#lots of notes for anytime i use it in the future

[casperrscapes]

my first time drawing chongyun :') i hope i did him some justice?

[flowersforbucky]

where the lines overlap

logan howlett x reader (dofp!logan x mutant!reader)

word count: 8.7k

summary: no one gets under your skin quite as much as logan howlett - and he knows it, too. sex pollen trope.

warnings/tags: 18+ only mdni, smut, sex pollen so dub con, frenemies to lovers? they aren't enemies but logan and reader don't really get along, reader is a mutant with pyrokinesis, reader is afab, reader is described as being smaller than logan, no use of y/n, wet dream, fuck or die situation, oral, pet names (bub, princess), brief pain kink for logan, unprotected p in v, cream pie

author's note: takes place after the events of days of future past - so everyone's alive, charles is old af, and logan has a pretty streak of silver in his hair. not proofread super well so please ignore any errors.

There's certain things that you like to think about when you're pissed off. It’s a coping mechanism that you learned in therapy at the ripe age of eleven.

Go to your happy place or whatever.

For you, that's the mansion's courtyard after a fresh snowfall, and having the library all to yourself on a rainy day, and the comfort of your bedroom on one of the rare days that you aren’t teaching, or training, or on a mission.

At this point in your life, you’ve forgotten just about everything you were taught in that therapist's office. It's not like you had wanted to be there, but your parents had been worried and scared – and rightfully so. With the unexpected emergence of your pyrokinetic abilities came multiple accidental house fires born out of preteen angst.

So they did the only thing they knew to do at the time – stick you in therapy in hopes you would acquire some anger management techniques.

These days, you have a pretty good handle on your powers. With a lot of time and effort, you learned to control them – and not just control them, but yield them in a beneficial and productive way.

All of that progress comes dangerously close to going out the window anytime you're in close proximity to Logan Howlett.

Maybe all is an exaggeration – but no one else makes your fingertips burn hot with fire that threatens to break through the barrier of your skin quite like him. From his bossiness to his arrogance and attitude, you’ve clashed heads since the first day you met him.

Today is no different.

“Don’t use so much force.”

You curse as the tip of the blade impales the target a whopping three inches from the center. By far your worst throw yet, though this one isn’t entirely your fault.

You snap your head towards the unexpected but familiar voice, pulling your last dagger from the holster secured around your thigh before chucking it in his general direction. It flies past him, bouncing off the wall behind him.

You knew that it wouldn’t actually hit him. And if by some miracle it had, he’d heal in two seconds and then go right back to being a pain in your ass.

A good looking pain in your ass, admittedly. But a pain in your ass nonetheless.

He looks at you with an amused expression. “See? Too much force.”

“I didn’t know that having giant forks for hands made you an expert on throwing knives.”

He exhales a breathy laugh, staring at you for several seconds before turning to pick the dagger up from the ground. He then proceeds to collect the rest of the knives that you had previously thrown from the body of the practice target.

In heavy silence, he struts over to you with the daggers in hand. He turns to face a wooden target board, finding the balance point of the knife before sending it flying through the air.

Bullseye.

“A long time ago, when I first joined this team, Charles made me practice a non-power related method of self-defense, too.” He pauses, lining the second dagger up with the practice dummy. To no surprise, it’s another perfect throw.

“Wanna guess what I chose?”

You snatch the remaining knife out of his hand.

“How to annoy someone by sneaking up on them and giving them unsolicited advice while they are minding their own business?”

You position your feet once again, holding the knife up in preparation to take aim. Your eyes dart back and forth between the blade and the target ahead of you. You hesitate, feeling nervous under his gaze.

Logan moves from standing beside you, to standing behind you. Your breath catches in your throat as his large figure looms over you. If he were to took a step forward, his chest would brush against your back.

He uses the tip of his boot to nudge your heel forward half an inch, adjusting your stance. He takes your right hand in his, and you have to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

A wave of annoyance washes over you that he’s able to fluster you so easily. It makes you as pissed at yourself as it does him. He’s barely touching you – his hand dwarfing yours is the only point of physical contact, but you’d think that he were pinning you up against a wall with his body.

You tell yourself the sudden light-headedness and increased heartrate is because of the newfound closeness, and nothing more. You’re used to being around Logan – the two of you live together and work together. His general presence is nothing new. But the intimacy of your current predicament is.

And maybe the fact that notes of tobacco and bourbon are infiltrating your senses doesn’t help.

“As unsolicited as my advice may be,” he says lowly as he pulls your hand back slightly, “I give it because if there is ever a situation where someone's trying to hurt you, and you’re unable to light them on fire for some reason, I would really hope that you could at least impale them.”

He tightens his hold on your hand, and then snaps both of your wrists forward. Surprisingly, your brain registers to release your grip just in time. When the tip of the blade impales the center of the target perfectly, he drops your hand.

But he doesn’t move from behind you.

“Much better. Now come back upstairs. Charles needs to see all of us in his office.”

••••••

You and Logan are the last people to enter Charles’ office.

Storm, Scott, Jean, Marie, and Bobby have all found places to sit throughout the small room. Logan chooses to lean against the door that clicks shut behind him, while you exhale in relief at the sight of an empty chair on the opposite side of the room, next to Marie.

“Ah, how nice of you two to join us,” Charles greets. “I was starting to think that Logan got lost on his way to retrieve you.”

You force out a laugh, earning a side-eye from Marie as Charles launches back into whatever he had been in the middle of before you two interrupted.

“Everything okay?” Marie murmurs to you. “You looked a little sick when you walked in.”

“Oh, yeah,” you shrug her off without looking at her. You keep your eyes on Charles. “Yeah, I'm just tired. Been training all morning.”

What were you supposed to tell her? That you were thankful to be wearing a tactical suit so that Logan couldn’t see all of the goosebumps that bloomed across your skin when he was practically breathing down your neck less than five minutes ago? Or that the walk back up to Charles’ office was filled with a loaded silence in place of your usual bickering and banter?

Marie might be one of your closest friends, and you trust her, but Logan is something of a fatherly figure to her. There’s no way you’re letting her hear those words come from your mouth.

You try your hardest to focus on all of the information that Charles throws at you. You’re all to leave on a mission early tomorrow morning. When he explains where you’re going and why, chills run down your spine.

Alberta, Canada – more specifically, Alkali Lake. All of your friends seem to tense up at the mere mention of the place.

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, fighting the urge to sneak a glance to try to gauge Logan's reaction. You’ve never been to Alkali Lake before, and you’re far from excited about going – you can only imagine how he feels, given his history with the abandoned military base.

After no word of any activity surrounding the base for years, Charles had been made aware that the recent disappearance of a group of young adult humans had been traced back to Alkali Lake – to a modern day subsidiary of the group Weapon X.

The same group responsible for Logan’s skeleton being made from adamantium.

This, of course, is where all of you come in.

After a detailed rundown of the goals for tomorrow – the main one being safe extraction of the humans – Charles dismisses all of you to rest for the remainder of the day.

When everyone stands up, you finally risk glancing at Logan, but he’s already opening the door to Charles’ office and strutting away.

••••••

Thick stubble scratches your innermost thighs as sharp teeth and soft lips alternate between kissing and biting the sensitive flesh between your legs.

His face is covered in your slick from the three orgasms he’s already pulled from you with his tongue. He lays nestled between your legs, pinning you to the mattress beneath you. Your thighs rest across his shoulders, his hands splayed across your belly.

You're putty in his hands.

“I've gotta say, the sounds you make when you cum are way cuter than the sounds I'm used to hearing from you,” Logan muses against your cunt. His voice sends a vibration over your already overstimulated core.

You can only guess that the sounds he’s referring to are annoyed sighs and you telling him to shut the fuck up, but right now, you don't care enough to ask for any clarification.

“Yeah?” You yelp when his tongue flicks against your swollen clit. “Maybe if you spent less time pissing me off you’d get to—”

You're cut off by him plunging the tip of his index finger inside you. You writhe against him, your walls constricting around the digit.

“Less time pissing you off, more time letting you fuck my fingers and face. Got it.”

The slamming of a door somewhere outside of your room causes you to bolt upright in your bed.

You open your eyes to darkness except for the red glow of the numbers on your digital alarm clock that read 12:26 in the morning. Your heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of your chest, and your skin is clammy with a thin layer of sweat. You throw your covers away from you in an attempt to cool yourself off.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck—”

You whisper the three words to yourself over and over again until your breathing resumes a normal pattern.

You’re alone, of course. In the comfort of your private room, where you had fallen asleep several hours ago. The difference between now and then is an uncomfortable pool of wetness between your legs, soaking your underwear.

You can’t even recall the last time you had such a vivid sex dream. It felt utterly lifelike – you reach down between your legs, trailing your fingers over the skin of your inner thighs where you had felt his beard tickle and tease you.

How the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow, when you’re having to work together to rescue humans from Alkali Lake? How are you supposed to come up with smart-ass remarks for his endless taunting and teasing when you’re going to be trying your hardest to not replay the images of his hazel eyes looking up at from between your thighs?

“Get a fucking grip,” you whisper hiss to yourself.

It’s Logan. The same Logan who acted like he was too good to say more than ten words to you the first half a year that you were with the team. The same Logan that tries to get you benched for the dumbest, smallest reasons he can think of. The same Logan that condescendingly calls you kid or princess every chance he gets because he knows it gets under your skin.

You need a glass of water. And some fresh air, and a cold shower—

You start by picking up the pair of sweatpants that you’d discarded before falling asleep a few hours ago. You step back into them, deciding to trek to the kitchen for some ice water. Your mouth feels as dry as cotton.

As you approach the end of the hallway that leads from the team member's bedrooms to the kitchen, you hear the soft shuffling of footsteps and see low lighting that spills from the refrigerator.

As soon as you step into the kitchen, you come to a halt. You recognize the large frame standing in front of the open fridge right away.

Of fucking course it would be him. And of fucking course he wouldn’t be wearing a shirt.

You clear your throat to announce your presence, not quite trusting your voice to speak. He looks at you over his shoulder, a bottle of beer pressed to his lips.

You walk over to the cabinet beside him, keeping your eyes off of him entirely as you get a glass.

“What's got you awake at this hour?” He closes the fridge, leaning back against the edge of the countertop. The only light in the room now comes from the small, dim bulb above the sink.

If he only fucking knew, you think. If he only knew that the real reason you are out of bed right now is because you’d just woken up from an extremely graphic, jarring dream of you riding his face.

You fill the cup up with cold water from the kitchen sink and take a large swig before once again turning to face him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” you answer with a vague gesture to his half-dressed form and beer bottle.

He takes in your appearance, too. His eyes trail from your exposed feet, to your baggy sweatpants, and up to your even baggier t-shirt before settling on your face. You feel particularly vulnerable under his gaze right now. You compare how you look to how he looks – with his stupid abs that look like God himself chiseled them from stone and his sweatpants that hang just a little too comfortably.

You sip on your water just to keep from biting your lip.

“Guess we were both thirsty,” he shrugs as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Guess so,” you hum, and because you don’t want to fall into an awkward silence and it’s the only thing you can think to add, you say, “Nervous about the mission?”

His expression darkens and posture tenses at your question. “I am,” he admits. “And if you knew as much as I do about that place, you’d be nervous, too.”

You huff. Your grip tightens around the glass in your hand at the mere insinuation that he knows your feelings. “Who says that I’m not?”

