay, maybe your taste buds are off? I think I read about that before you got pregnant."

"Maybe," Yaz agreed, "but the salad tasted normal last night. I just really didn't want it."

"Let's try something bland," Sammy suggested. "Can I make you some toast?"

Yaz let out a long, slow sigh and folded her arms on the countertop, resting her forehead on top of them. 

"I guess," she mumbled. "I kind of want to go back to sleep."

Sammy began to chew gently on her lip. No appetite and no energy was not a combination she liked for her pregnant wife. 

"We can take a nap after breakfast," she offered. Yaz hummed softly in agreement. 

Sammy quickly set about toasting some bread; specifically, two slices of the sourdough loaf Yaz had asked her to make a few days ago because it was her favorite. She thought about pushing for a topping again, but she wasn't confident enough that Yaz would even eat the bread, much less any jam or butter. Best to keep things simple for now. 

Still, she tried to plate it up nicely, laying the slices neatly beside each other on a plate that she placed in front of Yaz. 

Yaz sat up, though very sluggishly, and took a deep breath as if preparing herself for an unpleasant task. She picked up one piece of toast, ripped it in half, and took a swift, huge bite out of the center. Sammy had never known her to avoid the crust, but as long as she was eating, she could do it however she wanted. 

"How's that?" Sammy asked hopefully. 

Yaz chewed for nearly a minute before swallowing, then said, "tastes fine, I guess."

"Will you eat it?" Sammy leaned forward slightly, searching Yaz's face for signs that she was about to reject another meal. 

"I'll try," Yaz sighed, and Sammy supposed that was the best she could ask for. 

She absently picked at the strawberries as she watched Yaz take smaller and smaller bites of the toast, determined at first but gradually slowing down. Chewing for longer. Visibly working up the will to swallow. All in all, she got through most of one slice, minus the crust. Sammy decided to let her off the hook for the moment. 

"Still want that nap?" she asked gently. 

"Please."

Sammy followed her upstairs and settled into bed beside her. Because the animals had already gotten breakfast and, frankly, the garden was not her priority right now, she wanted to take this time to do some more research. She was sure she'd read at some point about pregnancy having the potential to affect taste buds and appetite; maybe she could find some way to help. 

She sat in bed with her laptop, one hand scrolling through search results while the other gently rubbed Yaz's back. But before she could get much of anywhere, her phone began to buzz on the nightstand. 

Sighing, she reached for it and turned it over. Brooklynn. So as not to wake Yaz, who had only just managed to fall asleep, Sammy got up and stepped into the hallway to take the call. 

"Hey!" Brooklynn's cheerful voice came through the phone. 

"Hi, B," Sammy replied, allowing herself a little smile. 

"I just wanted to check up on my favorite couple," Brooklynn continued. "How's everything going? How's Yaz? Any new ultrasound pictures?"

"Not yet. And... to be honest, we've been better."

Brooklynn's light tone suddenly became more serious. "What's wrong?"

"It's Yaz," Sammy said, glancing back at the bedroom where her wife lay sleeping. "She won't eat. I don't know what's going on with her. She says she's not sick, but she could barely choke down toast this morning. And that was after refusing just about everything else."

"Has it been going on for long?"

"About a day now. Started yesterday, in the morning." Sammy sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I just don't know what to do. I don't think this is normal."

"I mean, pregnancy can do some pretty weird things," Brooklynn mused. "Maybe it's a phase? Or a second trimester thing?"

"She can't not eat for her entire second trimester." Just the thought of it made Sammy want to call a doctor right then and there and demand answers. "I'm looking into it now. If I can't figure something out, I might have to call someone. Maybe her OB/GYN would know."

"If it lasts much longer, definitely," Brooklynn said. "But if it's only been a day, maybe you just need to give it some time."

"That's easy to say when you're not watching her," Sammy shot back. "I know she's hungry, but it's like everything's disgusting to her."

"Have you tried any high-value food?" Brooklynn asked. 

"Come again?"

"Like, her favorites, or things she would consider special treats," Brooklynn went on. "Things she'd be more interested in. Like when a dog gets sick and you get them fancy wet food for a while."

"Brooklynn, my wife is not a dog!" Sammy exclaimed. "And besides, I offered her apple fritters this morning and she wouldn't take them."

"Well, what's her favorite food? What would she pick over anything else?"

"Her mom's kafta kebabs," Sammy replied instantly. "She doesn't like the vegetarian version, so she doesn't have them here too often. You think I should make it for her?"

At this point, Sammy didn't even care if she had to prepare meat. While she refused to generally, and Yaz was more than willing to eat meatless meals or prepare her own, desperate times called for desperate measures. If it got her starved wife to eat something, Sammy could handle being grossed out for a while. 

"It might not be a bad idea," Brooklynn said. "It could help bring her appetite back."

Despite her initial reaction, Sammy had to admit she could see the sense in it. Besides, what could it hurt?

"I'll call you back, B. I need to call my mother-in-law."

------

Though Sammy didn't disclose the entire situation for fear of triggering some kind of motherly panic, Mrs. Fadoula was happy to help Sammy write down her kafta recipe after hearing her daughter had been craving it. After that, it was just a quick run to store after leaving a protein shake on the nightstand with a note for Yaz to please drink it if she could. 

She didn't wait to start cooking once she got home. While it was still a bit early for lunch, Sammy didn't want to take any more time than necessary getting something substantial into Yaz's stomach. Prepping the meat was unpleasant, but she powered through, because having to touch a bit of lamb and beef would be worth every moment if Yaz ended the day full.  

Yaz had made her way back downstairs by the time the meal was done, drawn in by a smell that didn't typically exist within these walls. 

"Are you... making kafta?" she asked tentatively. Though it may have been wishful thinking, Sammy thought she saw a bit of hope in her eyes. 

"Yep!" she replied, gently pulling a finished kebab off the small counter-top grill they sometimes used for barbecue food in bad weather. "Made it into kebabs and grilled 'em up. Just how your mom does it."

"Just like she makes?" Yaz echoed. 

"Real meat and everything," Sammy confirmed. 

"Sammy, you didn't have to do that!" Yaz's eyes were wide, not with excitement for this childhood favorite, but with something like guilt. "You hate cooking meat."

"I don't care." Removing the last kebab from the miniature grill, which would need a good scrubbing to ensure no traces of meat remained, Sammy crossed the kitchen and put both hands on Yaz's shoulders. "You've barely touched anything else. If this is something you can eat, then it's worth it to me. And don't you go feeling bad about it either."

"I do feel bad," Yaz said. "I'm sorry for freaking you out. I should've tried harder to eat more earlier."

"None of that, now," Sammy murmured softly. "It's not your fault. It's gotta be hormones or stress or something."

"You still shouldn't have to-"

"In sickness and health, remember?" Sammy interrupted. "And I promised to do everything I could to make you comfortable if you got pregnant. This is what I signed up for. Now, come on. Your food's getting cold."

She gently guided Yaz over to the kitchen island, sat her down on a stool, and set a plate down in front of her. Yaz stared down at it, a little hesitant, but not nearly as much as she'd been with other things in the past twenty-four hours. While Sammy pretended to be busy with cleaning up so as not to make her feel crowded or on display, she picked up a kebab and gently bit off a chunk of meat. 

When she went in for another bite, Sammy thought they'd won. Found the answer. Something she could eat and sustain herself on until this passed. 

Then Yaz burst into tears. 

"Yaz?!" Sammy rushed over, hands already hovering, ready to hold and soothe. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Is it bad?"

Yaz shook her head with trembling lips and huge, watery eyes. 

"It's fine," she said, her voice high and thin. "You made it so well and I'm being such a problem."

"Don't say that," Sammy murmured. 

"You cooked meat for me and I still can't eat it," Yaz keened. "I know this is bad for the baby, but I just can't."

"It's okay-"

"They're not even born yet and I'm already a bad mom." Yaz let out a small sob and buried her face in her hands. "And I'm being difficult and a bad wife and-"

"That's not true." Samm gently grasped Yaz's wrists and slow uncovered her red, blotchy face. "I hope to God that's the hormones talking, because if you think for a second that you're either of those things, then I'm the one who's been a bad wife."

Yaz blinked at her, trying to hold back her little sobs and hiccups. The tired, hopeless look on her face may as well have pulled Sammy's heart clean in half. 

"You're not being difficult," Sammy told her softly. "You're struggling."

"I'm still sorry," Yaz said, small and aching. 

"I know." Sammy leaned forward to press their foreheads together. "It's okay. We'll get through this together. I'm gonna call the doctor in the morning. We'll get it figured out."

"I love you," Yaz murmured. 

"I love you too." Sammy gave her a gentle kiss. "Just eat what you can. I'll pack up what you can't."

Yaz nodded reluctantly, her eyes still huge and watery. Sammy sat down beside her, holding her hand as she tried her best to nibble her way through just one kebab. It took her nearly half an hour, but she managed it. 

"You're doing so good." Sammy squeezed her hand encouragingly. "Can you stomach any more?"

"I don't think so," Yaz said. "Forcing it is kind of making me nauseous."

"Okay." Though Sammy would have very much liked to get some more food into her, getting her sick wouldn't do them any good either. "You did good. We'll save the rest for later."

"I drank the protein shake you left me," Yaz added, as if trying to soften the blow despite already being off the hook. 

"Good." Sammy took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and set about packing up the rest of the food for when Yaz felt more up to it. "Are you having any trouble getting those down?"

"Not as much," Yaz replied. "It's easier when it's a drink."

Okay, that was something. Maybe they could try smoothies next. 

"I think I'm gonna go lay down," Yaz said, sliding herself off the stool. "Thank you for trying."

"Of course." Sammy gave her one last kiss for good measure. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" 

Yaz gave her an absent nod and turned away, leaving Sammy alone in the kitchen. 

------

Things hadn't improved much by the next day. 

Yaz barely touched her dinner that night, and only got through about half of the smoothie Sammy made for her in the morning. The doctor's office had received a call bright and early, but despite the clear urgency Sammy tried to communicate, no one could see Yaz for a few days. Until then, she was on her own, watching her wife begin to waste away. 

Though they hadn't checked the scale, Sammy was sure Yaz had lost weight. She had no energy, no focus, and still no interest in food. 

She really did try, for the baby if nothing else, but she often couldn't manage more than a few bites. Another day passed, and Sammy was ready to take Yaz to the damn hospital just to get this figured out before she collapsed.

She would have, too, if Yaz hadn't managed to finish a full breakfast that morning. Not quickly, and not enthusiastically, but it was food in her stomach. Eggs and an apple; not much, but something. She went on to get through half of her lunch, and, with significant coaxing and praise, the majority of her dinner. 

"It seems like you're feeling better today," Sammy ventured as Yaz placed her fork down. 

"I think my body finally realized what's going to happen if it doesn't let me eat," Yaz replied flatly. "I still don't really have an appetite, but it's easier." 

"Progress is progress," Sammy offered, though there was still a tightness in her chest that refused to relent. A better day wasn't a problem fixed, and if Yaz still had no appetite, she might go right back to not eating once she staved off malnutrition for another day. 

"When can the doctor see me?" Yaz asked. She laid a hand on her bump, just starting to really show at four months. 

"Day after tomorrow." Not soon enough. 

Yaz breathed deeply, her face tight. "I'm just so scared something's wrong with the baby."

Neither of them had said it out loud until now, but it had been on Sammy's mind too. Months ago, that positive result had been a miracle, but if it wasn't developing properly, or if it was hurting Yaz... 

There had to be a fix. 

"If there is, we'll take care of it," Sammy promised. "We'll do everything there is to do. That baby's gonna be safe and happy in your arms five months from now."

Yaz's eyes shone with uncertainty and unshed tears, but it seemed to help regardless. 

"Okay."

They went upstairs to bed not long after that, Yaz exhausted from the days of hardly eating and Sammy from trying to balance the ranch work with their current situation. Slotted together, Sammy's hands resting protectively on Yaz's bump, they laid there in silence until they drifted off. 

Then, some time later, Sammy's eye's opened once more for a reason she didn't immediately understand. She flexed her fingers, checking that she still had hold of what was most precious to her, only to find her arms empty. Yaz wasn't in bed. 

On any other night, Sammy probably would have assumed she was in the bathroom, rolled over, and gone back to sleep. But with the week they'd been having, she couldn't help the panic that set in immediately. She sat up, looked around frantically, and hauled herself out of bed to search. 

Passing through the hallway, there was no light on in the bathroom. Sammy continued downstairs, finding the hall mostly dark as well, but light from the kitchen poured across one stretch. She pushed through the saloon doors, a question on her tongue, and froze. 

Yaz was standing at the counter, hunched over a bowl of ice cream, with peanut butter and what seemed to be chopped green peppers on top. She ate quickly. Ravenously. Like she was enjoying it. 

"Yaz?" Sammy stepped forward, relief flooding through her. 

Yaz turned, startled for a moment, then relaxed. 

"Hey," she said. "Sorry if I woke you. I just got this really strong craving all of a sudden."

"You're getting cravings again?" A smile crept across Sammy's face, the knot in her chest finally beginning to loosen. 

Yaz glanced between her and the bowl on the counter, as if she hadn't quiet realized. "Yeah... I guess so. I guess I really was getting better."

"So... your appetite's back?" Sammy dared to ask. 

"I really hope so." Yaz laid a gentle hand on her bump, her eyes still heavy. "Thinking about breakfast doesn't make me want to throw up, so fingers crossed." 

"Is there something you want for breakfast?"

"I was thinking breakfast sandwiches," Yaz replied. "I saw we still have some chickpea patties in the freezer. They'd probably be good with some cheese and hot sauce. Maybe eggs."

Unable to hold herself back anymore, Sammy rushed forward to hug Yaz, her eyes watering with relief as she began to pepper her wife's face with tiny kisses. Thank God it was over. Thank everything it was over. 

Yaz put up with her for about a minute, then wriggled free so she could keep eating. 

"We should keep the doctor's appointment," she said. "Just in case. I know pregnancy can do some weird things to your appetite, but that was... way too extreme. That can't keep happening."

"Definitely," Sammy agreed. She still wanted answers herself. At the very least, she wanted to make sure Yaz and the baby would be okay after a week of scarcely eating. "But for right now, you're doing better. Let's just focus on that and get as much food into you as we can."

"Way ahead of you," Yaz replied, and shoved another spoonful into her mouth. 

Sammy stood there with her and watched her eat, for once less to make sure she finished and more just to be with her. To appreciate this moment that bordered on normal. 

When Yaz was finished and had placed her bowl in the sink, Sammy put an arm around her as they began to make their way back upstairs. 

"I'll have breakfast cooking nice and early," she promised softly as they crawled into bed. 

"I have a feeling we'll both appreciate that." Yaz gently guided Sammy's hand to her bump and held it there. "The baby definitely wants eggs on those sandwiches."

Sammy grinned at her. "Well, I guess if the baby wants it, we'll see what we can do."

She was about to take her hand back when a strange sensation caught her attention. It was barely there, but Yaz had noticed it too, her eyes wide. 

"Was that...?" Sammy asked. 

"The baby's moving," Yaz whispered reverently. 

Sammy kept her hand in place to see if it would happen again. "It's early for that."

"That's good, isn't it?" Yaz sounded unsure. Hopeful. "That means they're okay?"

Honestly, Sammy couldn't be sure, not being a doctor and all. But at the very least, it didn't seem like a bad sign. 

"Feels pretty strong to me," she said, pulling Yaz in close. "I think they're gonna be just fine."

She tucked Yaz's head beneath her chin, one arm locked firmly around her. They relaxed more than they had in days, tangled up with one another and lighter with the hope that things could be uphill from here. 

They would still see the doctor. They would still make sure. Take precautions. But at least for now, it seemed things might be alright after all. 

------

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or buying the writer a coffee!

[jaxtheghostface]

When Kara Isn't as Serious as Her Cousin

(A/N) I know this isn't Scream related, but I randomly had this idea in my head and had to time to write it just for fun.

Pairing: Kara Zor El x Male Supervillain Reader

Notes: This is pretty much a parody from that one scene in BvS

Metropolis: LexCorp

You double check your watch, you had timed this perfectly. You knew that Superman had a cousin with the same powers as hers, and that's when you came up with a plan that would make your older brother finally see you and your worth in your father's company.

That's why you currently have an alien-dog on the helipad of the tower, completely poisoned by kryptonite.

"Alright, my ugly little friend, this is where Supergirl will finally hear your sad little whimpers of anguish." You tell the dog with a unhinged hum that you let out from time to time, casually picking up the dog like it's nothing. "Now it's time for me to have a literal, 'kick the dog' moment."

You glance up, humming...

"Nah, I won't do that." You change your mind with a shake of your head. "Though, I will do this, though."

You hold the dog over the massive ledge below, and drop him.

Then, you step back as if you didn't just commit the most heinous crime against humanity of all time, sitting down with your legs crossed, popping in a jolly rancher, and then pulling your kitchen timer out.

You tap your fingers....

Swoosh!

You see something gliding by at super-fast speed, making your smirk. Then, you watch the undeniable figure and identify of Supergirl fly over the tower, looking directly over you.

"Boy! Do we have problems up here!" You exclaim with an excited tone of voice as you briefly pause to wind up the timer before looking back up at her with an only slightly intimidated look. "The problems of... of evil in the world, hm?" You continue as you then try to stand up while keeping eye contact. "The problems of absolute virtue!"

"I'll take you in without breaking you!" Kara tells you with a seemingly serious voice, only that the 'growling' part is a little too... much. "Which is more than you deserve!"

"The problem of you on top of everything else!" You continue your monologue, your passion only fueled by her angry energy. Kara slowly hovers down towards you, but you don't let that stir you. "You above all! Ah, because that's what-"

"Oh, shit!" Kara abruptly curses as she fails to hover down correctly, like she tripped on.... thin air, causing her to fly forwards and slide across the helipad at an embarrassing speed. "Ow....."

You flinch, whipping your head back to see her now laying on the ground on the other side in such an embarassing way.

"A-A-Are you okay?" You stutteringly ask, not really caring how out of character it sounds for you.

"Yeah, yeah, give me a second...." Kara requests with a wheezing voice. So, you kind of just... stand there as she struggles to get herself up, as if she was interrupted from a nap. "Sorry, keep going. I was really invested by your Riddler speech there."

"Okay..." You quietly respond as you fit your jacket, clearing your throat before getting back into the character. "I was saying that God is subjective depending on our tribe. Because God is tribal, God takes sides." You point towards the air with a bitter smile. "No man in the sky intervened, when me and Lex were little boys, to deliver me from daddy's fists and abominations! I figured out-"

"Oh my gosh! Your dad hit you?" Kara gasps, snapping her hands onto her chest. "That sucks, man. I've never heard of a parent who could be so evil. Guess that's what I get for complaining when my dad would always-"

"Hey!" You cut her off with an offended look. "I'm talking, here!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry...." Kara whispers, looking earnestly guilty that she ruined your moment.

"Anyway, they need to see the fraud you and your family are, with their eyes." You state like it's a passionate fact, pointing at her like she's a curse. "The blood on your-"

"Whoa, whoa! Call me whatever you want, but I'm not a fraud!" Kara interrupts you, incredibly offended. "I once saved an entire village from being flooded with just by frost breath, okay? I'm even better than-"

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"Sorry...." Kara stops again, raising her hands in surrender.

You don't continue right away this time, however, staring Kara down with a daggering, calculating expression. The woman doesn't act too bothered by it. In fact, during the silence, she starts twirling her hair and sheepishly smiling at you, thinking that you're looking at her for a different reason.

"Do you see that light in the sky?" You ask her once you feel like you're good to keep talking now. You walk past her and point towards where she should be staring. "That is where Batman is waiting for you. And the world will finally get to see you fight. There, you will battle him.... to the death."

"You think I'll kill him for you?" Kara questions you with a raised brow.

"Mmmm, yes I do." You state before making a goofy face of a kid who got his hand stuck in the cookie jar. "I think you will fight, fight, fight for that special man in your life."

"Oh, really?" Kara raises a brow, looking surprised by what you're saying. "Well, I mean.... it's true that I think you're really hot, and all, and I don't want to kill the mood, but..... I don't think I can, like, kill a good guy for you."

"What? No." You instantly retort. "No, I'm talking about your cousin."

With that, you whip out all the photos. Kara's eyes widen as she awkwardly stumbles forward. You start dropping the photos one by one, just as the meta-human falls on her ass just because she's probably not sober or something. Then, she slowly picks up one of the photos, showing a captured Clark Kent, covered in red solar lights.

Kara stares down at polaroid, shaking as she grips tighter....

"Oh my gosh! How did you figure all this stuff out!?" Kara looks up at you with a completely different look from what you were expecting. She's impressed and.... excited still? "You figured out his identity and who Batman was?"

"Uh, yeah...." You eventually admit with a slightly more modest expression as her awe and approval of you starts to break down your walls. "I also, um.... let Batman steal some kryptonite I was shipping, so.... when you go fight him, he'll use it on you so he can kill you."

"Oh my gosh, you thought that hard into killing me?" Kara gasps in shock, putting a hand on her heart as if actually touched despite the plan itself. "No one's ever seen me that much before... not even Kal."

"Me neither...." You subconsciously admit as you glance down with a depressed look, before then remembering that you still have the timer. "A-A-Anyway! Can you go try and kill Batman now?"

"You know what? I'll do it for you, but I'll only 'try' okay?" Kara tells you before whipping a pen and pad out of her weather coat that she also brought for some reason. "Here's my secret identity, where I live... and my number." She states before sliding all of that into your breast pocket. Then, gives you a genuinely heart-filled kiss on the cheek. "Call me~"

Then, she flies away. You pull out the paper she gave you, and sees that she literally left exactly what she said she wrote.

You make another hum, more anxious, as you play with it.

"I don't like this plan, anymore...."

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Strange Weather | Nikolai x F!Reader

Crash

Six months after giving birth, she finally tries to have a break

masterpost

tags: estranged husband Nikolai, emotional, age gap

"I shouldn't be long. I just need to get some groceries and not have her screaming the entire time." She laughed to the babysitter, a friend's younger sister.

"I'll take good care of her, I promise." Laura grinned, holding up Dahlia's little hand to wave.

"She should hopefully just sleep. It is nap time but bottles are in the fridge."

"Got it!" She smiled. "Say bye bye mummy. See you soon."

It was hard leaving Dahlia but Laura was good with her. And truthfully she needed a fucking break. Nikolai would come over and take over for a day but any longer than that it would devolve into arguments and her having to kick him out. Six months and they were still no closer to ending or continuing their marriage. Stuck in a standstill for who knows how long. She needed time without Nikolai in the house.

It was a simple grocery store trip. They didn't need much but she'd probably stop for a coffee and maybe get some flowers at the market. Just a short trip.

Nikolai had gotten her a new car after Dahlia was born. She kind of hated it. Big land rover that needed a step to get into it. He said it made him feel better that she was in something roughly the size of a tank.