“If you’re going, you’re not nervous enough.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You take a deep breath, knowing damn well the direction that this conversation is headed. You’d heard it all from him before – anything to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Of course I’m going, Logan. Whether you think I’m good at it or not, it’s my job.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re good at your job. It’s about experience—”

You laugh, cutting him off. You can feel the telltale warmth of fire beginning to form beneath the tips of your fingers, your irritation threatening to bubble over.

“Experience?” you exclaim. “Do I need to remind you that I’ve been with this team for three years now? Just because I’m not two hundred years old like you doesn’t mean that I don’t have experience.”

“I’m very aware of how long you’ve been with this team, bub,” he says calmly, which makes you all the more heated.

“For three years you’ve spewed every bullshit reason you can think of to keep me on the sidelines,” you laugh. “I wish you’d fucking admit that you just don’t like me. It’d be a lot more respectable than acting like you’re worried about—”

Logan’s gaze drops to the glass in your hand, making you come to an abrupt pause. You follow his stare, realizing that you’ve managed to melt the glass where your fingertips grip the glass. Water begins to leak out from the holes, spilling onto your sweatpants and the floor below you.

There’s no visible flames emanating from your fingertips. Your anger hadn’t progressed to full on fire, just intense heat, but still. No one else makes you come as close to losing control as him.

No one. And he seems to know it, too. You can tell by the smug look on his face.

You dump what little liquid is left into the sink before chucking the distorted glass into the garbage.

You start to storm past him, to get away from him and go back to your room without another word, when he grabs you by the wrist. You look at him in bewilderment – this is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that he has held your hand in his.

“Didn’t know you were so hot and bothered over me,” he says with an amused smirk.

You rip your hand away from him, an exaggerated look of disgust on your face. Your recent dream pops into your head and you have to remind yourself that he’s not Jean or Charles – he can’t read your mind.

“You're lucky that you've got those handy healing powers,” you spit as you once again begin exiting the kitchen. “If I thought there was a chance of it actually shutting you up, I’d burn more than just Charles’ vintage glassware.”

You hear him say your name, but you’re already speed walking back to your room and playing your list of happy place thoughts on a loop in your head.

The soup that Storm makes when everyone at the school seems to get sick at the same time. One of your younger students picking you a flower. The smell of fresh laundry, the crisp pages of a new book.

Finally, your bedroom door clicks shut behind you.

You would have been better off just enduring the discomfort of a dry throat, you think. You don't know what's worse – not being able to sleep because you're rattled from a wet dream about him, or not being able to sleep because you've once again allowed him to get under your skin.

You crawl back under your covers, hoping that when you close your eyes, you don't see his face again.

••••••

Logan doesn’t make any more appearances in your dreams for the rest of the night, but that doesn’t stop him from being the first thing you think of when you open your eyes in the morning.

And as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, the only thing on your mind the entire flight from New York to Alberta.

From the tension that filled the air when he corrected your knife throwing technique yesterday morning to the warmth of his calloused hand when he grabbed you by the wrist in the kitchen last night, you're fighting a losing battle with no one but yourself.

As far as you can tell, he’s utterly unaffected. The fact that he chose to sit directly in front of you on the jet instead of any of the other empty seats says as much.

Not even ten minutes into the flight, you're staring at the tufts of his hair and his broad shoulders when you have to remind yourself that there's two telepaths occupying this jet with you. Though you trust both Charles and Jean to not read your mind without cause, the mere possibility of either one of them accidentally tuning into your thoughts and seeing a replay of your most recent dream or hearing you think about what it would be like to tug on those stupid fucking tufts of hair that resemble kitten ears is enough to mortify you.

You find yourself grateful that you brought a book and headphones with you to distract yourself for the duration of the trip.

An eerie feeling creeps into your bones as soon as you step onto the hanger of the jet. You can’t deny that the scenery surrounding the military base is beautiful – from the snowcapped mountains to the frost covered lake, it’s picturesque. But then your gaze settles on the large dam, and you remember what lies beneath.

“Can't say that I've missed this place,” Logan grunts, drawing your attention to him. His face is impassive other than his mouth being set in a hard, straight line as he stares out towards the water.

It's rare for Logan to elicit feelings outside of burning irritation (and maybe, possibly, sometimes arousal) from you – but right now, there’s a part of you that wishes the dynamic between the two of you were different.

As much as he infuriates you, you still care about him. You wish you could say that you didn’t, but the fact that you feel the urge to reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze makes that pretty hard to deny.

That urge dissipates as quickly as it comes over you. The bitter chill of the mountain wind and your teammates voices pull you back to reality. You awkwardly fiddle with one of the daggers strapped to your thigh instead.

“Jean and Scott, the two of you take the west side of the building,” Charles instructs when the group nears the discreet entrance. “Bobby and Rogue, clear the east wing. Storm and I will be keeping watch outside to make sure that no one tries to escape with the humans.”

“What about us?” you ask with a slight nod towards Logan. The fact that neither of you had been given instructions yet leaves it to be assumed that you’ll be paired up together.

You and Logan working as a pair was nothing out of the ordinary, and although that typically comes with a lot of annoyance, right now you can’t help but feel a little relieved by it.

Even if you are still irritated at him for his behavior and choice of words in the kitchen last night and even if you do think of him between your thighs every time you look at him for more than five seconds, he’s still more familiar with this place than anyone else here.

And no matter how much he makes you want to tear your hair out, there's never a time that you feel unsafe when he's near.

“You and Logan are to inspect the basement,” Charles answers. “I trust that you can refrain from melting any antique personal property until we are back at the mansion, my dear,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“I was planning on paying you back for that,” you mumble.

“No,” Charles sighs. “You weren't. It was very expensive.”

Logan snorts, earning curious glances from everyone other than you and Charles. He does get a nasty side-eye from you – a silent promise to deliver on last night’s threat to find something to burn other than vintage glassware.

Your teammates split up into their respective groups upon entering the base, leaving you to follow Logan's lead towards the lower levels.

It’s unsettling just how silent it is. The only sounds are that of yours and Logan's boots against the ground. You'd be able to hear a pin drop from across the building.

And it's cold. The kind of cold that makes your bones ache. You instinctively flex your fingers, focusing on the warmth that radiates from the tips.

As the two of you make your way through the dark, seemingly endless basement, checking each room for signs of life, you can't help but think of Logan being here under much different circumstances.

You don't know the full extent of his time here – even he only remembers bits and pieces. But you know enough to know that this can’t be easy for him.

The fact that he's being uncharacteristically quiet only reaffirms that. He makes none of his typical taunts and jabs, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

You find yourself damn near wishing he’d make some snide comment about how you’re walking too loudly and how being partnered up with you feels like babysitting duty – if he did, maybe then you wouldn’t feel this annoying, persistent worry over his mental well-being.

“Logan,” you begin quietly as the two of you approach a large set of hospital style double doors at the end of a corridor. “I know being here can't be easy for you. I'm sorry that you have to be.”

He huffs a laugh under his breath, not meeting your eyes as he slowly pushes one of the doors open, peaking into the room before stepping inside and holding the door open for you.

“Just part of the job, bub,” he sighs. “I know what I signed up for.”

You enter, walking past him into the dark room. You shine your flashlight around the cramped space. Right away, you can tell that it’s vacant, as all of the other rooms you’ve checked have been. But it’s different – whereas most of the rooms have been completely empty, this one contains multiple twin sized beds. No frames, no pillows, just plain white sheets on each one.

“I know you do. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and he shines his own flashlight around the room from right behind you.

“It’s okay, princess,” he snorts. “I’m a big boy. You don’t gotta pretend to be worried about me.”

Princess. Your fingertips tingle as soon as the pet name leaves his lips.

“I’m not pretend—”

The sudden, loud clicking of a deadbolt echoes through the room, silencing you. You and Logan stare at each other for a brief moment, startled and confused, before he turns around and pushes on the double doors to no avail.

He slams the full weight of his body against the metal, but it doesn't budge.

“What the fuck,” he growls in between repeated strikes against the doors.

“Logan and I are locked in a room in the basement,” you say as you click on the communication device in your left ear. “The door automatically locked after we came inside. We can’t get it open—”

You’re met with white noise.

“My fucking comm isn’t working.” Panic begins to set in as you yank the device out of your ear to inspect it. There’s a small green light indicating that it is on, but for whatever reason, it isn’t getting signal.

“Scott? Storm? Can anyone hear us?” Logan says as he messes with his own communication device. “Nothing,” he grunts after a moment of silence.

“Professor? Jean? If either of you are listening, now would be a great time to poke around in our brains and let us know.”

Nothing indeed.

“Okay,” Logan says as he backs away from the double doors. “Blast them.”

“Blast them?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “They’re industrial metal doors. They’re like two feet thick. These walls are made out of concrete.” You bang your first against the rock solid wall for emphasis. “What the fuck do you think fire is—”

“I don’t hear you suggesting anything!”

“How about not setting the room we are trapped in on fire? Only one of us has regenerative—”

A loud hissing noise sounds from above, causing you and Logan to both point your flashlights up towards the ceiling. You squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. Large vents make up well over fifty percent of the ceiling, releasing what appears to be a fog like substance. It quickly transforms the air above you into one large, milky looking cloud.

“Charles! Storm! Scott – we need help. Quickly, we need help. I don’t know what’s going—”

You continue to shout into the communication device while Logan alternates between punching the door with his fists and throwing the full weight of his body against the metal, but all of your efforts are futile. The doors don’t budge, and you hear nothing but static from the comm.

You frantically glance around the room, looking for another escape route. There’s no other doors, and no windows. You’re completely enclosed by the four concrete walls and the impenetrable metal doors.

“Hold your breath!” Logan shouts as the fog descends upon the two of you, but it’s too late. The sickeningly sweet smelling mist encompasses you, making it impossible to see anything other than the thick silver vapor. It infiltrates your nostrils, causing you to gag. You cough, desperately trying to clear your airway of the substance.

It burns – your throat, your nostrils, your eyes and skin. Anywhere that it comes in contact with you feels like pins and needles.

You’re vaguely aware that Logan is somewhere to your left, asking if you’re okay in-between coughs and gags of his own. You can’t catch your breath well enough to answer him.

His hand clasps around the top of your arm. Your vision goes fuzzy and you collapse into him, light-headed from the profuse coughing.

“I think it’s dissipating,” Logan whispers in a strained voice, still supporting you so that you don’t fall to the floor. You risk cracking your eyes open the slightest bit, and realize that he’s right. There’s still a veil of mist surrounding you, but it’s no longer so opaque that you can’t see even two inches in front of your face.

You take deep breaths, making no effort to step away from him as you attempt to regain control of your breathing. Your lungs feel like they are on fire and your throat feels like you haven’t had any water in days.

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice comes out as a croak.

“Can you stand?” he asks you. You nod, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace.

As soon as he steps away from you to see if the doors are still locked, the momentary relief that you felt when the fog began to dissipate is replaced with renewed terror. The room, which was previously dark except for the light from your flashlights, suddenly glows a deep red color from the ceiling that now emits crimson fluorescence.

You open your mouth to call out for Charles or Jean again, when a throbbing sensation radiates throughout your gut. You clutch your hands over your abdomen, gasping at the sudden and awkward feeling.

Logan turns his attention away from the doors and back to you as soon as he notices how you’re hunched over. You stumble over to the bed that's closest to you, the world blurring around you in shades of red.

“Something is wrong,” you gasp out. You know you're stating the obvious – something has been wrong since the moment that the doors locked behind you.

He's next to you in two long strides, kneeling beside the bed and looking up at you in concern. The ache in your lower belly seems to worsen with his close proximity. Your skin feels feverish, making you want to peel your tactical suit off of your body.