She did feel safe in it, just wished it was a bit smaller.

Driving in London was always a pain. People too ready to get where they were going to follow any sort of order. Maybe she should have been more careful. It wasn't her fault but it was hard to feel like she wasn't to blame.

Going through an intersection, another car came speeding across, hitting the front passenger end of her car. She remembered her head hitting the window and the airbag going off. A car horn was going off somewhere. Someone was knocking on the window.

"Are you okay?"

"Call an ambulance!"

"Ma'am is there anyone we can call for you?" An EMT asked. She was on a gurney, being wheeled into hospital. Her head ached incredibly, her vision blurry.

"My…my husband."

He'd had her set up her emergency contacts in her phone. Him, being the first and only number.

He was waiting for her in her room after the CT scan. Luckily it was just a concussion and sprained wrist. Nothing major. She'd be good to go the next morning.

"Where's Dahlia? Does Laura know?" She asked, weakly.

"She's okay. I called, I'm paying her triple to stay over night and to tell me if she needs anything. How are you?" He pushed her hair back, away from her face. There was a large bruise across the side.

"My head hurts."

"I'm sure." He pulled his chair up next to her bed and sat down, taking one of her hands and kissing across it.

"You got here quick."

"I had a crash detection system on the car. I was already on my way before I got the call."

"You're stalking me?" She raised an eyebrow. It wasn't that big of a surprise, more so that he'd admit to doing anything unscrupulous.

"Only the car." He chuckled.

"How is the car?"

"Most likely totaled." He shrugged. "I'll get you a new one this week. The man who hit you ran. I'll have to deal with that too."

"Nik…" She gave him a stern look. He shouldn't have run from the accident but he didn't deserve whatever Nikolai was planning in his head. His willingness to succumb to violence made her stomach churn.

"Accidents happen but you don't run after hitting a woman like that. What if Dahlia was with you?"

"She wasn't."

"But what if she was?" He pursed his lips. He was never good at hiding his anger when it came to protecting her and Dahlia.

"We're okay." She reached out and laid her hand over his clenched fist. "I'm okay."

He spent the night with her, watching over as she slept.

"Thank you so much Laura," She hugged the younger woman. "I'm so sorry I wasn't able to call."

"I'm just glad you're okay. Dahlia was good but we went through most of the bottles. She's in her crib right now. I turned the mobile on."

"Thank you again. Nikolai will pay you. I'm going to lie down again."

"Of course, Malishka." Nikolai kissed the unbruised side of her face before pulling out his wallet and counting out notes for Laura. She heard the disbelief from the babysitter and Nik's assurance that it was well earned. He was generous when it came to things like this. He said it kept people loyal. Generosity endeared people to you. When she thought about it, that was how he first got in bed with her.

She laid in bed. Her body still ached from where the seatbelt held her. She'd need to pump before Dahlia got hungry again.

"Nik!" She called. His steps were fast up the stairs.

"What's wrong?" He asked, rushing in.

"Nothing. I…I just need the uhhh breast pump. Dahlia will be hungry again soon and I haven't done it since yesterday." Her breasts already felt tender from the seat belt retracting during the accident. If she waited longer they would start to ache.

"Where is it?"

"Bag on the floor of the closet."

He set it all up, made sure all the pillows were just right to support her back. She never put her bra back on from the hospital so no fumbling with that.

"Do you want me to do it?" He asked.

"Could you?" She asked, tears pricking up at her lash line. He'd hadn't seen her body since before Dahlia. Her stomach was pudgeier and breasts swollen. He grabbed the bottom of her shirt and she flinched.

"You're beautiful." He said, cupping her cheek. "Our baby didn't change that."

He lifted up her shirt and helped her put the pumps on. His hand rested on her bare side, thumb rubbing over a stretch mark. Once he was sure it was working he left her with a kiss on the cheek to go check on Dahlia.

It felt like a second crash - getting hit by all the emotions she'd try to keep at bay. She was exhausted. Not just from the past day, from everything. She covered her mouth to stifle her own cries. She might still have the house and the money and everything else Nikolai had ever given her but she was alone. So terribly alone.

It made her feel like a monster but if she'd known Nikolai wouldn't be around she never would have kept the pregnancy. She loved Dahlia more than herself, she just didn't think she was strong enough for this. If Dahlia had been in the car and gotten hurt, it would have been her fault. What if something happens to her? One fall down the stairs and no one would be here to help Dahlia.

"Are you okay Malishka? Does something hurt?" Nikolai was at her side, Dahlia still in his arms.

"No...I'm just tired." He brushed her hair back and rested a hand on her forehead.

"Do you want to stop pumping? Get some sleep?"

"I need to finish. She needs food."

"There are still bottles. She'll be okay for a couple hours."

"Do you even know how to do it? How to feed her?" She snapped. Anytime he was over for visits she'd feed Dahlia before and after to avoid any fussyness. She didn't want him caring for her in the same way she did. He didn't deserve to. He hadn't earned the right to be a father.

"I can manage."

"It has to be the right temperature and you have to hold her the right way and make sure she burps and doesn't choke and oh my god." She had trouble catching her breath has her anxiety wound its way around her chest and held on tightly. "Can I just have her? Please just give her to me."

"You need to breath."

"Nikolai…give her to me."

He climbed onto the bed beside her, "She's okay. See?"

Dahlia smiled up at her with a happy gurgle.

"I can take care of our daughter." He stroked the back of her head. "You need to rest."

Dahlia was the best thing he'd ever given her. She wanted to be angry, leave him for good, hate him for how he hurt her. How could she hate someone when they looked like the thing she loved most?

"If something happens to me, promise you'll still take care of her."

"What do you mean? Nothing will happen to you." He cupped her cheek and turned her to him.

"But if it does. I need you to promise. Not that you'll have a nanny or send her to some school. That'll you'll be there. You won't leave her."

"I will. I promise you. I won't leave either of you." He kissed her temple. "Hold her for a moment while I take the pumps off. Then you can rest."

"Okay." She took Dahlia in her arms. She was everything she could ever want in one little bundle. She had her father's eyes. Nikolai said Dahlia looked like her but sometimes she could only see his features staring back up at her. Nikolai packed the pump away and took it downstairs to store the milk and wash the pieces.

When he came back, she was humming a song to Dahlia, letting the girl hold one of her fingers.

"I wish I was there."

"Me too." The sadness came through more than the anger.

"I'll stay as long as I can. Take care of you both." He took Dahlia back and made sure she was comfortable. "Don't ever be afraid of calling me when you need."

"Last time I needed you, you never picked up."

He looked away from her. Six months and he still never explained himself. She told herself she'd refuse to take him back until he did. He couldn't disappear from her the week their daughter was born and not tell her where he went. Even John didn't seem to know. God knows she hounded him enough.

"Get some rest."

[kyaruun]

i might have to open comms to cover up for an unexpected medical expense... i'm unsure as to what i can actually offer but i do need the money, ideas are appreciated TT

[einsatzzz]

halfway thru the week 🥳🥳 my health is still up and down. the super low energy and sleepiness (but can't sleep early??? or for too long???) really hitting me full force this week, its spilling even to my work time, black tea keeps saving my ass. on the brighter side, ive also been feeling better enough to do 10-minute stretches again after waking up (if im unwell i'll just downgrade it to 3-5 minutes).

im currently on a 2-day streak, and aim for getting to a 3-month streak again. but from what i've read/researched it's probably gonna take about 6 months with how sedentary i am? but there should be noticeable improvements at halfway mark anyway.

this is my 1786231th attempt at starting up a healthy habit for myself. it's gonna fail but at least i tried 🤣🤣🤣

[blizzardfluffykpop]

why the fuck do i miss pigeons

[ppulverse]

.

[newtness532]

i said if i go this way it will probably be 20seconds quicker and then i got lost and walked 18 minutes more

[neverendingford]

.

[raksh-writes]

Twf your body forces you to take a break by making you feel sick and giving you migraine symptoms, like-- thanks, I get it, but could you lay off on the stress if Im to have any Actual rest? Please and thank you :')

[starmaidengarden]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 જ⁀➴♡

— overblot gang : x gn!reader. dividers: uzmacchiato

note: Hi, it's been a while. Sorry for not posting. I've been struggling a lot in the past few months. I'll talk about it in a separate post, but WOOO My 100th post!!

Riddle Rosehearts ༉⋆｡˚

Hyper-aware of you at all times. When he’s in love, everything you do suddenly seems so much more important to him. What you’re doing, how you're feeling, but tries to pretend he's not watching you like a hawk.

He panics internally whenever you're upset, thinking he failed you somehow. He won’t always know how to comfort you, but he’ll try so hard, fumbling through awkward pats, stammered words, and eventually hugging you tightly while whispering, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry… I can’t bear it.”

Has tea dates ready down to the sugar cube. Every single detail is thought out when you’re involved— teacup chosen based on what he thinks suits your mood, snacks that don’t crumble too much so your fingers stay clean, etc.

Acts awkward when trying to be sweet. If he wants to compliment you, he fumbles over it. “You look… adequate— no, I meant to say pleasant! Is that acceptable? Wait—uh.”

He secretly wants physical closeness. He yearns to hold your hand, but would combust if you actually did. Expect him to brush your fingers “on accident” when passing you tea or opening a door.

The moment he realizes he’s truly in love, He starts wondering not just how you fit into his world, but how he can become someone worthy of belonging in yours.

Leona Kingscholar ༉⋆｡˚

Love softens him. His rough edges remain, but there's a quiet protectiveness in everything he does now. He pulls you closer while napping, walks on the side closest to danger, grumbles about others bothering you, but does it anyway.

He speaks to you in a gentle, almost soothing tone that contrasts sharply with his interactions with others. When he's comfortable in your presence, his voice takes on a velvety quality, almost like a soft purr.

Does thoughtful things without making a big deal of them. Your favorite drink? It’s in your hands before you knew you needed it. Someone bothering you? He stares them down until they leave.

He performs acts of service, like fixing your uniform, carrying heavy items, and giving you piggyback rides when you're tired. He focuses on making your life easier without expecting thanks.

Let you win in small things. Whether it's a game of chess, cards, or even playful sparring, he intentionally lets you take the lead. With a grin that hints at his mischief, he skillfully holds back, allowing you to claim victories in these small skirmishes, though he would never confess that he’s going easy on you—after all, that would spoil the fun.

Azul Ashengrotto ༉⋆｡˚

Terrified of his own feelings at first. He’ll try to logically dissect his emotions like a contract clause until he finally realizes “I’m completely, hopelessly in love with them.”

Buys your affection—but sincerely. Anything to earn your praise, spoiling you rotten with luxurious gifts, gourmet meals, and perfectly planned dates at sea. But beneath it all, he’s starved for affection—a touch on his cheek, a hand through his hair, and he melts.

Gives you discounts at the lounge, and by discounts, I mean “accidentally gives you everything for free.” He'll offer you “special deals” just so he can see you more often. He gives you freebies, bends the contract rules, and always finds a way to make time for you.

He’s touch-starved but doesn’t initiate. When you hug him? Kiss his cheek? Slip your hand into his? He stares like you’ve cast a powerful spell. He never expects it, but he craves it. And eventually, he’ll shakily start reaching out first, just a little.

Turns into a stuttering, blushing wreck when you compliment him genuinely. He can take flattery from strangers. But you? It’s over.

Jamil Viper ༉⋆｡˚

Is 100% in denial at first. He tries to hide his feelings for a long time—he’s used to being in the background, and he doesn’t want to feel vulnerable.

Starts cooking your favorite foods without even asking. The moment he hears you like something? It's on the menu.

Subtly adjusts your schedule to protect your health. Did you forget lunch? Suddenly, Jamil's handing you a lunch. Overworking? He drags you outside to “run errands” (a walk to get some fresh air).

Makes excuses to be near you. “I was passing by.” “You forgot your notebook.” “Do you need help studying?” He’s smooth, even when flustered.

Gets extremely jealous, but it’s quiet. His smile tightens. He stares a bit too long. And later that night, he’ll whisper, “Don’t make me watch you smile at someone else like that again, it drives me crazy.”

Jamil doesn’t show grand romantic gestures—but when he offers you his hoodie or lets you nap in his room, know this: you’ve touched a part of him he thought no one would ever reach.

Vil Schoenheit ༉⋆｡˚

When he’s in love, he stares at you with such focus, like you’re a masterpiece. His compliments come rarely but powerfully “You’re breathtaking tonight,” spoken in a voice low and sincere.

Fixes your hair or collar without saying anything. Smooths it down, tucks it back, all while scolding you for not being “presentation-ready.”

Wants to be your muse and your mentor. He’ll teach you how to do skin care or pose for a photo, but he’s also watching you with a soft expression the whole time.

Your presence becomes part of his routine. Face masks for two, helping him memorize lines, dressing you up in elegant clothes because “you deserve to feel like royalty too"

Gets visibly annoyed when others flirt with you. You can see the irritation on his face whenever someone flirts with you. “Are they blind?” he grumbles. “You’re clearly in a league of your own!”

When he looks at you, his demeanor softens; his smile transforms into something genuine and warm, made just for you, away from the cameras and the spotlight.

He doesn’t tolerate others looking down on you. If someone dares to insult you, he’ll destroy them with a single look—and then tell you calmly, “Don’t listen to nonsense from those beneath you.”

Publicly, he’s poised, elegant, and graceful. But alone with you? He lets down his hair, takes off the makeup, and leans into your shoulder with tired sighs. You’re his safe space where perfection isn’t needed.

Idia Shroud ༉⋆｡˚

He does things terrifyingly out of character. For you? He will go outside more. He’ll show up to a club event. He’ll make an appearance in person if it means you’ll smile at him. Every time he steps out of his comfort zone, he’s basically emotionally flatlining inside.

Hyperfixates on what you like. You mention a show in passing? He’s watched the whole season. Favorite snack? It’s now stocked in his room.

His hair gives him away. Even if he’s trying to be cool, one compliment from you and his hair flares pink like a sparkler. It’s like having a live feed of his feelings. He hates it but can’t help it.

When you visit his room, he clears a space for you, adjusts the lighting to your liking, and will nervously show you his projects. If you praise him, he’ll go red from his neck to his ears.

He’s incredibly clingy in private. Not emotionally suffocating — but he loves touch when it’s safe. Playing with your fingers. Sitting next to you until your thighs are pressed together. Lying in your lap while he rambles about obscure lore. If you stroke his hair, he’ll fall asleep with the softest smile on his face.

Malleus Draconia ༉⋆｡˚

He wants to protect your smile like a treasure. If something bothers you? It’s gone. If you’re sad? He will spend hours learning how to fix it, even if it means asking Lilia for advice or studying human courtship rituals.

He shows his love through constancy. He always arrives when you need him, even without a word. Appears in the rain with an umbrella. Hovers in the corner of a room because he sensed your mood shift. You don’t even have to call — he knows.

He watches you like you’re a miracle. He’ll listen to you talk about your day with a fond, still smile, like every word is precious. “You’re even more fascinating than the stars,” he’ll say with no irony at all.

He remembers everything. You hate the cold? He’ll warm the path you walk. That you laugh at certain folklore? He’ll tell you all the versions he knows. That you like stars? He’ll conjure an entire sky for you to walk under.

He finds joy in your joy. He was so used to being feared or tiptoed around. When you smile at something silly or laugh loudly at a dumb pun, he lights up.

He takes forever seriously. When he’s in love, Malleus isn’t planning a school romance — he’s planning centuries. A life with you, in every world, in every version of time. “You may grow older. I may outlive time itself. But if you wish it, I will always remain by your side.”

[ang3ltine]

"𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠" - Robert ("Bob") Reynolds x freader x platonic thunderbolts

Bob was asleep for God knows how long, now that he has the chance at a better life. Who better to show him than you?

a.n - Ava was sick of seeing you and Bob dance around eachother like puppies in love, so she does something about it

warnings - mention of mental illness, lovesick Bob! minor spoilers and major fluff!!

"Remember to call us if you need anything ok?" You were currently on the quinjet, ready to leave for a mission. But there was a problem, Bob had to stay in the tower by himself.

Bob nodded hurriedly before ushering you back onto the ship, but you hesitated when he turned to leave. You grab his arm rather quickly, which prompted him to look back at you with wide eyes.

"Be safe," you whispered softly so that it falls in his ears only.

Both Ava and Yelena heard the couple from a distance and snickered to themselves.

"I.. I will," Bob stutters before giving you a tight-lipped 'bob' smile. He stepped back so that he wouldn't delay your mission.

The hatch to the ship closed as you peer down at the small figure waving at you. Yet, you could almost feel the smugness of the duo behind you.

"Be safe," Yelena says with sickingly sweet tone while Ava butt's in afterwards. "Oh I'll be so safe."

You give them a deadpan look before responding with crossed arms. "Can you guys stop?"

"But how will that keep us safe?" Ava retorts sarcastically while Yelena falls into her arms dramatically. "I'll be safe once you kiss me."

You knew the two of them were mocking you for having a soft spot for Bob. Ever since you guys took him in after his 'incident' as Sentry. No thanks to Valentina ofcourse.

"Can you girls stop gossiping? It's annoying." John grunted while adjusting his suit.

The team was split into two for today's mission. Boys vs. Girls to make matters worse, but you guys didn't want to lose to John Walker.

So you tried your very best to complete your part of the mission as quickly as possible. An old hydra base had been spotted a few weeks ago so Bucky wanted to check it out and gather intel, just in case.

The location was in the snowy mountains of Slovakia and it was a mission based on stealth. Something that John struggled with, and Alexei, so he was left in charge of the jet. Much to his disappointment.

"Oh you gotta be kidding me..." John mutters as he spots you from a distance with a smug smile on your face.

"Hey asshat, how's the taste of being a loser feel?" You quipped while happily walking out of the building, after successfully infiltrating it.

John on the other hand had failed his part and the others had to step in while he sat in the quinjet with minor injuries.

He puts his hands up in defence before sighing. "Fine, you win this time."

Internally he was fuming, but he wasn't ready to admit that.

"Relax I was just kidding." You mused while passing by him with a quick pat on his back. John knew that you were joking, but it was reassuring to hear the words himself.

"You think Bob's doing ok?" You mumbled while putting on your seat belt.

"Don't worry, I'm sure he's curled up on the couch thinking about you." Yelena let's out a coarse laugh while she takes her seat next to you.

" Oh 'lena what would I do without you?" You say sarcastically while she links her arms with yours. "You'll be lost...and unsafe."

The last comment made you roll your eyes before finally laughing along to the joke. As the rumble of the quinjet signalled it's takeoff sequence, so you got ready to take a nap on the journey back home.

What you all didn't expect was to find Bob standing on the helipad, with a pillow in hand. It seemed like he was anticipating your return since he was sort of giddy when you got off.

"Ahh look your boyfriend was waiting for you after all," Ava makes the comment while walking past you swiftly. You shook your head unamsingly before making your way towards the awaiting brunette.

"Were you waiting for us?" You sighed while reaching up to fix his hair. It had gotten messy due to the blast of wind from the quinjet engines.

"Oh well...I sort of had another episode while you were gone...so I thought I'd wait out here until you returned." It was hard to make out what he was said on the last part but nonetheless, you pull him into a warm embrace.

"You wanna talk about it?" You whisper into his hair before running your fingers through the dark brown locks. Bob shook his head as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

Not wanting to push him, you just stood there while holding him until he was ready to go back inside.

What you didn't notice was how fast Bob's heart was racing while you two hugged.

Deep down he was glad that you didn't, he would be too embarrassed to ever admit that he secretly liked you. For now, it was better for you not to know.

"You got that right?" Ava asks while squinting her eyes to get a better view from the hanger. The sound of a click from a camera could be heard before Yelena answers with her phone in hand.

"Got it." Yelena snickers mischievously.

"We need a plan to get these two idiots to confess."

"What do you have in mind?" Yelena turns to Ava while she thinks of something.

"Ok... I think I have one."

"Is...is this ok?" Bob asks while showing his bowl full of cake batter. You leaned in slightly to see for yourself, and to your surprise, it was perfectly light and airy.

"Wow Bob! The batter looks perfect!"

Bob breaks into a wide grin at the compliment as the rush of giddiness returned. He observed the way your mouth was moving while you talks and was seemingly under a trance, that was until you pulled him back to reality.

"Bob sweetie are you ok?" You say in a gentle tone as you wave your hands infront of his face. He blinked at few times , seemingly lost before nodding. "Uh.. yeah I'm good."

"Aww you call him sweetie now?"

You sighed and hung your head low at the sound of the familiar voice. " 'lena don't push it."

You two had been dancing around each other for about 2 months now. Every day, it seemed like you were closer to getting Bob out of his shell. Whatever you did worked because he was able to start training with you all without the worry of the 'void' returning.

Speaking of Bob, he was in the kitchen having his dinner with Ava's company. It was late and well past midnight when the group had finished their training.

Her plan was beginning to unfold when you rushed into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your shoulder.

"What happened? Is there any emergency?!"

Your hair was slightly damp from the shower you had just taken. Bob recognised the top that you were wearing and almost choked on his food. You were wearing his blue t-shirt that he had left behind a few nights ago.

"There's no emergency is there?" You sighed as you shift your gaze towards the woman near the refrigerator. She simply shrugged before taking a chug of cold milk.

Bob had completely forgotten about the shirt and to make things worse was that you look absolutely gorgeous with it on. Not to mention, your thighs were exposed since your shorts were hidden underneath the gigantic top.

"Bob...! I didn't know you were still awake," blood rushed to your cheeks when you realised Bob was staring directly at you with wide eyes. You had no idea he'd be here, thinking that everyone else had gone to sleep already.

Bob cleared his throat and swiped his bowl to the side. His dinner now forgotten about and directed his attention towards you. You felt like a deer caught in headlights.

You were planning on giving his shirt back but you kept on delaying up until now.

"Oh uh --...hey love." Bob stutters slightly while he drinks in your appearance. Which was very out of character for him, even making Ava stop dead in her tracks from the sudden pet name.

The muscles of your cheeks began to rise as you felt yourself smile at the sweet nickname that he had given you. Bob on the other hand? Felt himself swoon whenever you gave him that smile of yours.

Yelena returned from the pantry with a bottle of water in his hand with a shit eating grin on her face. Giving knowing glances between the two of you.

"Its good to see you too 'lena," you sighed before making your way towards the counter.

"How's your day been beautiful?"

Bob was caught offguard by hearing Ava giving you a pet name as he blinks at her in confusion. Was there something going on between you and Ava that he didn't know about?

He became even more jumpy when he noticed your form taking a seat right next to him.

You fought back the urge to smile again when you noticed the tips of Bob's ears turning red. He looked like a puppy begging for attention. Nonetheless you turn back to Ava to answer her question.

"My days been eventful, to say the least. I mean I made some new adjustments to my suit so it could take in more volts of energy-"

Ava nodded and promted you to carry on. You spoke about the drills you had done with John and Bucky aswell.