“Tell me what you're feeling,” he demands. Other than obvious confusion and fear, he appears physically fine. You piece together that whatever that shit was, it’s effecting you much differently than it is him – undoubtedly due to his healing abilities.

You can't form a coherent sentence – all you can focus on is the way that the discomfort in your abdomen travels down to your groin, making you clench your thighs together. You have the inexplicable desire to reach out and pull him to you, as if having him as close as possible to you is the only solution for every uncomfortable thing happening to you.

“You gotta talk to me, bub. Tell me what’s going on,” he says when you don’t answer him. He puts a hand just above your knee and you have to hold back the whimper that threatens to break through your lips. He notices your pained expression and quickly withdraws his hand from your thigh.

“No!” you gasp, grabbing his hand in yours out of desperation to maintain some level of physical contact with him. “I – I don't know how to explain what’s happening. Just – I just need you to keep touching me. Please. Whatever that fog was, it’s making me feel like…”

You trail off, realizing that you must sound every bit as insane as you feel. You don’t know how to begin articulating what’s happening to you, because it makes no sense. When the silver mist first started to rain down from the ceiling, the last thing on your mind was Logan pinning you to one of these mattresses and railing you until you until you see stars. Now, you think that if he so much as stops holding your hand, you'll fucking die.

A look of clarity washes over Logan’s face – with a hint of something else that you can't quite pinpoint, too.

“I think I know what this is,” he murmurs. His stare is locked on one of the daggers strapped to your thigh. He squeezes your hand in his, though you don’t know if it’s to comfort you or himself.

“I’ve heard of this before. Didn’t know it actually exists. I came across it once when preparing a lesson on Alkali Lake—”

“What is it?” you implore.

His eyes finally flicker back up to yours. Images of last night’s dream flash through your mind again. Instead of his hand holding yours, you visualize his slender fingers pumping inside you. You stare at his lips, imaging the feeling of them sucking love bites into the meat of your inner thighs –

“It’s a chemical created for breeding experiments,” he answers after a pregnant pause. “They – Weapon X – wanted super mutants. Some of the subjects were… less than compliant. This made it so that they weren’t able to fight it.”

You let his words sink in. It’s not something you’ve ever heard of, but you don’t doubt that what he’s saying is true. How could you, with the way that your pussy is throbbing at the mere sound of his voice? Under normal circumstances, you might not read too far into that. But right now? On a mission, locked in a creepy basement, unable to get in contact with your teammates?

“Weren’t able to fight it,” you repeat slowly. “You're saying there’s only one way out of this.”

He doesn’t answer – just looks at you with sympathy. With pity.

“No,” you shake your head. You yank your hand from his grasp and move back across the mattress as the gravity of the situation hits you. To distance yourself from him feels like ripping air out of your own lungs, but the alternative is borderline unthinkable.

“I can’t – won’t ask that of you,” you declare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that laughs at you, as if saying it’s cute that you think you have a choice. The pain and longing grow with each passing second, threatening to consume you from the inside out.

“You’re fine. It would be different if it was both of us. But you shouldn’t have to do this just because you're stuck here with me.”

“Have to? You make it sound like it would be a punishment for me,” he chuckles darkly. He finally rises from where he had been kneeling next to the bed. He stands beside the mattress, looming over you in the maroon lighting.

“Let’s not overcomplicate this, princess,” he murmurs. He grasps your face in his palm and tilts your head to look up at him. His touch is a balm – it feels like running a burn under a cold stream of water.

“I'm gonna take care of you, and then you can go right back to tolerating my existence.” He runs the calloused pad of his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the sensation of the singular digit against your flesh.

“Besides, it’s not like you haven’t dreamed about this. Or were you moaning about someone else who just happens to have the same name as me last night?”

Your eyes shoot open at the revelation that not only had you said his name in your sleep, but he’d fucking heard you. And has the nerve to tease you about it at a time like this.

He's smirking down at you. His smugness irritates you often, but right now it’s enough to cause the tips of your fingers to burn hot. You jerk his hand away from your face, causing him to hiss when your fingers wrap around his wrist.

He chortles, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. The reaction fills you with annoyance – of course he would have a fucking pain kink.

As much as it pisses you off, it also spurs you on. Blame the influence of the chemicals that you’re currently under, but the fact that he can so easily tolerate and even enjoy something that would have anyone else running in the opposite direction does something to you.

You’re past the point of finding it in you to care about consequences. You’re no longer thinking about how you’ll be able to look him in the eye when this is over, or how you’ll pretend like everything is perfectly normal when the two of you are back on the jet with your teammates.

Maybe you can fight this drug, or maybe he’s right and there’s no point in trying. Either way, you’ve decided that you're going to have him before you leave this room.

You drop his hand, bringing yours to the zipper at the neckline of your tactical suit. You slowly tug it downwards, gauging his expression as he watches you expose your chest and stomach.

For once, he’s all out of smart remarks.

A part of you feels a sense of satisfaction and wants to continue taking your time with undressing yourself, just to keep him looking at you like this – but every fiber of your being is screaming at you for more.

You waste no more time with shoving the restrictive Kevlar material down your arms, leaving you in only your bra from the waist up. Logan unfreezes at the sight, crawling onto the bed on his knees. You maneuver yourself so that you’re laying flat against the mattress, pulling him down with you.

He rips the fabric of your bra away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. He rolls it between his tongue and teeth, causing you to arch your back into his touch. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, pinning yourself to the mattress with his body. You mewl at the feeling of your pebbled nipple in his warm mouth.

His other hand attempts to free the opposite breast, but the fabric is too tight and restrictive. He let’s out an annoyed growl, pulling back to unsheathe his claws and snip the material in between your tits, letting them spill free.

“Hey! I loved that bra—”

Your complaint dies in your throat when he slates his lips over yours.

There’s nothing slow or sensual about the way that he kisses you. He slips his tongue past your lips, moving his lips with fervency and urgency – like he needs this as badly as you do.

You buck your hips up into him, desperate for any amount of friction. He grinds down against you, his erection evident even through the thick material of both of your tactical suits.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss to unzip your suit the rest of the way down. He peels it down your thighs, only stopping to discard your boots. When you’re left in only your underwear, he looks at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So, what exactly was I doing in your dream to have you saying my name like that, huh?” he asks as he toys with the waistband of your panties.

You roll your eyes, your patience growing thinner as the ache in your belly grows stronger. He can tease you about that all he wants when you’re back in the safety of the mansion, when you’re no longer under the influence of potentially life threatening chemicals and capable of thinking of a proper comeback.

“Shut up and eat me out.”

His smirk only grows, but he doesn’t tease you any further. He tugs your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. He lowers himself onto his stomach, still fully dressed. Under less dire circumstances, you would’ve been eager to get him out of his clothes, too – but right now, your highest priority is feeling his mouth on you.

No wet dream could have prepared you for how euphoric it actually feels for his teeth to nip at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, or the way that his tongue draws lazy circles at your hole before his lips lock around your clit.

You writhe against him, chasing the release that you’ve been desperate for since the second the vapor first came in contact with your skin. He’s more than generous, expertly nursing at your swollen bud as he eases a slender finger inside your cunt.

One finger – that’s all it takes to feel your climax building, the coil in your lower belly tightening. You feel your walls pulse around the digit as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even try to hold back your cries and praises of pleasure, letting him know how good he’s making you feel.

When he sits back, his lips and beard glisten with your slick in the red glow that encases you both. You push yourself into a sitting position and reach for the zipper of his suit, antsy to shed his clothing now that your physical discomfort had been quelled – at least for the time being.

He helps you, shrugging out of his vest and tugging his undershirt over his head. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but never shirtless for you. You want to dig your nails into the planes of his chest, and run your tongue along the protruding vein that disappears beyond the waistline of his pants –

You undo his belt buckle and pop open the button of his pants before hastily yanking both his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs free, bobbing inches before your face. You start to adjust your position on the bed – to get on your knees and take him in your mouth – when a low chuckle causes you to pause and look up at him.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, earning a confused pout from you.

“You don’t want me to suck your dick?” You ask with raised brows.

“S’not about me right now, bub. I said I was gonna take care of you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Now lay back down for me.”

You aren’t going to argue with that.

You return to your original position on the mattress, pulling him down with you. He hovers above you, using one arm to support himself on the bed. He takes his cock in his free hand, stroking his length a few times before nudging his head through your folds until he’s lubricated in your juices.

“Don’t you worry, though,” he murmurs against your lips. He teases his tip at your hole. “If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I'll let you.”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtfu—”

He sheaths himself inside you, turning the end of your retort into a gasp. He fills you entirely, stilling to allow both of you time to adjust to the sensation. The stretch is damn near blinding, making your eyes roll back into your skull. You glance down between your bodies, halfway expecting to see him jutting out of your stomach.

He fucks you similarly to how he kisses you – like this is saving him as much as it is you. It's rough, and fast, and messy – and you dread the moment that it’s over.

No one has ever filled you as completely and perfectly as him. You don’t think anyone else ever will, again.

Each drag of his cock along your walls has you clenching around him, each time his head rams against your cervix you can’t help but cry his name.

He snakes his hand in between you, reaching down to where his body collides with yours. His thumb massages over your sensitive clit.

You rake your nails down his back and he hisses in approval, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace.

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess,” he grunts before kissing you again.

You don't have time to overthink the sentiment before your second orgasm is washing over you. Logan cums as soon as he feels your pussy pulsating around him, fucking you until he's spilled every last drop of his warm seed deep inside you. When you're both finished, he stills inside you and rests his sweat-slicked forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

“You think it worked?” he grunts.

As if on cue, you hear the deadbolt unlock from the other side of the room. A second later, Storm’s voice sounds from your communication device that had fallen to the floor at some point.

“I don't feel like there’s a ticking time bomb inside my vagina anymore. So, I’d say yeah, it worked.”

He huffs a laugh, and then pulls out of you with a sigh.

“Logan,” you say, stopping him before he can pull away from you entirely. He stares down at you, waiting for you to continue.

You aren’t even sure what to say. Truthfully, you just weren’t ready for the moment to end and for things to go back to normal between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you spit out after a moment of loaded silence. “For… helping me,” you finish lamely.

“Don’t thank me, bub,” he chuckles. “It’s far from the worst thing that's happened to me in this place.”

••••••

You sleep the entire flight back to New York.

And as soon as you've showered and your head hits the pillow after returning home to the mansion, you sleep for another ten hours. Every time you wake up and think that you're finally well-rested, your body says otherwise and you're asleep again within minutes.

You wish you could say it’s a dreamless sleep, but that would be a lie. You see Logan’s face every time you close your eyes.

But it's different than the last dream you had of him. It isn’t images of his head between your thighs or his fingers slipping in and out of you.

It’s just.. him. His presence. The lingering feeling of his lips on yours, the light flavor of tobacco and menthol.

And the echo of the words he spoke as he teased you with the head of his cock and made you cum around his length.

“Don’t you worry, though. If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I’ll let you.”

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess.”

When you wake, the ache between your thighs for him remains, despite the fact that the effects of the drugs had long since faded.

You know you shouldn’t read too far into words spoken while the two of you were locked in that room. But you can’t help but keep thinking that he wasn’t under the influence of chemical subjugation. Which leaves you questioning if he meant the things he said, or if he was just trying to lighten a scary, impossible situation for both of you.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

When you finally gather the courage the knock on his door, the sun has set and everyone has retired to their bedrooms for the evening.

You almost dash back into your own room during the few seconds that it takes him to open his door. He wears sweatpants, a plain black t-shirt, and a surprised expression.