Bob had tuned out of the conversation. He rested his head on his palm as a lovesick sigh escaped his lips. He followed the way your mouth moved while you talked and the way your hair would bounce slightly from every gesture you'd make.

Seeing the way your eyes would sparkle whenever you'd talk about something you're interested in.

Bob considered himself lucky to be in your presence and the way the light above them gave you a warm glow. He didn't even notice the conversation dying down as you, Ava and Yelena turned their heads towards him.

You looked at him with concern while Yelena muffled her laugh behind her hand. She saw how smitten her best friend looked which only convinced her more to get you two together.

"Bob hon', are you ok?"

Ava let out a choked laugh at the nickname. You gave her a light glare as she calmed herself down.

Your body was fully facing the now flustered Bob, he almost flinched out of instinct when your cold hand met his burning cheeks.

"Geez Bobby you're burning up, are you feeling ok?" You started to get worried, thinking maybe he had gotten a fever.

"Mmh? I'm feelin' fine though." Bob murmured as he looked like he was going to collapse right there in your arms. Getting absolutely drunk from the attention you were giving him.

"I'd say otherwise," Ava mumbled to herself in amusement as she excused herself, also dragging Yelena with her despite her protests.

She believed that the two needed some privacy so she had the fabulous idea of locking you two in.

"Seriously guys?!" You yelled when the shut the door on you both. Knowing that there was no use in chasing after them, you turn to face Bob again.

Bob saw the way your mouth was still moving but he couldn't focus on the words that you were saying. If this was anyone else, he wouldn't even let them touch him. Depending on the person ofcourse, like Yelena.

But it was you. The woman that had the ability to make his heart hurt from how lovely you were. He'd never felt so much love for someone in a long time and it kind of scares him.

You were still patting his cheek, feeling the slightly rough stuble beneath your skin. You also moved stray hairs out of his face and tucked it behind his ears. He wanted to say something but no words came out.

"Maybe we should head to the med bay to get yourself checked out." You were about to get up to leave until you felt a strong grip on your arm as Bob made you sit back down again.

"Do you not want to go?" You asked in confusion as you tilted your head. Bob froze as he tried to figure out what he should do next.

His hands slowly reached up towards your cheeks and gently caressed them with his thumb. He was impossibly close now, his nose practically touching yours.

You were surprised at how bold he was being but you weren't one to complain. But still, you waited to see what he would do next.

The faint scent of your shampoo and conditioner fills his nostrils. Your peer into his deep blue eyes, his pupils were dilated but oh so full of love.

You hesitated, and rightfully so. Bob had the tendency to fluctuate his mood so you weren't sure whether you should take advantage of the situation.

Bob brushes his lips against yours, testing the waters. Not knowing if you wanted this or not. Without a second to waste, you pressed your lips fully against his.

They molded together perfectly, you don't know why you waited so long to feel this, to feel him.

His lips were like you imagined, soft and plump with a hint of cinnamon since he just started eating his dessert.

But a distant voice at the back of Bob's head made him pull away.

You noticed the way his eyes filled with worry, knowing something was bothering him. He lets out a shaky breath as you feel a slight shift in his demeanour, as if trying to hold something or someone at bay.

"Would you... want someone like me? I mean -... you don't think I'm...pathetic?" A hurt laugh escaped his lips as he mentions the last part.

"Darling, is that the reason why you're so hesitant?" Your heart hurt squeezed at the thought of him even thinking of being unworthy of love.

You lift his chin up so that he'd make eye contact with you again.

"You know...I fell for you for a reason, Bob. That means every part of you, including your insecurities. Because... that's what makes you human, just like us."

He couldn't help but smile brightly at your statement as all his worries leaving him in an instant. The voice that was nagging him not a moment ago, vanished. As if it wasn't there in the first place.

You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips to start off, causing Bob to become even more giddy than usual. Then turning into laughter as you pepper his face with kisses before pressing one last kiss on his now pink lips. Due to the excess tint from your lipbalm.

"Thanks for believing in me..." Bob whispers against your lips as he peers down at you through his lashes.

"Always," you whispered back in a slightly quieter tone while brushing the stray hair away from his eyes.

You silently ask for Bob's permission with your eyes, which he answered with a firm nod before leaning back in once again.

He lets out a surprised gasp against your mouth when you took a seat on his lap for better access. Taking the chance to show him how much you truly loved the man beneath you.

The rest of the world faded around you as you both got lost in time. It was beginning to get hard to breathe as he pulls you against him to deepen the kiss. You felt a butterflies deep in your stomach that you never felt before with anyone.

Bob could taste the slight hint of strawberry on your tongue from the candy you had eaten just before taking a shower. In another bold act of gesture, he takes the opportunity to fully immerse himself in the kiss and sucks lightly on your bottom lip. Wanting to taste more.

His hands were all over you and he had a hard time keeping himself under control. Giving your hips a gentle squeeze while you sat on his lap.

He whimpers against your lips while you gently prod and nibble on his bottom lip, the soft muscle becoming swollen.

Literally, anyone could walk in and see you two, but clearly that wasn't on their mind at the moment.

But eventually you both had to pull away for air, your cheeks were flushed but you were content. Smiling softly down at the adorable brunette below you. Bob lightly nuzzled his nose against yours while both your breaths became foggy due to the cold air in the kitchen.

"So Sunshine....can I finally call you mine?"

Before he could answer you hear the sound of muffled talking in the hallway and they were headed straight towards the kitchen.

You two quickly scrambled off eachother and tried to act casual. Bob picked at his now cold food while you rummaged through the fridge.

"Cut the act you two. We already know what happened." A teasing voice called out. "By the way, we have pictures as proof."

You internally groan as you turn to see Ava with a smirk on her face with Yelena having the same amused look.

"So, are you two dating now?" Ava asks while she looks between you and Bob.

You huffed as you made your way over to Bob, who was already standing up from his seat and stood beside the chair awkwardly. You reached his height by tiptoeing slightly and placed a firm yet soft kiss on his cheek.

Bob's face turned almost bright red while Ava and Yelena both looked at you in disbelief.

Which only made the situation all the more amusing. They didn't expect you to be so bold.

"I guess we are," you respond with a doting smile as Bob shared the same look he'd always had.

Lovesick.

Taglist: @doodlebob-mp3 @starktonyx @perdidosbucky-yyo @marianastudiesart @ordelixx @hisredheadedgoddess28 @avatarobsessedgirly @starstruckfirecat @adventure-awaits13

[mcrdvcks]

truly

summary: After seeing Scott and Jean's newborn, Logan gets baby fever. word count: 6.6k+ pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader notes: here was the request that inspired this! i will say, anon who requested this, it got a little out of hand, lol. so enjoy 2 smut scenes. this is set in the same world as Deck The Halls and i just need this love spiral but you don't have to read those to understand this! (title is a song by cigarettes after sex) warnings/tags: reader and logan have a bio kid, laura, fluff, talks of having a baby, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, breeding kink, fingering, cum play (?)

The four of you were visiting the X-Mansion to see the new addition to the family, Rachel Summers.

Laura and Sierra had already dashed off to the backyard with some of the other kids, leaving you and Logan alone with Jean and Scott.

"Here," Jean said, carefully transferring Rachel into your arms. "She's fed, changed, and hopefully about to nap."

You grinned, gently settling Rachel against your shoulder. "I've got her. Go take a break."

Jean let out a relieved sigh. "You’re amazing, Y/N. I haven’t had an hour to myself in days."

Scott chuckled softly. "More like weeks."

Jean lightly elbowed him. "Be quiet."

"Go," you insisted softly, waving her away. "We’ve got this."

Jean nodded gratefully, already backing out of the room. "Thank you."

Scott followed behind her, offering Logan a quick grin. "Don’t let the girls destroy the place, please."

"No promises," Logan said dryly.

As they left, you gently rocked Rachel, smiling down at her. "Hey, pretty girl. You gonna sleep for your Auntie Y/N?"

Logan watched from a few feet away, hands tucked casually in his pockets, his eyes fixed on you and Rachel. "Looks good on you."

You glanced up, raising a brow. "What?"

He tilted his head toward Rachel. "That. Babies. Always did."

You laughed softly, moving slowly back and forth. "Yeah, well, I’m just glad ours are finally sleeping through the night."

He snorted. "Mostly."

"Mostly," you agreed.

He stepped closer, leaning against the table next to you. Rachel’s tiny fingers curled sleepily against your shoulder, eyes blinking drowsily before finally shutting. Logan’s eyes softened just slightly.

"I forgot how small they are at this stage," he murmured quietly.

"Yeah," you sighed, gently smoothing Rachel's hair. "Time goes by fast."

Logan watched the baby settle peacefully in your arms, his eyes thoughtful. "Laura and Sierra used to do that too."

"What, sleep?"

He smiled faintly. "Be quiet for longer than five minutes."

You grinned, keeping your voice low. "They're not that bad."

"Not that bad," he repeated dryly. "Laura's probably climbing a tree right now, and Sierra’s probably giving her ideas."

"True," you conceded with a chuckle.

Logan’s gaze drifted again to Rachel’s peaceful little face, the faint rise and fall of her chest. A tiny pang of something tugged deep in his chest, something he wouldn’t dare admit out loud.

"You want to hold her?" you offered gently, sensing his quiet contemplation.

He hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "Nah. Looks like she's comfy with you."

You smiled softly, carefully swaying back and forth. "Suit yourself."

Logan shifted, still watching. A beat passed before he cleared his throat. "Scott and Jean seem good."

"They are," you said. "Exhausted, but good."

"Yeah," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully. "A newborn’ll do that."

You gave him a curious look. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Logan straightened slightly, clearing his throat again. "Just... thinking."

Your lips curved into a knowing smile. "Thinking about what?"

He shrugged lightly, voice careful. "Nothin'. Just... been a while since we had one this little."

You chuckled softly, shifting Rachel gently. "Someone’s getting nostalgic."

He snorted quietly. "Maybe a little."

"Well, you can always babysit Rachel," you teased softly. "Jean would probably be thrilled."

He cracked a faint smile, shaking his head. "Think I'll leave that to you."

"Mhm," you hummed knowingly, still watching him closely. "Sure."

Rachel stirred slightly, fussing softly in her sleep. Logan moved instinctively closer, a hand coming up to carefully rub the baby’s tiny back, helping soothe her immediately. He paused when he noticed your raised brow.

"What?" he muttered defensively. "Ain’t lost my touch yet."

You smiled, tilting your head. "No, you haven’t."

He watched Rachel settle down again, peaceful and warm against your chest. That gentle tug deepened quietly, making him sigh softly under his breath.

"I'll go check on Laura and Sierra," he muttered, pulling back carefully.

You smiled gently, letting him retreat. "Okay."

Logan paused at the doorway, glancing back once more. The sight of you holding Rachel—so natural, so easy—was etched warmly into his mind. He shook his head slightly, hiding a smile as he disappeared into the hall.

---

The house was quiet—after getting back to the cabin late, Laura and Sierra took their showers then got into bed.

You stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, Logan sitting on the bed with a notebook in his hands.

“You ever think ‘bout ‘nother one?” he asked, still lazily doodling.

You glanced at him, pausing with your towel still wrapped around you. “Another what?”

Logan looked up, meeting your eyes. “Baby.”

You smiled faintly, resuming your movements as you searched for clothes. “Not much. Maybe a few times.”

He hummed quietly, his pencil pausing. “Today got me thinkin’.”

You chuckled softly, pulling a shirt from the dresser. “Seeing Rachel gave you baby fever?”

He shrugged, setting the notebook down. “Maybe a little.”

You turned to him, amusement on your face. “You’re serious?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so shocked, darlin’.”

“Not shocked,” you said, pulling the shirt on over your head. “Just surprised, I guess. Thought you liked finally gettin’ sleep again.”

He snorted. “Sleep’s overrated.”

“Easy for you to say,” you teased, tugging on a pair of shorts.

Logan watched you, quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Wouldn’t be so bad though, right?”

You paused, looking up to meet his eyes. “Another baby?”

He nodded slowly, leaning back against the headboard. “Yeah. Sierra’d probably like bein’ a big sister.”

You smiled softly, moving toward the bed. “Laura already is one.”

“Yeah, but she’d probably love bossin’ around another sibling,” he smirked. “And Sierra’s gettin’ pretty independent.”

You climbed onto the bed beside him, crossing your legs and looking thoughtful. “You’re really thinking about this.”

“Like I said,” he murmured, eyes gentle as he studied your face, “today got me thinkin’.”

You tilted your head, a soft smile curving your lips. “Are you saying you want another baby?”

He reached out, tugging you gently closer until you settled across his lap. “Maybe I am.”

You laughed softly, sliding your arms around his neck. “Logan Howlett, secretly a softie.”

He rolled his eyes, brushing his thumb along your hip. “Keep it quiet. Got a reputation to uphold.”

You hummed, leaning in, lips brushing his gently. “Another baby, huh?”

He kissed you softly, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes again. “Only if you want.”

Your gaze softened, fingertips trailing lightly along his jaw. “Wouldn’t be so bad.”

He smiled slowly, hands slipping beneath your shirt, warm against your skin. “That a yes?”

You laughed, pulling him closer. “Yeah, Logan. That’s a yes.”

“Good,” he muttered, lips ghosting along your neck. “Figured we’d better get started.”

“Now? I just took a shower and put my clothes on.”

Logan’s lips barely brushed yours as he murmured, “Good thing I’m the one who takes ’em off,” voice low, teasing, full of promise. His hands were already sliding under your shirt, warm palms grazing bare skin as his mouth found your jaw, then lower—kissing along the line of your throat like he had all the time in the world.

You sighed, eyes fluttering as he eased you back against the pillows, but a flicker of something practical snuck in through the haze. “Did you lock the door?”

He groaned, forehead dropping against your chest for a second. “Fuckin’—” He sighed, kissed you once, then reluctantly shifted back. “You ruin all my fun, y’know that?”

You grinned, tugging the hem of your shirt up. “Go lock it, old man.”

He muttered something under his breath about being cockblocked by fatherhood and stomped off toward the door. A second later, you heard the lock slide into place. Then a scrape—he was dragging the chair under the knob.

You laughed, covering your mouth to muffle it. “Paranoid much?”

“Sierra picks locks now,” Logan growled as he returned, eyes dark and determined. “Not takin’ chances.”

Before you could say another word, he was back over you, hand splayed on your stomach, pressing you into the mattress. He shoved your shirt up to your ribs, mouth finding the underside of your breast, stubble scraping along your skin, tongue hot and slow as he sucked a mark against your ribs.

“Still smell like soap,” he muttered against your skin. “Gonna fix that.”

You gasped when his teeth grazed your nipple through the fabric, your hand flying to his hair. “Logan—”

He shoved your shirt up over your head and tossed it aside, then sat back on his heels, tugging your shorts and panties down in one rough pull. “Been thinkin’ about this since the second you held that baby. Looked like a fuckin’ dream. Like I needed to put another one in you.”

You flushed, heartbeat pounding as he lowered himself between your thighs, spreading them apart with firm hands. He kissed your inner thigh first—slow, wet, open-mouthed kisses trailing higher, teasing heat.

Then his tongue flicked—slow, deliberate, dragging up through your folds—and your breath caught hard.

You reached down, tangling a hand in his hair. “Thought you were impatient.”

His voice was muffled against your cunt, lips slick, tongue dipping low. “Can still enjoy it, sweetheart. Gotta get you ready, don’t I?”

His mouth was hot, deliberate, tongue sliding in slow circles around your clit, then back down, teasing your entrance, sucking one of your lips between his teeth just enough to make your thighs twitch. One of his hands slid up, spreading you wider, while the other held your hip down when it bucked.

You let out a breathy moan, biting your knuckle to stay quiet. “L-Logan—”

He didn’t stop. He groaned low against you like you were his favorite meal, tongue flattening and dragging hard and slow right over your clit again—wet, unrelenting pressure that made your eyes roll.

Your hips jerked and he growled, fingers digging into your thigh. “Stay still.”

You whimpered, breath catching. “F-fuck—”

He pulled back just long enough to say, voice all gravel and heat, “That’s it, sweetheart. Just relax. Let me taste you.”

Then he dove back in, and this time he didn’t hold back—tongue pressing deep, lips sealing around your clit and sucking with filthy precision. The wet, obscene sounds of it filled the room, and your thighs trembled as heat snapped up your spine.

His hand moved, one thick finger sliding into you slow and curling just right, and your back arched off the bed, a helpless cry breaking from your throat.

“Fuck—Logan—oh my god—”

He moaned against you like your taste was the best damn thing he’d had all year, and when he added a second finger, stretching you, working you open, it was almost too much. You squirmed, gasped, toes curling as heat bloomed sharp and fast in your belly.

"A-ahhh—fuck, Logan—"

His tongue didn’t stop, his lips slick with you, beard damp against your thighs. “Mmhhhn,” he growled low, the sound vibrating right through your clit like a goddamn electric current. His fingers curled again, slow and dirty, dragging along that spot that made your back arch like a bow.

You reached down blindly, tangling your fingers in his thick hair, gripping tight. “S-shit—Logan, I’m gonna—”

He didn’t even lift his head, just sucked harder, lips locking around your clit, two thick fingers buried deep and fucking slow, pushing you right over that edge without mercy. It hit like a damn freight train, ripped the air from your lungs.

"Logan—ohmygod—"

Your hips jerked, your thighs clenched around his head, and you came hard against his mouth, a helpless, strangled moan punching from your chest as your body shook apart under him. He didn’t stop—kept licking, slower now, easing you through it, savoring it like he wanted to bottle the sound of your wrecked breathing.

"Good girl," he rasped when he finally came up for air, voice dark and hungry, mouth glistening with you. "Fuckin' love when you fall apart on my tongue."

You were still panting, trembling slightly, your skin flushed all over. “Y-you’re a menace,” you managed, trying to blink him into focus as he crawled up your body.

He grinned, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then leaned in to kiss you, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. Hot. Filthy. You moaned into it, hands tugging him closer.

"Not done," he murmured against your lips. "Not nearly fuckin' done."

You reached down between you, felt him thick and hard through his sweats. He hissed between his teeth when your palm pressed against him, his hips twitching.

“Get these off,” you whispered, tugging at the waistband.

He didn’t waste a second, shoved them down and kicked them off, his cock springing free—thick, heavy, flushed at the tip and already leaking. You bit your lip at the sight, reaching to wrap your hand around him, stroking slow. He groaned, low and rough, head dropping to your shoulder.

"Fuck, darlin’... been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day."

"Yeah?" you murmured, breath hot against his neck, hand still moving. “About knocking me up again?”

He growled, deep and hot in his throat, hips rolling into your grip. “Mhm. Watchin’ you hold that baby—made me wanna bend you over right there and fill you up. Stuff you full, see if it takes.”

You shuddered, moaned softly, your thighs squeezing together. “Logan…”

He grinned, dark and wild, then reached down and hooked your leg over his arm, lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your soaked folds, teasing the head through your slick. "You want it?"

"God, yes—please—"

That was all it took. He pushed in slow, dragging a deep groan from both of you as you stretched around him. Inch by thick, fucking inch, he sank into you, filling you up with no resistance, just wet heat and pressure that made your head spin.

"Shhhhit," he breathed, eyes fluttering shut, jaw clenched tight. "Tight as ever… fuckin’ perfect."

You whimpered, clutching his arms as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours. The stretch, the fullness—it burned in the best way, had you writhing under him, thighs already trembling again.

"Move," you begged softly, voice catching. "Please—Logan—"

He did. Slow at first—rolling his hips in smooth, dragging thrusts that had your eyes rolling back, the head of his cock grinding deep, right where you were still sensitive. You gasped, clawed at his back.

"That what you need?" he rasped, breath hot against your ear. "Want me to fuck another baby into you?"

You nodded, whimpering, too far gone to answer with anything but a broken moan. “Uh-huh—ahh—yes—f-fuck—”

He picked up the pace, thrusts harder now, deeper, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the quiet room. You could hear the chair scraping faintly under the doorknob every time the headboard knocked against the wall. Didn't matter. Let it fall. Let it shatter.

“You’re gonna take every fuckin’ drop,” he growled, one hand sliding under your thigh to lift it higher, angling deeper, harder. “Gonna make me a daddy again, sweetheart?”

You cried out, eyes wide and hazy. “Y-yeah—yeah—want it—want you—”

"That’s my girl," he groaned, slamming into you, pace relentless now. "Gonna breed this pretty pussy till you’re knocked up. Fill you so fuckin’ deep you’ll still be leaking me tomorrow."

You moaned, helpless under him, his body caging you in, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside. It was too much, too good—your second orgasm building sharp and fast. Your nails bit into his back.

"L-Logan—gonna—I'm—fuck—"

"Yeah, baby, I got you," he panted, snapping his hips harder, faster. "Come on my cock—"

You shattered around him with a scream, back arched, body clenching down so tight around him he cursed loud against your throat.

“Fuuuck—you’re squeezin’ me—shit—!”

He slammed in hard one last time, then froze, cock twitching deep as he spilled into you, growling loud and low through gritted teeth, his whole body shaking. You felt it—hot, thick spurts of come painting your insides, filling you up just like he promised.

He stayed there, buried deep, chest heaving, his weight warm on top of you as both of you tried to catch your breath.

Then he chuckled, breathless, voice still wrecked. “That’s one hell of a start.”

You snorted, weakly swatting at his arm. “You're insatiable.”

He smirked, nuzzling into your neck. “With you? Damn right.”

His cock was still twitching inside you, and he didn’t move—just held you, sweaty and tangled, not caring about the mess between your legs, the heat of your skin sticking to his. You stroked a hand through his hair, still dazed and sore in the best way, heart thudding against his chest.

You didn’t say anything else for a long moment. You didn’t need to.

Then Logan shifted, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were warm, wild, a little wicked. “Round two’s gonna be messier.”

Your breath hitched. You smiled. “Good.”

---

A few weeks later, Sierra sat at the kitchen table drawing a picture for Rachel with her crayons. You were at the stove, making a pie for Jean and Scott.

Logan and Laura sat with Sierra, both of them reading—Logan a newspaper, and Laura a comic.

Then, Sierra spoke up. “Daddy, how are babies made?”

Logan choked on his coffee as Laura let out a snort. "What?"

Sierra tilted her head, blinking at him innocently. "How are babies made?"

Laura snickered again, hiding behind her comic. "Yeah, Dad. How are they made?"

Logan shot Laura a pointed glare. "Not helpin', kid."

You pressed your lips together, fighting to stay serious as you turned to Sierra. "Why do you ask, honey?"

"'Cause Rachel is a baby, and Jean said she grew in her tummy," Sierra said, still coloring carefully. "How'd she get in there?"

Laura’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yeah, Dad. How did Rachel get in Jean’s tummy?"

Logan’s jaw ticked. "You’re grounded."

Laura rolled her eyes, clearly not taking his threat seriously.

You sighed softly, leaning against the counter. "Well, Sierra, when two people love each other very much—"

Laura snorted again, louder this time. Logan shot her another look. "Laura."