“Hey, bub,” he greets you apprehensively. You don't normally make a habit of stopping by his room for late night chats. “Was starting to worry that you’d fallen into a coma.”

He opens his door wider, motioning with his head for you to come inside.

“Felt like it,” you give a small laugh. “Whatever was in that shit wore me out.” You take a seat on the edge of his bed, nervously wringing your hands together.

“You feeling better now?” he asks as he leans against his dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes trail over the large muscles of his chest and shoulders. The memory of his body caging you to the twin sized mattress in the basement of the bunker flashes through your mind.

You nod, hoping that it’s convincing.

“All things considered,” you shrug. “I just wanted to check in with you. Has Charles… said anything?”

What you're actually trying to ask is if Charles interrogated him about where the two of you were during the mission, why no one was able to contact either of you, and why you have been so exhausted that you've done nothing but sleep for the last day, but you trust that he knows what you mean.

“He hasn’t said anything, but..” he trails off, eyes darting around the room to avoid your gaze. “It’s Charles. Safe to assume he knows and is just being decent by not saying anything.”

“Right,” you murmur.

If he doesn’t already know, it's only a matter of time before you slip up and imagine the feeling of his lips on yours or the sounds of his moans in the middle of a mission debriefing.

“And the humans..? They’re all okay?”

“They are,” he assures you with a soft smile. “They’re all receiving medical attention, and most have been reunited with their loved ones.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “No thanks to us, I guess.”

“No,” he laughs. “I suppose not.”

He pushes himself off the dresser, walking the few feet to where you perch at the edge of the mattress. He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. He smells of Old Spice deodorant and spearmint toothpaste, and it makes you the room spin around you.

“But everyone’s okay. They’re safe. And you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak. He’s close enough that you can practically feel the heat from his body. You risk looking at his face, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Yeah,” you finally agree. “You’re right. Well, I’ll let you get some rest. I just wanted to check in with—”

You start to stand up, when he cups your jaw in his hand and pulls your face to his. He’s hesitant in a way that he wasn’t yesterday – he gives you the opportunity to pull away before he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip, as if asking for permission.

When you don’t give any kind of indication that you want him to stop, he pulls you flush against him and slips his tongue past your lips. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, twining your fingers through his hair.

He takes his time with you. Whereas yesterday’s kisses were filled with urgency and desperation, todays is tender and sensual. Now, you’re allowed the luxury of taking your time.

He lays down against the mattress, pulling you with him. You straddle his stomach, your lips never once breaking contact. His hands grip the globes of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat through your pajama pants.

You grind against the hard planes of his abdomen, earning a throaty growl from him.

He breaks away, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I said something I didn’t entirely mean yesterday,” he whispers, out of breath.

“What?” you ask, sitting upright and looking down at him. “You aren’t going to let me suck your dick?”

“No,” he chuckles. “God, no. I meant that. If you still want to, that is—”

“What is it, then?” you interrupt with a playful nudge to his chest.

“I said you could go back to tolerating my existence. But I hope you wanna do a little bit more than just tolerate me.”

You laugh under your breath, leaning down to press your lips to his once more.

“I could see myself doing a little bit more than just tolerating you.”

oooops i accidentally wrote another fic where logan overhears something that he wasn't supposed to 😅🫠 did not originally plan for that to happen hahaha

check out some of my other logan fics -

by the end of the night

dog tags drabble

[rhettrosunsets]

Bearly Apart

Pairing: Bob Floyd X F! Teacher Reader

Category: Fluff!

Summary: You and Bob finally take the next step in your lives together, moving! But while cleaning, Bob finds something extremely special in one of you boxes.

Masterlist

Word Count: 1678

Warnings: Mentions of being pulled into Bob's Lap, Mentions Of Deployment, Use of Pet Names, No use of Y/N, No description of what reader looks like.

Notes: I haven’t written fanfictions since I was probably fourteen, so if these suck, I apologize!! I’m just now getting back into the swing of writing and trying to figure out how to characterize my writing.

You love Bob.

there is no other way to describe the way in which you feel for the blonde Naval Aviator, who has stolen your heart and made it no good for anyone else.

You met at the Hard Deck a few years back, you were with your friends, trying to hang back and let them have their fun as you were the designated driver for the night, and honestly wanted nothing more than to be at home curled up with your blankets, knowing you had papers to grade, but the moment you saw Bob sitting by the pool table, you knew you were whipped, and the moment you met Bob, you knew he was the one. 

You began to realize he would never let you touch a door again if he could help it, always claiming “My momma would beat me if she found out I let you open your own door.” It was the little things like that, that made you truly realize how much he loved you, or the way that he would run his fingers gently across your cheek when he thought you were asleep, whispering about how lucky he felt to meet you and planning your futures, promising to give you the best life he could. 

Bob absolutely treasured you, and he always made sure you knew it, never wanting you to feel like you weren't the best thing that ever happened to him. He would often praise you anytime he could. “You work so hard baby, let me take care of you.” “You’re so beautiful, my darling girl” 

But there was one downside to your otherwise seemingly perfect boyfriend. The deployments. They’re long, and distance is hard. You miss your boyfriend, you miss the way he holds you, and you miss trying to sleep without him, so on one particularly long deployment, you had a solution to this. A Build-A-Bear, dressed in a little navy uniform, that you sprayed with his cologne. It was the perfect solution to your problem, you had a small stuffed bear to hug, that resembled your boyfriend, and that smelt like him for when the nights got extra lonely. Now despite your three, almost four year relationship with Bob, you never told him about this bear. Oftentimes, you’d just put the bear into the closet when he came back from deployments, not needing it, now that you had the real thing, which you didn’t really think would be a problem, until now.

You and Bob had finally decided to move out of your shared apartment, and into your first house, and with this big decision, came having to move everything in your apartment, and that meant lots of sorting and putting things into boxes.

You were sitting in the half packed bedroom, sorting through your closet, and sorting all your clothes into the 'donate' or 'new house' piles. You could faintly hear Bob moving boxes around in your living room, the sound of him humming to himself as he worked evident through the walls. It was peaceful and domestic, something that made you smile to yourself, and you were simply content to just silently sort through your clothes, until the silence was broken by the sound of a quiet knock at your bedroom door, making you look up from your sorting.

Bob peeked his head around the door, giving you a gentle smile as he looked at you. "Hey Doll, how's it going?" 

You look up, meeting his soft gaze, biting back a smile. "It's going good, I think. You don't realize how much stuff you have until you have to move it, I think we need to limit the amount of sweatshirts I buy during winter" you say with a soft groan before focusing your attention back onto Bob "You get the living room packed up already?

Bob chuckles softly as he leans against the door frame, his arms crossed as he shakes his head at your comment knowing that you just steal half of his sweatshirts anyways. “I got most of it packed up. There's a couple heavier things I wanna wait and ask everyone else to help move, but that's not going to be for a few more days.” 

He walks over to where you're sitting on the floor, sitting besides you and placing his head gently atop yours, as he wraps his hand around your waist. “You need some help packing up the rest of the closet, Doll?” 

You hum leaning into the comforting touch of your boyfriend. “There’s a few containers in there I haven't sorted through yet. If you wanna go through those, that’d be a big help” You say peering up at your boyfriend. 

Bob plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, squeezing your waist. "Of course baby, I live to serve afterall, doll." He says as he stands up, lips quirking into a soft smirk.

Your face heats up as you look back to the clothes you’re sorting through, your breath hitching in your throat. “Shut It, Lieutenant.” Bob chuckles lowly as he begins to grab some of the storage bins out of the closet, “Whatever you ask, doll.” 

You two get into a rhythm of sorting through things, falling into a system, getting through most of the items in your closet much quicker.

Bob sorts through a few boxes, before finally opening one up that caught his attention when he first started sorting. He lifts the lid off of it, revealing some older polaroids of you two when you first started dating, stuff you had collected over your many dates, such as dried flowers, notes he had written you, and some movie tickets you had kept. As he looks further in the box, he sees something peeking out. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he grabs the item, pulling out a small stuffed bear. He furrows his eyebrows as he picks it up, noticing the small navy-like uniform the bear has on, with a small name tag attached to the front of the bear, reading 'Bobby' in your handwriting. A small smile tugs at Bob's lips as he looks at the bear. He runs his fingers over the fabric of the uniform, admiring how it closely resembles his own uniform, he notices the hint of a familiar cologne wafting off of the bear. He lifts the bear closer to his nose, inhaling the recognizable scent. It was his cologne, smiling even wider when he realizes that. 

You look up noticing Bob hadn’t said much in a little bit, wanting to make sure he was okay, when you notice him holding the small stuffed bear. You immediately still as you notice the bear, eyes widening.

The smile doesn't leave his face as he turns to you, with the bear still in his hands. "Doll?" He calls out to you, He holds the bear up for you to see. "Care to explain this?" He asks with a small chuckle.

You blush, feeling your entire body seeming to heat up in embarrassment. “Oh my god, you didn’t just find that.” you said bringing your hands to cover your face.

He stands up, walking over to you and sitting besides you on the floor, placing the bear in your lap, his gaze fixated on your face, as he gently tries to coax your hands away from your face. "C'mon baby, no reason to be embarrassed. I'm just curious, I wanna know where the lil’guy came from.”

You groan softly as you allow him to pull your hands away from your face and into his own, as you shyly peer up at your smiling boyfriend. “I-I got him on one of your longer deployments a few years ago.. I really, really missed you and I couldn’t sleep at night. So, one day I decided to go to build-a-bear, and I saw the little navy outfit, and well.. Made a mini you, for when you couldn’t be here, and sprayed your cologne on it. Made it feel less lonely at night, like a promise that you’d come back to me.”

A look of adoration crosses Bob's face, his eyes softening as he reaches over to pull you into his hold, wrapping his arms around you as he rests his head on your shoulder. "Oh sweet-girl" Bob says, his voice filled with pure tenderness and a tinge of guilt at the prospect of you feeling that alone. "I had no idea. I knew you struggled with my deployments, I struggle being away from you too, but I didn't realize it was that tough on you, sweetheart. You could’ve told me.” 

You lean back, relishing in your boyfriend's hold, face still flushed with heat. “I know m’love. But they’re hard on you as well.. And well that’s why I got your little mini-me here, made me feel like you were here in spirit.”

He runs his hands up and down your back in a soothing motion, before whispering “You’re so precious doll, got the whole world in my arms. M’the luckiest man alive, you know that? Having my girl miss me so much that she makes a stuffed bear mini-me, couldn't've ever dreamed of being this lucky.”

You snort softly. “Slow your roll lieutenant, it’s a stuffed bear, you act like I've handed you a magic lamp that’ll solve all your worries.” 

Bob smiles into your shoulder, shaking his head. “Fuck the lamp, i’ve got everything I could’ve ever wished for right here, anyways.” 

You groan loudly, shaking your head, “Oh my god, Bob that was so bad. You’re such a corny flirt.”

 Bob smiles at your reaction, kissing your head, whispering “Only for you, Doll.” Bob gently tugs you closer, before adding on “You know baby, if you’ve been using this every deployment, it means we’ve ‘Bearly been Apart’ this whole time.” He says softly trying to stifle his laughter.

You groan loudly, slapping his chest. “Bobby! Oh my god, that was horrible! You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Cute enough to make into a bear, obviously.” He responds, lips quirking up into a smirk as he sees your glare intensify.

“Robert!” you exclaim

“Shutting up now, doll!"

[driverlando]

✧.* #NUDEGATE

synopsis- Oscar accidentally posts a nude on his instagram story

before you continue: similar to the sex tape leak smau for lando! if you enjoyed please reblog and give me a follow <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

—

✧.* Oscar’s reaction

You and Oscar are lounging on the couch, enjoying a rare quiet afternoon together. The TV is on, but neither of you is really watching it. You’re curled up against him, scrolling through your phone, while he’s half-asleep, his arm wrapped around you.

Suddenly, Oscar’s phone rings, startling both of you. He fumbles to grab it from the coffee table, squinting at the screen. “It’s Zak,” he says, his voice tinged with confusion. He answers the call, putting it on speaker.

“Oscar, mate, you need to check your Instagram story right now,” Zak’s urgent voice fills the room.

Oscar sits up, wide awake now. “What? Why?”

“Just do it,” Zak insists. “You’ve posted something you shouldn’t have.”

Your heart drops as you both realise what this might mean. Oscar quickly opens his Instagram, his fingers shaking slightly. He taps on his story and his face goes pale. “Oh my God,” he mutters.

You peek over his shoulder and see it—a very revealing photo that’s definitely not meant for public eyes. “Oh no,” you breathe, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Delete it, Oscar. Now,” Zak commands.

Oscar doesn’t need to be told twice. He quickly deletes the story, his hands moving in a blur. “It’s gone,” he says, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, Zak. I didn’t realize…”

Zak’s tone is exasperated but with a hint of amusement. “Oscar, you might want to double-check before you post anything in the future. Your fans probably didn’t expect to see that.”

Oscar groans, dropping his phone onto the sofa. “I can’t believe I did that.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Well, you did say you wanted to give your fans a closer look at your life.”

He shoots you a horrified look before bursting into laughter. “Not that close!”

Zak’s voice comes through the speaker, chuckling. “Look, just be more careful next time. And maybe invest in some clothes.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, still laughing. “Got it, Zak. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Anytime. And Oscar, maybe don’t make this a regular thing, yeah? We’re trying to win races, not start an OnlyFans,” Zak says before ending the call.

Oscar drops his head into his hands, still laughing. “I can’t believe this.”

You wrap your arms around him, grinning. “At least we know your followers are getting a lot of exposure to their favourite driver.”

He groans, his face flushing again. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You kiss his cheek. “Probably not. But hey, now you’ve got a funny story to tell.”

He sighs, pulling you closer. “Only if you promise to never let me use Instagram unsupervised again.”

You laugh. “Deal. And maybe we should stick to cute couple selfies from now on.”

Oscar nods, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Or maybe… I should make sure all my posts have wardrobe approval from you first.”

You grin. “I can work with that.”

—

—

—

—

SCANDAL ON THE GRID: Oscar Piastri’s Instagram Mishap

By: Sasha, Rumour Radar

In a hilarious yet shocking turn of events, McLaren’s rising star Oscar Piastri has become the latest cautionary tale for digital privacy and social media blunders. Early yesterday morning, fans got more than they bargained for when Piastri accidentally posted a revealing photo to his Instagram story, sending the F1 community into a frenzy. The incident has drawn comparisons to similar celebrity slip-ups, such as Chris Evans’ infamous social media mishap.

The mishap was quickly addressed in a series of tweets by Piastri himself. The first tweet, brimming with sheepish humour, read: “So�� that wasn’t supposed to happen. Apologies to everyone. Lesson learned: double-check before posting. #SorryMum”

Just minutes later, he followed up with a more serious note on the importance of digital security: “On a serious note, let’s talk about digital privacy. Make sure you’re securing your accounts and double-checking before you post. Lesson learned. #StaySafeOnline”

As if the situation wasn’t already comedic gold, Piastri’s McLaren teammate and fellow prankster, Lando Norris, couldn’t resist adding his comment. “Oh Oscar mate, you need lessons on how to use Instagram properly. Always give your phone to a responsible adult if you’re not sure,” Norris retweeted Piastri to ensure the ribbing hit home.

To top it all off, Piastri’s model girlfriend, Y/N, chimed in with her own playful jab: “I literally leave him alone for a minute and this is what happens…”

Insiders close to the couple revealed that Zak Brown, McLaren’s CEO, was the first to alert Piastri to the accidental post, calling him in a tone that was reportedly both urgent and amused. “Oscar, mate, you need to check your Instagram story right now,” Brown had said, trying to suppress laughter while maintaining his authoritative stance.

Despite the embarrassing slip-up, fans were quick to rally around Piastri, appreciating his candid and humorous approach to the situation. “At least we know he’s human!” one fan tweeted, while another quipped, “This is why Oscar Piastri is my favourite—he’s real, he’s relatable, and he’s hilariously unfiltered.”

The incident has sparked a flurry of memes and jokes across social media, solidifying Piastri’s place not just as a talented driver, but as a beloved personality in the F1 world.

While the dust settles on this unexpected reveal, Piastri’s misadventure serves as a humorous reminder of the perils of social media. As the young driver himself advised, securing your accounts and double-checking before posting is a lesson everyone can take to heart.

As for Piastri, it seems he’ll be keeping a much closer eye on his phone from now on, with a little help—and a lot of teasing—from his friends and family.

Stay tuned to Rumour Radar for the latest updates on this unfolding story and more celebrity gossip.

—

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, logansargeant and 207,256 others

oscarpiastri me when I got a call from Zak to check my Instagram story 😅 Thanks for the support, everyone. And to McLaren for not firing me.

view all 9,268 comments

user1 I wish I was a fly on the wall during that conversation with Zak 🤣

oscarpiastri I promise I’m a responsible person btw!!

↳ yourusername sure honey, sure

user2 you’re such a grandpa when it comes to technology

yourusername Still can’t believe you managed to do this 😭

↳ user3 was he trying to send you the nude or something 😂

↳ user4 they’re kinky af, he was definitely sending her a pic

user5 where can I see this nude? 👀

↳ user6 search up #nudegate on twitter, it’s trending

↳ user5 HOLY SHIT! good to know he keeps a stubble down there 🥵

↳ user6 I don’t even wanna know how big he is erect, like that man is hungggg

logansargeant only you 😂

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✧.* Y/n loves adding fuel to the fire

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mclaren

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 187,268 others

mclaren nothing to see here, just two guys who love keeping our pr team on their toes #sendhelp

view all 2,618 comments

landonorris why he say fuck me for?

↳ user7 please you know exactly why 😂

oscarpiastri whoops, hey that’s why we have a pr team right?

user8 just a couple of besties 🫶

oscarpiastri is it roast Oscar day or something?

↳ yourusername after the stunt you pulled…yes.

user9 the best duo!! 😂

user10 mclaren pr have the patience of a saint 😭

—

✧.* Lando finally gets his payback

[galactic-magick]

The Handsome Assistant: Viktor x Reader

Summary: You keep running into the handsome Dean's assistant, whom you find you have a lot in common with. You develop quite the crush, and things get a little messy when your friends find out about him.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: some implied suggestive stuff, alcohol use

Author's Notes: Set before Season 1 Act 1. Just a warning, this is probably the most heavily self-indulgent of my Viktor fics so far. I’ve had ideas bouncing around my head for a long time about who I’d be if I lived in the Arcane universe, and I eventually just ended up taking inspiration from what I do in real life. So basically Reader works in human services and is similar to a social worker. I tried my best to write it in a way that makes sense even if you’re not familiar with that field.

Also, the roommate/friend characters are based on my besties irl, one of which is also my beloved tumblr mutual @ohboi , who has been dealing with my nonstop Viktor obsession for a long ass time now so shout-out to them lol. I wrote you living your dream in this fic as a way to apologize <3

-

It’s exhausting dealing with the powers of topside. There’s no sense of urgency here, no drive for real progress. You’ve attended meeting after meeting, maintaining composure every time they tell you your mission isn’t a priority, or that it will take decades to implement.

All you want is to help the struggling children in the Undercity. It’s what you’ve dedicated your life to, studying human services and psychology at the Academy and building your own grassroots group with a few others from your graduating class. You primarily advocate for better education, as the schools down there barely get any funding. The council doesn’t want to hear it, though, as it’s much easier to forget about the citizens below their feet.

It frustrates you beyond belief, especially since the first chunk of your life was spent in the Undercity. You lived the stark contrast between the two cities yourself, being granted countless more opportunities once your family moved to Piltover. It was sickening, and you felt so guilty with your new privileges when your friends back home still had none. But without those privileges, you wouldn’t have been able to attend the Academy and give back.

You resist the strong urge to scream after another failed proposal with the council. You prepared all of your points for weeks, fact-checking everything and making sure your ideas were plausible. The budget and statistics you wrote out projected exponential progress for both cities, as focusing on the new generation of Zaunites would encourage the next great minds and likely lead to collaboration on mutual issues. But of course, the council is not ready to contemplate such a future.

There was one factor that wasn’t usually there, though, a handsome young man sitting beside Professor Heimerdinger. He was furiously taking notes the entire meeting, looking back down at his journal anytime you made eye contact with him. Out of all the councilors, Heimerdinger seemed the most open to your ideas, but without a majority agreeing to cast a vote to actually change policy, nothing would happen.

You walk back down the long hallway, noticing someone in your peripheral vision.

“I’m sorry the council remains so stuck in their ways,” he says. “Trust me, I understand how hard it is to hold back your anger towards them.”

You turn your head, seeing the young man from earlier, “Who are you?”

“Viktor. I’m assistant to the Dean of the Academy,” he replies, leaning on a cane. “I quite liked your ideas. I think they could work.”

“I know they would work.”

You sigh, quickly realizing you’re projecting your feelings onto this stranger.

“Sorry,” you correct yourself. “I just don’t understand how they can just not care about the suffering down there. I’m from the Undercity, I’ve seen what’s happening there firsthand, and it’s only getting worse.”

Viktor’s eyes widen a bit, “I’m from the Undercity, too.”

“You’re from the Undercity and you’re the personal assistant to Heimerdinger?” you question, a bit shocked at the prospect.

“It’s really not that big of a deal, but yes.”

“What do you mean, not a big deal? I’ve never even met anyone else from the Undercity who got into the Academy.”

“I suppose we are a rare breed,” he says. “I imagine I never saw you there due to our differences in studies.”

“Most likely,” you shrug. “None of my classes were in the science halls, assuming that’s where you were.”

He smirks, “What makes you assume I studied science?”

“You just have that look about you.”

He laughs, “Well, you’re right. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised someone well-versed in analyzing humanity read me so quickly.”

“Don’t worry, you’re still mostly a mystery to me. I can’t read minds or anything,” you flash him a genuine smile.

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“I need to get back to my lab, but I do hope we cross paths again. I’ll certainly discuss your proposals more with Heimerdinger as well.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

He leaves in the opposite direction, his cane tapping the floor.

What an interesting twist of fate, meeting someone like you.

-

The second time you run into Viktor is at an Academy party a couple months later, something you both likely would’ve skipped if you could. It’s somewhat a recruiting event for new students, and several alumni were asked to represent their fields of study. It’s not that you mind talking with prospective students, but you know you’ll have to hold back a lot of your true opinions when doing so. If you go off about how the curriculum doesn’t cover enough about the issues in the Undercity, you’ll surely get a reprimand from your former professors. You could lose several connections and investors in your organization as well, something you’re not willing to risk. Instead, you keep a smile on your face, engaging in conversation politely and answering questions.

You notice Viktor sitting at one of the far tables, his eyes darting around the room. He has several contraptions set up, and occasionally people come up to ask him about them. He lights up when he speaks, his face making the cutest expressions.

You notice yourself staring, quickly turning your head towards something else.