"Sorry," she said, not sorry at all.

Sierra looked at Logan expectantly. "So how'd she get in there?"

Logan rubbed a hand over his face, sighing heavily. "Magic."

Sierra's eyes widened. "Magic?"

Laura laughed outright this time, ducking behind her comic to hide it.

You shot Logan an amused glance. "Really? Magic?"

Logan shrugged defensively. "You got somethin' better?"

You walked over, gently brushing Sierra’s hair back. "Babies come from love, sweetheart. When two grown-ups love each other very much, they decide they want a baby. Then one grows in the mommy’s tummy."

Sierra frowned thoughtfully. "Like planting flowers?"

Laura snorted loudly again. "I’m gonna die."

Logan leaned toward Laura, lowering his voice. "Keep it up, kid, and you’re gonna have this conversation next."

Laura immediately sobered, returning quietly to her comic.

"Sort of like planting flowers," you said gently. "A seed gets planted, and it grows into a baby."

"How does the seed get there?" Sierra asked, eyes big and curious.

Logan cleared his throat loudly, folding his paper. "I’m gonna go chop some firewood."

You shot him a pointed look. "Logan."

He sighed, looking resigned as he turned back to Sierra. "The seed... just gets put there."

Sierra narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "By who?"

Logan’s eye twitched slightly. "The... other grown-up."

You smiled sweetly at Logan. "Good job, honey."

He shot you a dry look. "Thanks."

Sierra seemed satisfied enough, nodding thoughtfully. "Oh. Okay."

Logan exhaled in relief, taking another careful sip of coffee. Laura smirked behind her comic.

"So, Daddy put the seed in your tummy when you had me?" Sierra asked suddenly, eyes brightening with realization.

Logan promptly choked again.

Laura burst out laughing. "Amazing."

Logan pointed a finger at her, voice rough. "Grounded. For real."

Sierra smiled happily, oblivious to Logan's distress. "Right, Mommy?"

You patted Sierra's head gently, trying not to laugh at Logan's red face. "That’s right, sweetheart."

Sierra grinned, returning to her drawing. "Daddy’s good at planting seeds."

Laura howled with laughter, dropping her comic. Logan groaned, covering his face with his hand.

You bit your lip, fighting back a laugh. "Maybe let’s talk about something else now."

"Please," Logan muttered weakly. "Anything else."

---

The next afternoon, Logan walked into the living room, wiping sweat from his forehead with the edge of his shirt. He paused when he saw you sitting cross-legged on the couch, sorting through a box of tiny baby clothes.

He raised an eyebrow. "Ain’t wastin’ time, huh?"

You glanced up, smiling softly. "Just figured I’d see what we still have from Sierra."

He stepped closer, peering into the box and reaching down to lift a small yellow onesie. His expression softened as he ran his thumb over the tiny fabric. "Forgot how little these things are."

You chuckled quietly. "You said that about Rachel."

"Yeah," he murmured. He looked up again, studying you carefully. "You feelin’ alright?"

You smiled reassuringly. "I'm good."

He nodded, thoughtful. "So we really doin' this, huh?"

You tilted your head playfully. "Second thoughts already?"

"Nah," he said, voice firm. "Just makin' sure you're sure."

"I'm sure," you said warmly, tugging gently at his hand until he sat beside you. "How about you?"

His eyes softened. "Darlin', I was sure the second I brought it up."

You leaned in, brushing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Good."

Logan wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he watched you fold a tiny shirt. After a quiet moment, he cleared his throat softly. "Laura asked me about it earlier."

You glanced up curiously. "What did she say?"

"Asked if we were really thinkin’ about another kid," he said. "Think she likes the idea."

"That's good," you said softly, smiling. "Sierra already acts like a mini-mom anyway."

He snorted gently. "She bossed me around for fifteen minutes earlier ‘bout how to feed Rocky. Pretty sure that dog ain’t listenin’ to anyone but her now."

You laughed quietly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Well, at least we know she’s ready to help."

He hummed softly, fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. "Yeah."

There was a comfortable silence between you, Logan's steady heartbeat soothing beneath your ear. Then—

"Mommy," Sierra said from the doorway, her expression deeply serious, "Rocky ate my crayons again."

Logan sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Told you, he don’t listen to anyone but her."

You chuckled softly, sitting up to look at Sierra. "How many did he eat?"

She held up her fingers. "Three. And one was blue."

Logan grunted, standing up with a resigned sigh. "I'll handle it."

"Thank you," you said sweetly, earning a faintly amused glance from him as he headed toward Sierra.

"You're lucky you’re cute," he muttered affectionately to Sierra, ruffling her hair gently as they disappeared into the hallway.

You smiled to yourself, settling back against the couch and resting a hand lightly on your stomach, already looking forward to the chaos ahead.

---

Just a week later, you got your period. You weren’t necessarily disappointed—you and Logan had only tried once.

You stepped out of the bathroom, catching Logan’s curious glance from where he sat on the bed, tying his boots.

"No luck?" he guessed.

You shrugged lightly, unbothered. "Not this month."

Logan raised a brow, mouth curling into a faint smirk. "Guess I'll have to try harder."

You snorted, rolling your eyes playfully. "Yeah, I guess you will."

He leaned back on the bed, studying you carefully. "You good?"

"Yeah," you assured him, stepping closer. "Took a few months with Sierra too, remember?"

"I remember," he said quietly, pulling you toward him until you settled comfortably against his chest. "I ain't worried."

You smiled, fingers playing lightly with his collar. "Neither am I."

He brushed his thumb along your hip. "Besides, practice makes perfect, right?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Always looking on the bright side."

"Hey," he teased, voice low and warm. "Never heard you complain."

You hummed, leaning up to kiss him lightly. "Guess we'll just have to try again."

"Exactly my plan," he muttered, lips brushing yours softly. "Tonight?"

“Mmh.” You scrunched your brows together. “No. Sorry, honey. I just wanna lay in bed and eat ice cream.”

Logan chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "Ice cream, huh?"

"Mmhm," you hummed, settling comfortably against his chest. "Salted caramel."

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Pretty sure Laura ate the last of that yesterday."

You groaned dramatically. "Seriously?"

"Yup," he said, voice low and amused. "Saw her sneakin’ the tub back into the freezer."

"She’s your kid," you muttered. "Stealin’ my ice cream."

"Our kid," Logan corrected, thumb stroking lightly along your side. "And Sierra steals your cookies."

You sighed heavily. "I never get anything around here."

Logan snorted. "Welcome to my world, darlin’."

You smiled faintly, tilting your head to look at him. "Can you go to the store?"

He raised an eyebrow. "For ice cream?"

"Yes."

"Right now?"

You gave him your best pleading look. "Please?"

Logan groaned softly, head dropping back against the pillows. "Fine."

You grinned, kissing him quickly. "You’re the best."

He rolled his eyes playfully, shifting you carefully off his chest as he stood. "I’ll remember this next time I need a favor."

You stretched lazily across the bed. "I’ll be here waiting."

Logan gave you an amused glance as he grabbed his keys from the dresser. "Don’t doubt it."

You heard his footsteps fading as he walked down the hall, followed by Sierra’s curious voice. "Daddy, where you goin’?"

"Your mom needs ice cream," Logan answered gruffly.

"Ooh," Sierra said excitedly. "Can I have some?"

"Nope," Logan said firmly. "You and your sister ate hers already."

There was a brief pause. Then Sierra called toward your room, voice filled with concern, "Sorry, Mommy!"

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. "It’s okay, baby!"

Then, the front door opened and shut, and a few seconds later, Laura’s head appeared in the doorway of your bedroom, eyebrows raised.

"Dad went out just for ice cream?" she asked skeptically.

You shrugged innocently. "He loves me."

Laura smirked. "You’re spoiled."

"Jealous?" you teased.

Laura shrugged lightly, a grin tugging at her lips. "Maybe."

You chuckled softly. "Good. You should be."

Laura shook her head, turning to leave. "I’ll tell Sierra to leave you alone ‘til he’s back."

"Thanks, Laura," you called after her.

A moment later, the house was quiet again, and you relaxed into the pillows, smiling to yourself. A quiet night, ice cream, and Logan—exactly what you needed.

---

A few nights later, the house was finally quiet. Laura and Sierra had both been asleep for at least an hour, and Rocky was curled up contentedly on his bed in the living room.

You stood by the kitchen sink, absently rinsing dishes from dinner, lost in thought until Logan’s hands slid around your waist, pulling you back gently against his chest.

“Kids asleep,” he murmured softly against your ear, voice low and warm.

You smiled, leaning into his warmth. “Mm. I noticed.”

His lips brushed the side of your neck, lingering softly. “Rocky’s passed out too.”

You laughed quietly. “You sound like you’re plotting something.”

“Maybe I am,” Logan muttered, teeth scraping lightly along your pulse point, making your breath hitch.

You set the dish down, water dripping off your fingers as you turned in his arms, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Feeling lucky tonight?”

His eyes darkened slightly, hands tightening around your hips. “Yeah, darlin’. Pretty damn lucky.”

You chuckled, fingertips brushing lightly along his jaw. “Confident.”

Logan’s mouth curved into a faint smirk. “Got every reason to be.”

He leaned down, capturing your mouth softly, the kiss slow and deep. You melted into him, fingers gripping his shirt as he pressed you back gently against the counter. When you finally broke apart, breathless, you smiled against his lips.

“Guess we should make the most of a quiet house,” you whispered.

“Exactly what I was thinkin’,” he agreed, voice rough.

He didn’t waste another second. Logan lifted you easily, setting you onto the counter and stepping between your legs. Your breath hitched as his hands slid beneath your shirt, tracing warm paths along your skin.

“You think tonight’s the night?” you asked quietly, eyes locked on his.

Logan smiled softly, brushing your hair from your face. “Hope so.”

You laughed, hooking your ankles around his waist and tugging him closer. “Then we better get started.”

Logan’s eyes sparked with amusement and heat. “Yes, ma’am.”

He leaned in again, kissing you hard and deep, hands gripping your hips firmly. You let yourself get lost in him, warmth curling low in your stomach as he pulled you flush against him, grinding slowly, deliberately, the friction making you gasp softly into his mouth.

He broke the kiss briefly, his voice ragged against your ear. “Gonna take this to the bedroom, darlin’. Counter ain’t exactly comfortable for what I got planned.”

You laughed breathlessly, fingers tangling in his hair. “Lead the way.”

He lifted you easily off the counter, keeping you wrapped securely around him. You pressed slow kisses along his neck, smiling against his skin as he carried you toward your room.

“Better lock the door,” you teased quietly.

“Way ahead of ya,” he muttered, kicking the door shut and clicking the lock into place.

You didn’t even get a word out before Logan’s mouth was on yours again—hot and demanding, like he hadn’t just had his hands all over you ten seconds ago. He walked you backward toward the bed without breaking the kiss, one hand gripping your ass, the other tangled in your hair.

By the time the backs of your knees hit the mattress, you were already gasping into his mouth, dizzy with heat. He eased you down onto the bed, crawling over you slow like a fucking wolf, all heat and weight and hunger.

You slid your hands up under his shirt, fingertips brushing hot skin and hard muscle. “Off,” you mumbled, tugging at the fabric.

Logan grinned against your neck. “Bossy tonight.”

“You love it.”

“Damn right I do.”

He sat back on his heels, yanking his shirt over his head in one smooth pull. You reached for your own, but he caught your wrists.

“Nuh-uh, lemme do it.”