That sconce on the wall looks nice, doesn’t it?

As the event slows down and the crowd shuffles out, you pack up your things and head to the door, glancing back at Viktor’s table for a moment. He’s looking right back at you, and your heels swivel promptly to go see him.

“Hey,” you say, shooting him a smile. “Nice to see you again.”

Shit, was he this handsome the first time you met him?

“You as well,” he nods, gathering up his own things scattered in front of him. “Did you find anyone to join your program?”

“A few, yeah. You?”

“Several. More than I expected.”

He huffs, soon realizing all of his tech and science displays were not going to fit in the one cart that was left.

“I can help you carry your stuff, the science wing isn’t that far from here, right?” you offer, shifting your things under one arm and grabbing some of his things with the other.

“You don’t have to do that,” he protests, but you’re already propping open the door and gesturing him to come along with a head tilt.

“I really don’t mind. Come on.”

You help him put things away in the different classrooms and offices, careful not to break anything. You’ve never been in this side of the school before, and it’s set up quite differently than the usual classrooms you were in. There’s much more going on than a usual lecture hall, tools and chemicals you don’t dare touch lining the perimeter. Viktor thanks you for your assistance as you finish getting everything in place, and you once again prepare to go your separate ways.

“Wait—” he says before you leave, pulling out his journal and flipping through it. “I wrote down a lot more notes that might be helpful for your project, I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

He hands over the open page for you to read, and your jaw drops. It’s so detailed, every proposal you had broken down to its smallest pieces. He even laid out the budget and resource use and everything it would take to not only build and fund better schools in the Undercity, but also work on housing and overall infrastructure. He even has some theories scribbled on how to keep the air cleaner and fix problems with the fissures.

You can’t believe he’s been thinking about you and everything you said for all this time since you last met.

“Viktor, this is amazing.”

“I know it still may not convince the entire council, but I found your ideas quite inspiring. I hope my calculations can be informative.”

“They certainly are,” your fingers hover over the written words and numbers. “Thank you, Viktor.”

“Of course,” he grins. “I look forward to seeing what you accomplish.”

-

You find yourself running into him a lot more often after that, “accidentally” walking by each other’s offices at least once a week and talking long beyond what you probably should while working. Your soul feels so in tune with his, a phenomenon that surely shouldn’t be happening with someone you haven’t known very long.

Your conversations quickly progress to topics non-work related, his curiosity blooming with every little thing you share with him. Most days after work you simply can’t stop talking to each other, causing you to get home later and later until your roommates start to get nosy.

“I really have to go, Viktor,” you laugh, glancing at the clock that reads three whole hours past the end of your shift. You’ve been chatting about embarrassing Academy stories, reminiscing on both the stark similarities and differences between your experiences.

His eyebrows raise. “Shit, is it really that late?”

“Yeah,” you grab your bag with a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

-

“You already work too much overtime as it is! What’s so important that you have to stay late every single day?” one of your roommates, Eli, probes, clearly unsatisfied with the half-truth answers you’ve given so far. You don’t really want to tell the full truth just yet, that you’ve been talking with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t experience the passage of time whatsoever when you’re around him. That would sound ridiculous, especially since absolutely nothing will ever come of it. He’s a wonderful colleague, but you’d be foolish to ever expect anything more.

“There’s just a lot to do,” you finally say.

“You need a break, that’s what you need to do,” they emphasize. “How about we go down to The Last Drop tomorrow night? It’s been a while since we’ve seen our friends down there.”

You nod, “Alright, I’ll try not to stay late tomorrow.”

“You better not.”

They glare at you jokingly, and you let out a laugh and exhale of relief.

-

You finish up your notes for the day, whipping your head back and forth to check if the coast is clear. You know yourself and your own weakness—you certainly won’t get out of here on time if you run into Viktor for even a second.

But of course, like clockwork, his familiar tap on your leg with his cane greets you moments later, your heart fluttering to a discomposing degree. Him coming to see you is a routine now, and despite your promise to your friends you are aching to talk to him. You haven’t had a proper night out in months, why is it so hard to just leave?

If any of your racing thoughts are visible on your features, Viktor certainly picked up on them.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just...long day,” you reply. “But my roommates are taking me out tonight, maybe that will wake me back up.”

“I won’t keep you long, then—”

He’s cut off by Eli calling your name, jaw dropped as they come towards you down the hallway.

“I knew there was something you weren’t telling me!” they chuckle in disbelief. “Working late my ass.”

“I was literally on my way home!”

“I just wanted to come check!”

Your face grows hot. It isn’t abnormal for your roommates to visit you at your job every so often, bringing you important documents you forgot at home or bringing you a treat on your birthday, but under the current circumstances you’re a bit mortified.

They reach out their hand, “I’m Eli, Y/N’s roommate. Who do you think you are?”

“Viktor.” he shakes it, surprisingly not appearing phased by their directness.

“Interesting,” they look him up and down, then turn to you. “So, he’s coming with us, right?”

“Oh, um...I didn’t ask—“

Viktor can’t help but smile at your flustered face.

“If I’m invited, I wouldn’t mind joining.”

-

“I can’t believe you.”

Mumbling under your breath, you enter The Last Drop. Viktor told you he’d meet you there in about an hour, which thankfully gives you some time for some drinks to numb your nerves.

“Look, I honestly don’t know why you didn’t just tell us about him. He seems like a good one.”

“It’s not like that,” you correct them. “He’s not into me like that. We just work on some projects together, that’s all.”

You order a drink from Vander at the bar, gulping it down a little too quickly.

“That kinda night, eh?” he laughs, pouring you another one before you have to ask.

“Yeah.”

You have a few more drinks and shots with your roommates and old Undercity friends, your mind and body entering such a daze that you almost forget Viktor is meeting you there later. You play games together and get teased about some of your adopted topside ways, and you even get back at Eli by pushing them to talk to Sevika, who they ogle at quite literally every time you come to this bar with them. It’s the kind of night where you can be free and careless, temporarily leaving your problems behind in favor of bad decisions.

You have to do a double take when you finally see Viktor arrive. He’s changed out of his Academy uniform, now dressed much more casually and much more like a Zaunite.

“It seems I’m a little late to the fun,” he observes.

“We’re just starting!” you beam, the drunk giggles taking over you.

“How many have you had?”

“I don’t know, like 7 or 8 maybe,” you shrug.

He lifts his cane against you and steers you away from the bar, shaking his head, “I think you’re done for tonight.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. “But not because you told me to, because I don’t want to throw up.”

He stays close to you while you stumble back to your friends’ table, chuckling at the slurred introductions you give him. They all accept him into their games and conversations instantly, and you quickly find out Viktor can handle his liquor a lot better than you. He puts all of them to shame, and they love finally having decent competition.

Your friends all whisper their approval to you throughout the night, even though you’ve repeatedly reminded them that nothing is going on. Although, you’re not really helping your case by zoning out every few minutes on his face.

“You have pretty eyes,” you say, staring until you realize what you just said out loud.

“That’s very kind,” he responds hesitantly. “But I’m sure your vision is a bit...tainted.”

“Alcohol doesn’t change color perception, dumbass.” you retort. “Besides, I’m sobering up a little.”

“Well then,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

You sigh, taking a sip of some water and glancing around the room. The bar is close to closing, and most of your friends have left.

“Have you seen Eli recently? I haven’t seen them in a while.”

He snickers, “You didn’t see them go in the back with Sevika?”

“They what?” you jump out of your seat. “Oh they’d better tell me everything.”

“I’m sure they will,” he laughs. “Do you need someone to walk you home, then?”

“Probably. Who knows how long they’ll be.”

-

The buzz has worn off quite a bit now, so thankfully you’re not tripping all over nothing and further embarrassing yourself. Viktor’s beautiful glow in the moonlight is more than enough to accomplish that, your gazes prolonging far longer than they should.

“Thank you for coming tonight, it was fun,” you say, fumbling for your apartment key in your pocket. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, though.”

“Don’t apologize. It was very amusing.”

“Good.” you exhale. “Just ignore anything weird I said, okay?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” he smirks. “Now get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

-

Sleep is certainly what you get, and the next morning before work is full of a head-pounding hangover and chaotic conversation. Your roommates Eli and Chanthou can’t stop laughing about everything that happened, and naturally you’re very nosy about the Sevika situation. Eli tells you every little detail of course, giddy and in disbelief that they managed to make-out with her all night.

“So? Are you guys going to get together again?” you ask on the edge of your seat.

“I hope so.”

“Looks like you both got what you wanted last night,” Chanthou adds.

“Guys, he just walked me home. That’s all.” You’re getting a little annoyed with the constant reminders that your little crush is not, in fact, reciprocated.

“You...don’t remember?” she looks at Eli, then cocks her head at you. “About halfway through the night you were all over him. We just assumed you guys finally confessed.”

You didn’t think you drank enough to blackout, but you definitely don’t remember whatever they’re talking about. Besides, if you really were doing that, why didn’t Viktor say something once you were sobered up?

And what, now you have to see him in the office today, having no idea what you said to him?

“Oh, fuck, guys. What exactly did I do?”

“I don’t know what happened after I went back with Sevika, but before I left you were sitting on his lap on the couch and playing with his hair—”

“WHAT?”

“Wow, you really don’t remember, do you?”

You groan, wishing you didn’t have to go in today. You have a couple important meetings though, so you’ll have to power through. You take some painkillers and grab your things, praying for the first time that you can get through the day without seeing Viktor.

-

Your headache refuses to lessen its throbbing for your entire shift, making the work you usually enjoy completely miserable. You snap at one too many co-workers and find yourself staring at the clock desperately. Why did you agree to drinking on a weeknight again?

Just as you dreaded, you run into Viktor outside, too obviously waiting for you to pretend to ignore him.

“Hey…” you avoid looking into his eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything about what really happened last night?”

“I...wasn’t sure you’d remember,” he confesses. “I suspected you blacked out when you said you didn’t remember seeing Eli leave. And I wasn’t sure you meant what you said anyway.”

“Please, Viktor. Just tell me what I said. All my roommates told me was I couldn’t stop touching you, which I am so sorry about—“

“N-No, don’t be. Everything was consensual, I assure you.” his face flushes. “You just told me you have feelings for me, that’s all. I was going to tell you last night too if you hadn’t said it first.”

Your eyes widen at his words, your heart threatening to leave your chest.

“But it seems you don’t remember, so I can still count this as making the first move, hmm?”

Shivers race down your spine as Viktor leans in, his fingertips grazing your cheek. His lips meet yours softly, your eyes fluttering shut as he presses deeper. His hand remains holding your face when he pulls away, scanning your expression for your reaction.

“I guess the feeling is mutual,” you chuckle, still a bit breathless.

“Quite so, darling.”

-

More Author's Notes: I have a bad habit of getting drunk around guys I like irl bc I literally can’t handle being around hot people sober so that's the inspiration for that situation lol. Also, a part 2 to this is already in the works, it'll be set during Act 1 and probably parts between 1 and 2.

[flattocatto]

Viktor Modern!AU uni headcanons

ohhh hes in my head i have so many thoughts i have so much to say about him. you guys just let me cook. ok. okay thanks. please reblog like whatever im new here LOL

warnings/key takeaways: mention of recreational drug use, freshman/sophomore year of uni, lots of studying, goofy meet cute, oblivious nerd viktor, both of you live on campus in dorms (same building), GENDER NEUTRAL (use of ‘you’, no specific pronouns)

HE SMOKES WEED

IDGAF HE SMOKES WEED

not like some crazy stuff. no. he smokes weed ti not feel PAIN. yeah you heard me. he smokes shit w high CBD content. doesn’t smoke it for the high, smokes it to feel better

think he would have it medically and everything

ohhh uni viktor would be the only fucker allowed to smoke in his dorm because if his leg got bad how could he go outside huh?? he didn’t share this news (of him being allowed to smoke indoors) but people knew since he’d have a window cracked open all the time. not fooling anyone

on this note i feel like he would only smoke if he absolutely needed to. yk how people go “i can quit anytime!” but never do? he’s the kind of guy to say that but MEAN IT. he just prefers his joints over painkillers because he finds they work faster

ok enough weed talk. he’s getting his masters in biomedical engineering. its obvious you guys ive seen this everywhere.

he wants to make people better prosthetics. he also got a degree in prosthetics and orthotics techs but it was only a 2 year so its ‘just a paper’ as he says

he studies hardcore. its surprising he even makes friends (sorry viktor) but he saw a lot of potential in jayce as a student from people watching. like in canon au :D!

on that note, biggest people watcher. its actually kind of how he got his friends. extroverts pick up introverts from introvert daycare (the corner of the room)

relationship headcanons

if you guys were to meet, it would be one of those silly meetcute things.

hear me out. you book a study room with your friends to study for exams, but none of them show. shame. one got sick, the other had to go home to see their parents or something. all in all, you were DITCHED by your homies

now. someone coordinating the rooms messed up. viktor had that room booked the SAME time you did! gasp! he just likes the space of the rooms to properly spread out his work.

anyway you were already in the room and he shows up. and just stands there. awkwardly. standing man emoji.

instead of apologizing, he STANDS HIS MFING GROUND. “i have this room booked for three hours.”

“thats crazy because ME TOO.”

you go back and forth, before you both realize the confirmation email you got was from the same person or whatever. who had booked the room for you two. not two separate rooms.

after viktor makes a small mumble of “of course”, you offer to let him stay anyway. and explain that you originally had friends going over but they dipped.

its exam season, you aren’t leaving and you aren’t gonna kick him out! thats so cruel!!!

at the end you end up exchanging numbers. and find out you’re in the same dormitory building!!!

he invites you to study with him in a study room next time, to ‘prevent the coordinator from messing up again’ — he just likes your presence

bing bang boom friends. occasionally one of you begins to break silence, asking silly questions about futures and families and holidays. conversation is limited, you are both locked in to studying most of the time

unfortunately YOU are the one to ask him out. viktor is literally just comfortable with your presence and too in his head to think you’d ever LIKE him romantically.

you take him to a museum. yeah. the local one had a free day for students. you’re also 100% chill with sitting whenever he looked uncomfortable. even if he denied needing rest, his face did that little scrunch thing and you just knew

after that you went to the uni again, to the dining hall. and he insisted on giving you a meal off of his meal plan. he said he ‘barely uses them all anyway,’ and forces you to take it. even if it kind of wasn’t allowed. he just lied to the clerk and said he was going to take it home.

very sweet if him, breaking RULES?

thats like the only rule he breaks for you

no, he won’t let you sleep in his dorm

no, he won’t sleep in YOUR dorm either

no, he won’t sneak out past curfew

(unless ur dying)

there was a time you texted him ‘help’ at midnight and he made his way all the way to your dorm very quietly.

turns out you had burnt popcorn. and it tasted horrible and you were honestly stressed to the point of tears. he thought you had gotten hurt. he proceeded to lecture you on appropriate texts to send at midnight past curfew. for like an hour.

glorious ovulation i need to smoke with him.

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

extra 2: the wedding “you said i do, and i did too”

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur @thelightknight21 @ellehoops wc: 4.4k notes: lots of requests for this one 😩☝️ also yes i used the same banner as the proposal one shot and no i dont care. anyways this is just the wedding but i promise i have not forgotten the other requests: 1) teammate interactions/jealousy and 2) their kids, i'm just breaking these one shots down so i can get more out faster when biology isnt making me want to kms. they will be out eventually but the next fic i write will probably be based off of 'come around' by lisa curtis sooo keep an earhole out for that 👁️ not proofread bc i have 31 assignments due by the 24th. sorry for yapping but pls enjoy 🫶

FEBRUARY 8, 2029

After making their engagement official in November, Tess and Paige packed up their lives in LA and Dallas respectively, spending time with their combined families while negotiating with the Valkyries and trying to find the perfect realtor and the perfect house. The both of them knew they basically had a done deal with the Valkyries, which is why they weren’t all too concerned about jumping the gun and searching for the house in the bay they’d been talking about for months. They’d managed to narrow their search down to two houses, both having the right amount of bedrooms, bathrooms, ample outdoor space, a spacious kitchen large enough to fit their future family (and to handle the chaos of Paige learning how to cook). The only real difference between the houses was the location. There was one that was a little closer to the Valkyries facility, although the other one was a little more suburban and away from the bustle of city life. Tess was honestly leaning to the more rural of the option, but she knew that decision wasn’t fully hers – she and Paige had to remember they were expanding their family in the upcoming years, and it was important that their children had the space to flourish and be happy.

Tess and Paige still had plenty of time to figure it out, so they weren’t worried. By late January, once the official free agency period began, they spent only a few hours in meetings with the Valkyries front office. Tess and Paige wanted to go to the Valkyries, the Valkyries wanted them there. There wasn’t much to argue about. However, they did have to negotiate their contract salaries. The Valkyries initial offer was actually too much, especially since Tess and Paige weren’t planning on splitting up anytime soon and they had a career’s worth of endorsements, brand deals, and steady income. They talked the front office down to a less steep offer, requesting that the extra funds go towards maintaining the facilities and investing in growing their bench. Tess, Paige, Azzi, Ayoka, and Kiki would be their sure starters. It was already a deadly lineup, but when you had an excellent, deep bench with players like Temi Fagbenle, Kate Martin, Kayla Thorton, and Madison Booker, and when the front office was looking at several free agent players like Gabby Williams, Aneesah Morrow, and Olivia Miles, the Valkyries were looking to be in good form for the 2029 season.

In early February, the official signing period began. The internet all but lit on fire when it was announced that Tess and Paige signed to the Valkyries, mostly excitement – especially at the prospect that Azzi and Paige would be reunited, but even more excitement at the idea that Paige would be running point guard with two of the best shooting guards on the wings. Then, after a short trip to the Bay, they finally signed off on a house, too. They decided for the more rural option. The distance to the facility and the city wasn’t actually that bad and they were both getting a little too old for the constant city noise.

Then February 8th rolled around, which would be the perfect ending to a hectic three months. They’d had their wedding date set ever since the plane ride back from Italy in November – Tess was a flurry of excitement and anticipation, hardly allowing Paige the time to get buckled in before talking her ear off about wedding preparation. Though, to her credit, Paige was just as invested as she was, a perpetual smile etched on her face, a lingering warmth in her eyes as they discussed some of the broader technicalities. They both knew they wanted to be married before the season started – neither of them wanted anything too huge, but a ceremony with their closest friends and family on the Hawaiian coast sounded perfect to them. The weather would be mild, not atrociously hot, and Tess had to admit – the idea of Paige, windswept and sun-kissed next to the ocean waves, did something to her heart, so it didn’t take much convincing for either of them.

So, here they are now. Tess and Paige, along with their family, flew out to Hawaii a few days before the ceremony, enjoying their time on the beach and their time with each other. Tess spent weeks perfecting her vows, considering what brand of waterproof mascara she was going to buy (because she just knew she was going to cry like a little bitch as soon as she saw Paige waiting for her). But now that the day is here? She’s freaking out.

“Tess Alessanda, I’m gonna need you to get it together.”

Kamilla’s voice does little to soothe the pounding of her heart. It’s not cold feet by any means. She’s known for years that she was going to marry Paige, but it’s so real right now. In a few moments, her parents are going to walk her down a path made of rose petals and she’s going to marry the love of her life. The excitement and anticipation is so overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

“Kam, she’s getting married,” Aliyah gripes, which causes Kamilla to roll her eyes as she fixes the strap of Tess’s dress. It’s a clean white in color, the skirt of it extending down to her ankles. She opted for a classy ‘lowkey’ since she’d be getting married in sand and she’s sure she would have flipped out if she got their wedding pictures and her dress was wet and dirty. “It’s a big day for her. And for us.” Aliyah pretends to wipe away a tear as she fake cries.

Tess watches Bree and Raven exchange a glance, the amusement in their expression clear as day as Destanni steps forward, her suit a perfectly tailored lilac to match the color of the bridal party. “Kamilla’s right, though,” Destanni says. She adjusts the white flower in Tess’s hair, nodding in approval once it’s to her liking. “You’re crazy about her, she’s crazy about you. I know this is huge for y’all but let’s turn that anxiety into happiness, alright?”

“I know,” Tess agrees, nodding floundering a bit when she tries to wipe her sweaty palms on her dress. Zia hands her a towel and Tess gratefully wipes her hands. “I’m just…super fucking excited, you know? I didn’t think something like this was possible for me.”

“Marriage?” Zia asks, a little confused.

Tess shrugs a shoulder. “Marriage. Love. Buying a house with someone that’s not my mom.” Her joke causes her closest friends to burst out into laughter. “I don’t know. I’m excited and happy and anxious and like, everything is what it’s supposed to be. I didn’t think this was possible but I’m so glad my life has worked out the way it has and I get to get married with my best friends next to me.”

“Shut up,” Bree says, wiping her waterline slightly. “You’re gonna fuck up my eyeliner.” Laughter rings out again.

“Well, Tess,” Kamilla says, a coy smile on her face. “I have a surprise for you.” Tess raises a tentative brow, honestly feeling a little concerned as Kamilla huffs. “Come on, trust me, okay? Promise you’re gonna love it.” Giving in with a sigh, Tess allows Kamilla to cover her eyes as she leads her out of the dressing room and down the hall. She bites her tongue, not wanting to be negative on her big day, but soon enough, they’re coming to a halt and Kamilla is pressing her back against the wall lightly. “Keep your eyes closed, please?” Tess nods and slowly, Kamilla removes her hands from her eyes, reaching down to grab her wrist. “I know y’all were doing the whole ‘no looking’ thing, but I thought this might be fun.” Still confused, Tess allows Kamilla to guide her hand until her knuckles are brushing against someone else’s hand. Kamilla releases her and the other person fully intertwines their fingers. Tess knows almost immediately that it’s Paige’s hand from the firmness of the grip and the way her thumb finds that specific spot on her skin that always soothes her.

“Oh my God,” Tess says incredulously, chuckling a little in disbelief. Paige huffs out something akin to laughter, too, squeezing her hand. Tess barely registers the sound of Kamilla’s heels clicking away as she focuses intently on the woman next to her, still keeping her eyes shut.

“Heard you were freaking out?” Paige asks, her tone teasing.

Tess scoffs. “I was not freaking out,” she says. Paige hums, not quite convinced, and Tess folds instantly. “Okay, maybe I was freaking out a little, but in a good way.”

“If you asked Azzi or Nika, they’d tell you I was freakin’ out, too,” Paige admits.

Tess laughs gently. “Were you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Paige affirms. “Couldn’t figure out these fuckin’ cufflinks. My hands were shaking so bad, had to redo the button on my shirt a few times ‘cause I kept skipping a hole.” They both dissolve into giggles at the confession, some of the tension easing from Tess’s shoulders. “God, Tess, I’on think you know how happy I am right now. Part of me is still in disbelief…like I can’t believe I got lucky enough to end up with you.”