His voice had gone low, dark—gravel scraped through honey. He peeled your shirt up slow, kissing every inch of skin he revealed. Stomach. Ribs. The underside of your breast. He paused there, nuzzling warm against you, lips dragging over the swell. You arched into him with a soft gasp, fingers tightening in the sheets.

Then he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, sucking slow, deep—just once—before switching to the other, tongue flicking in lazy circles until your breath hitched and your thighs rubbed together on instinct.

“Logan…”

“Shh. I got you.”

He kissed down your belly, thumbs hooking into your waistband, dragging your shorts and panties off in one slow pull. His gaze never left yours. Even with the heat low in his belly and the tension buzzing through his limbs, he wasn’t gonna rush a damn thing.

“You ready?” he asked, fingers trailing up the inside of your thigh.

You nodded, breath caught somewhere in your chest. “Please.”

That smug little smirk curved across his face, and he leaned in, kissing you again—soft this time, like he was savoring it—while his fingers slid down and dipped between your folds.

You moaned into his mouth, your hips rocking up as he rubbed slow circles over your clit, his fingers slick and teasing. Then he pushed one inside—slow and deep—and you gasped, clutching at his shoulders.

“Fuck—Logan—”

“That’s it,” he muttered, sucking on your bottom lip. “Already soaked for me. You really want this, huh?”

You nodded again, barely coherent. “Want you. Want you to fuck a baby into me.”

He groaned low, forehead dropping to yours. “Jesus, sweetheart…”

He added a second finger, curling them just right. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, body trembling as his fingers fucked into you slow and steady.

“I’m gonna knock you up tonight,” he growled, kissing down your throat again, biting at your collarbone. “Gonna make you a mama all over again. You’re gonna feel it, darlin’. Gonna know it took.”

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, your thighs clenching. “Logan—fuck—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he rasped. “Gimme one. Right here. All over my hand.”

He pressed his thumb against your clit and you broke—moaning, shaking, clinging to him like you’d fall apart without him. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers as you came, soaking his hand with a whimper that died against his shoulder.

He eased you through it, kissed the top of your head, then reached for the pillow, shoving it under your hips with practiced ease.

You blinked up at him, still breathless. “Logan—”

He was already stripping out of his sweats, his cock thick and flushed and heavy in his hand as he lined himself up, eyes locked on yours.

“You want it?” he asked, voice wrecked. “Want me to fill you up?”

You bit your lip and nodded, legs spreading wider. “Please.”

He sank into you with a deep, guttural groan, one hand gripping your thigh, the other planted beside your head. His body was hot, heavy, every thick inch of him pushing slow and steady until he bottomed out, hips flush against yours.

“Fuck,” he hissed, forehead resting against yours, breath hot. “This pussy’s gonna take all of me tonight, huh?”

You whimpered, legs wrapping tighter around his waist. “Always does…”

“Yeah?” He rocked his hips, slow, deep, grinding against your cervix until your back arched. “Gonna take my come too, sweetheart? Gonna let me put a baby in you?”

“God—yes,” you breathed, hands clutching at his back. “Wanna make you a daddy again.”

That sound he made—half growl, half moan—went straight through you. “Fuckin’ hell, you say that again and I ain’t gonna last long.”

“Do it,” you whispered, eyes locked on his. “Come inside me. Fill me up. Knock me up.”

Logan snarled, hips snapping forward, hard. “You filthy little thing… beggin’ to get bred.”

“I want it,” you gasped, breath catching with every ruthless thrust. “Need it.”

He fucked you harder then—rough, relentless, the bed creaking beneath the rhythm of his hips slamming into yours. His hand left your thigh and pressed against your belly, right above where he was buried inside you.

“Right here,” he growled. “Gonna fill you up so full you’ll feel it for days.”

You cried out, nails dragging down his back. “Please—Logan—fuck—don’t stop—”

“I ain’t stoppin’,” he panted, grinding down. “You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ good. This tight little cunt’s made to keep me in, yeah?”

You could barely breathe, every thrust knocking the air from your lungs, pleasure spiking sharp and high. “Gonna—gonna come—”

“Yeah?” He leaned in, mouth against your ear. “Then do it. Milk my cock, sweetheart. Get yourself good and ready to catch.”

You shattered around him, legs locking tight around his waist, your whole body pulsing as you screamed his name into his shoulder. He kept going, driving through your climax, chasing his own with that low, animal growl rising in his throat.

“Fuck—you’re squeezin’ me so tight—fuck—I’m gonna come—”

“Do it,” you begged. “Come inside me—please, baby, I need it—”

Logan slammed deep and stayed there, cock throbbing as he came hard, spilling into you with a choked moan, burying his face in your neck.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathed, body trembling. “That’s it—fuck, that’s it, take it all…”

You felt him twitch inside you, his come hot and thick, filling you until it leaked out around him.

He didn’t move for a long moment—just laid there, buried deep, one hand splayed across your lower belly like he could feel it taking.

Then he lifted his head, eyes half-lidded and dark. “That oughta do it.”

You gave him a dazed little smile. “Think you got it in one?”

Logan grinned, kissed you lazy and slow. “Maybe. But better be sure.”

His hand slid down, slow and sure, knuckles brushing between your legs—right where you were still stretched around him, messy and slick with the load he’d just pumped deep inside. His eyes stayed locked on yours as two fingers pressed to your swollen folds, spreading you open just enough to watch it drip out.

“Fuckin’ shame,” he muttered. “Wastin’ good it like that.”

You shivered, hips twitching as he eased a finger back inside, slow and deep. You gasped, back arching slightly. "Logan—"

"Shh," he murmured, voice low, gravel-smooth. “Lemme make sure it stays where it belongs.”

He added a second finger, thick and insistent, curling them inside you like he knew every sensitive spot by heart—and he did. His thumb rubbed lazy circles over your clit, just enough to make your breath catch, not enough to push you over yet.

Your hips rocked into the motion instinctively, body still greedy for more. “God… you’re not done with me?”

He snorted, lips brushing your cheek. “Sweetheart, I’m just gettin’ started.”

His fingers pumped slow, deliberate, his palm slick with a mix of your arousal and his come, still leaking out around his knuckles. You whimpered, clenching down on him, thighs shaking.

“You feel that?” he muttered, dragging his lips down your neck, letting his teeth scrape lightly across your skin. “That’s mine. All of it. Gonna keep pushin’ it in ‘til your body holds on tight.”

“Logan—fuck—” you moaned, legs spreading wider for him. “You’re gonna make me come again…”

“Good,” he growled. “I want you to. That sweet little pussy soaks me every damn time, ‘course you’re gonna come.”

He curled his fingers again, hitting just the right spot, and your whole body jerked, toes curling. You could hear the wet, obscene sound of it—his hand working between your legs, your pussy clenching greedily around him like it knew what he was trying to do.

“I can feel you pulsin’ around me,” he rasped, kissing down your chest. “Just like that. Keep squeezin’. Gonna milk it all up inside you.”

You bit your lip, desperate to hold it back, but your body had other plans. With a sharp cry, you came hard, thighs clamping around his wrist as your cunt spasmed around his fingers, milking them like it wanted to keep every drop of him inside.

“There it is,” he breathed, watching your face like it was the only thing that mattered. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn pretty when you come for me.”

You twitched beneath him, breath ragged, and Logan gently eased his fingers out, slick and dripping. He watched the mess on his hand for a second, then brought it to your mouth.

“Taste what you’re takin’ in,” he muttered.

You opened obediently, sucking his fingers between your lips, tasting salt and heat and something that made your whole body ache with want all over again.

He groaned, leaning in to kiss you slow, deep, filthy. “You’re gonna get pregnant from this,” he whispered against your mouth. “I fuckin’ know it.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, breath still catching in your throat. “Think so?”

He grinned, cocky and warm, brushing his fingers lightly over your belly. “I’d bet on it.”

You gave a tired, blissed-out laugh. “You always so sure of yourself?”

He nuzzled close, lips grazing your ear. “Only when I know I’m right.”

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑵𝑬 .    (  a  collection  of  texting prompts.  feel free to change phrasing.  potentially mature content within.  )

[ TXT ] : why are you still awake?

[ TXT ] : hey, where did you go?

[ TXT ] : it's getting bad again.

[ TXT ] : guess i'll just sit in bed. alone. by myself.

[ TXT ] : you can't ignore me forever.

[ TXT ] : i can't stop thinking about you.

[ TXT ] : just saw i called you last night. how'd that go?

[ TXT ] : i really need someone right now.

[ TXT ] : we need to make plans asap.

[ TXT ] : have you seen the news?

[ TXT ] : you were blackout drunk.

[ TXT ] : testing to see if you blocked my number...

[ TXT ] : do you know anything about doing stitches?

[ TXT ] : just please let me know you're okay.

[ TXT ] : did you forget we had plans?

[ TXT ] : i know you see my messages, your read receipts are on.

[ TXT ] : meet me at [ location ], it's important.

[ TXT ] : do you need comfort, to vent, or a solution?

[ TXT ] : is there anything i should bring?

[ TXT ] : call me. please, it's important.

[ TXT ] : i can't sleep.

[ TXT ] : have you eaten today?

[ TXT ] : you are always going to be my priority.

[ TXT ] : i haven't seen you around in awhile.

[ TXT ] : i had a dream about you last night.

[ TXT ] : the names are gonna get mean if you don't text me back.

[ TXT ] : at the risk of sounding cliche, what are you wearing?

[ TXT ] : just say the word and i'll drop everything.

[ TXT ] : do you seriously not remember?

[ TXT ] : come to the front door.

[ TXT ] : have you been drinking?

[ TXT ] : how do you feel after last night?

[ TXT ] : are you up? please be up.

[ TXT ] : you looked beautiful today.

[ TXT ] : i have so much to tell you.

[ TXT ] : no one's heard from you. are you okay?

[ TXT ] : who is this?

[ TXT ] : are you taking care of yourself?

[ TXT ] : thought i'd reach out and see how you're doing.

[ TXT ] : i miss the taste of your lips.

[ TXT ] : that kiss was really nice.

[ TXT ] : stop acting so high and mighty.

[ TXT ] : i left my [ item ] at your place.

[ TXT ] : are we still fighting?

[ TXT ] : i need help and i can't go to the hospital.

[ TXT ] : are you thinking about me too?

[ TXT ] : call me, i wanna hear your voice.

[ TXT ] : i don't want to talk to you.

[ TXT ] : what do you have to lose?

[ TXT ] : you don't have to ask, i'm already on my way.

[ TXT ] : i want to take a nap on you.

[ TXT ] : even if you called 6 months later at 3am, i'd answer.

[ TXT ] : what's my name in your phone?

[ TXT ] : how's trying to forget about me going?

[ TXT ] : i have nobody else to ask.

[ TXT ] : what do you mean you're at the hospital??

[ TXT ] : sorry, i think you have the wrong number.

[ TXT ] : good morning! you up yet?

[ TXT ] : do i sense sarcasm in your tone?

[ TXT ] : you start your day at 2pm?

[ TXT ] : you need MY help?

[ TXT ] : stop texting me.

[ TXT ] : i'll leave that up to your imagination.

[ TXT ] : are you asking me to sneak out?

[ TXT ] : when will i see you again?

[ TXT ] : if you come over, i'll order us a pizza.

[ TXT ] : are we ever going to talk about it?

[ TXT ] : can you come get me out of here?

[ TXT ] : you mean like ... a BODY - body?

[ TXT ] : it's just been one thing after another lately.

[ TXT ] : forgiving and forgetting is harder than it sounds.

[ TXT ] : i want your legs wrapped around my head.

[ TXT ] : call me when you wake up.

[ TXT ] : what are you doing that's more important than me?

[ TXT ] : i'm out of town right now.