Tess feels the tears pool in her eyes, so she takes a deep breath, willing them back. There’d be plenty of time for crying later. “If you’re as happy as I am, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” she says, which makes Paige let out a watery chuckle, squeezing her hand again. “I’m so glad I’m doing this with you. I don’t know if I can wait.”

“Just a little longer, yeah?” Paige asks. Tess can hear the smile in her voice.

“Just a little longer,” she confirms.

They stand in silence for a moment, eyes still closed, but Paige speaks up again. “Don’t freak out, okay?” she murmurs. “I know – easier said than done, I know, but today is already perfect. I was yours from the moment you shot a three over my head eight years ago.”

That makes Tess crack a small, grateful smile. “And I was yours the moment you blocked my shot so hard it broke your nail.”

Paige laughs, a little smug. “That was a crazy block, not even gonna lie.”

If Tess’s eyes weren’t closed, she’s sure they would be rolling by now. “You’re not allowed to freak out, either,” she says instead.

“I’m good now,” Paige promises. “Bein’ near you helps. I’m getting a little impatient, though, so Kam needs to come and get you before I start sayin’ I do.”

Tess chuckles a little. “A kiss for the road?” she says hopefully.

Paige hums. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“Are yours closed?” Tess asks, hearing Paige shuffle behind her, but she figures she gets her answer when she hears some part of Paige’s body slam into the corner of the wall between them and she hisses under her breath. “Point taken.”

“Be nice,” Paige grumbles, both of her hands blindly grasping her hips. “Where’s your face?” Tess grins, reaching down to take Paige’s wrist’s in her hands and guiding them up. Paige’s hands find home on her cheeks, cupping her jaw, and Tess leans into the touch as Paige’s fingers map out her features, brushing across her cheekbones, the bow of her lip, the slope of her nose. “I can feel you blushing. Your cheeks are hot.” Tess groans, much to Paige’s endless amusement. Tess can hear the rustling of her clothes as she leans forward, her lips finding her forehead, and Paige presses a kiss so delicate on her skin that it feels more like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. Paige’s thumb traces her jaw as she holds her a little tighter.

“I love you,” Tess says as Paige draws back.

“I love you, too,” Paige whispers. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Soon.” Tess squeezes her hand once more, hearing the sound of Kamilla’s heels once more. Before Paige releases her hand, she brushes her lips across her knuckles, finally parting with a lingering promise in the air.

Tess heads back to her dressing room for the final touches, feeling lighter than she has all day. After a while, her bridesmaids, Kamilla, Aliyah, Bree, Raven, Destanni, and Zia leave the dressing room to take their spots at the altar as Tess’s parents join her. Her mother and father are dressed in matching lilacs, the smiles on their faces full of pride and love.

“We’re so happy for you, piccola,” her mother whispers as she cups her cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. Her father rubs her shoulder comfortingly, kissing the crown of her head as all three of them try to hold back their tears.

“Are you ready?” her father asks, and with a strong, confident nod, Tess links arms with both of her parents as she walks out.

The sand is warm beneath her bare feet and the sun has begun setting across the ocean. She follows her parents along the familiar path towards the Makena Cove where the altar awaits. Her chin trembles a little, a strong mix of excitement and anticipation settling in her body. She’s really about to get married. She never thought she’d ever be over the moon for something like this, but knowing that Paige is waiting for her makes it so incredibly worth it.

The cove comes into view. Their guests rise – a mix of friends, family, teammates old and new, and it’s so beautiful. The horizon is painted a vibrant orange, streaks of pink and lavender and yellow coursing through; it reflects off of the calm ocean waves, which mesh perfectly with the soft music in the background as she walks closer and closer. The wind blows gently, flyaway strands of her hair dancing in the breeze, but what truly steals her attention away is Paige standing just a few yards away from her at the altar. She’s dressed in an all white suit, matching her dress perfectly. It’s crisp and tailored and fits her in all of the right places. The first few buttons are undone at her chest, revealing a nondescript chain, but from afar, Tess can make out the glint of the rose thumb ring she’s worn for years now. Paige’s hair is half up, half down in soft waves with two strands framing the side of her face and her make up is natural. Tess will never get tired of looking at her or saying it, but Paige is the most beautiful woman she’s ever met.

As she’s led closer and closer to her, more of Paige’s features come into view. Her eyes are a lighter blue, illuminated by the setting sun and the slight sheen of tears. Her lips tremble but her smile is bright and infectious, the joy and love and gratitude radiant on her face. Finally, she reaches the altar and her parents release her, swooping in to draw Paige into a tight hug, whispering words of encouragement to her. They wrap Tess up in their arms, too, pressing gentle kisses to her temple as they leave and take their seats at the front.

Taking their spots at the altar, Tess and Paige can’t wipe the smiles off of their faces as they link hands again. Tess can feel the slight shake in Paige’s hands, but the grin on her face is fearless. Paige’s bridesmaids (or brides-people, rather), consist of Aaliyah, Nika, Azzi, KK, Lauren, and Drew. Tess hardly has the time to think too much before the officiant launches right into the ceremony, welcoming their guests and delivering some opening remarks. Tess knows she should pay more attention to the officiant – it is her wedding, afterall, but she’s laser focused on Paige and honestly wants to skip to the part where they get to exchange their vows and finally say I do.

She doesn’t have to wait too long. The officiant makes it around to the exchange of vows and after a sure nod from Paige, Tess goes first, trying to find the words she’d spent so long perfecting. Her voice is soft, gentle, quiet enough that only Paige can hear it over the tender whistle of the wind.

“On this day eight years ago, we played against each other and I met you for the first time,” she begins, watching a slow smile spread across Paige’s lips as she listens intently. “Then, we competed again in 2022, and in 2023, I tore my ACL. I didn’t think I could survive it. I made it pretty hard on myself, to be honest, but the right people stepped in and there you were. You were there to stay – or so I’d hoped – and you made me want to take care of myself, to commit to PT and therapy and everything else under the sun so I could get better and live out my dream of playing basketball.

“When I was growing up, I thought basketball would be the only constant in my life. My dream was simple – play ball, get drafted. I didn’t expect to meet you or fall in love, but my future expanded. I dreamed of playing ball, of coming home to, or with you, of sharing a life with you and growing with you. You became part of my dream, Paige, and I’m so thankful that I get to do life with you. I’m thankful you understand me in the way that you do and I’m thankful that you push me every day to be better. I’m thankful that you love me unconditionally. My vow to you is that I will love you unconditionally. I promise you we’re a team and there’s nothing we can’t figure out. I promise to give you my all, to give our family my all. You’re my best friend, my person, and after today, my wife. I was yours before we even knew what loving each other meant and I’ll be yours forever – when we’re old and arguing about whose dentures were left on the nightstand, when we’re nothing but specks of stardust in space, when we’re in the next life together because there’s just not a world where you and I exist and I don’t fall for you. I love you endlessly, proudly, without reservation, and with every inch of my being.”

By the time she finishes, a tear is sliding down Paige’s cheek, and Tess wipes it away with a giggle. “I’on know how I can match that,” Paige jokes, drawing a fuller laugh from Tess, but she squeezes her hands gently. Paige’s eyes shine in the setting sunlight, holding so much warmth and wonder that Tess feels her heart swell at the sheer amount of love that she sees reflected in her features. “The first time we spoke, like actually spoke to each other, you said somethin’ that stuck with me for years. I was annoying you, tryna get you to tell me your middle name, and eventually you told me, ‘home is a feeling.’ I thought I knew what you meant by that. I always felt like myself on the court. I felt like no matter what, there was always gonna be a place I belonged as long as I had a ball in my hand. But as I got to know you, I realized there was more to that. A home isn’t just somewhere you belong – it’s somewhere you’re accepted and loved, where you can just be. As soon as I realized I felt at home with you, I knew there was no way I could ever only be your friend.

“You get me like no one else ever has, and it should be scary, but it’s not. It never is with you. It’s like this intense feeling of relief ‘cause you know you don’t gotta do it alone. That’s just who we are, right? We work together, we take care of each other, and we bicker and flirt and tease each other like it’s the first day we met all over again. That’s what I can – what I will promise you: I’ll love you more and more every day and cherish the time we spend together. As long as you’re with me, you don’t gotta be scared of anything. I promise to take care of you, of your heart, of our family, our future. I love you. That’s never gonna change. I thank God every day that our paths crossed and I got my chance with you, no matter how difficult our journey was. But it’s our journey and that’s why it’s so important to me. I wouldn’t change a single thing about us. You’re the best part of my life and I’m so excited to grow old with you – and, just to be clear, you’re the one leavin’ your dentures everywhere.” That’s enough to make Tess roll her eyes, giggling despite the tears beading at her waterline. One manages to slip through and Paige doesn’t hesitate before she’s wiping it off her cheek, her subsequent smile so soft and full of a warmth that would make the Dallas heat feel like it’s freezing. “I love you, Tess; you’re my better half, my purpose, and my home. You’ve made me the happiest woman in the world and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Paige finishes, and it takes all of Tess’s willpower to hold her composure as her bottom lip wobbles. Kamilla spent an hour on her make up – she’s not going to start crying until they’ve both said I do and they’ve sealed it with a kiss. The officiant smiles, gently requesting the rings – Drew and Kamilla hand them off to Paige and Tess respectively. Paige squeezes her hand, trying to calm the tremors, but they’re both shaking from excitement and anticipation. 

“Tess, do you take Paige to be your lawfully wedded spouse, to have and to hold from this day forward, in sickness and in health? Do you promise to keep yourself open to Paige, to allow her to see through the windows of your world and into your innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams? Do you promise to grow alongside Paige, willing to face changes as you both change in order to keep your relationship alive and exciting? Do you promise to love Paige in good times and in bad, with all you have to give, and all you feel inside, completely and forever?”

“I do,” Tess responds confidently, her voice strong and clear. Paige smiles at her as she slowly slides the wedding band onto her finger, the ring glimmering in the last remnants of the sunlight.

“Paige, do you take Tess to be your lawfully wedded spouse, to have and to hold from this day forward, in sickness and in health? Do you promise to keep yourself open to Tess, to allow her to see through the windows of your world and into your innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams? Do you promise to grow alongside Tess, willing to face changes as you both change in order to keep your relationship alive and exciting? Do you promise to love Tess in good times and in bad, with all you have to give, and all you feel inside, completely and forever?”

Paige’s response is instant. “I do,” she states. She’s grinning widely, her eyes watering with happy tears as she slides the ring onto Tess’s finger, exhaling deeply in sheer contentedness as soon as it’s on. The ring is gorgeous, a perfect match to the engagement ring on her opposite hand, but Tess’s attention is captured by Paige wholly. It’s been like this for years – at the end of the day, Paige is truly the only person who is able to hold Tess’s attention. Ever since their initial fake dating agreement, Tess hasn’t looked at a single person since. Her heart was Paige’s from the day they met, and after their vows, their rings, and their marriage sealing kiss, her heart will remain in Paige’s tender care for the rest of their lifetimes.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you both married. You may now–”

Paige’s hands find her hips before the officiant can even finish their sentence, pulling her into her body and capturing her lips in a kiss that’s equal parts delicate, encompassing, and a testament of all the things they’ve been through to get here. ACLs, arguments, misunderstandings, the feeling that it was easier to pretend they didn’t love each other than to confess what they both knew to be true. Paige was right – this journey was theirs, and Tess wouldn’t change a single thing about them. In the end, they made it here on their own time after they learned crucial lessons about each other and about love. Their journey has been nothing short of perfect and as long as Paige is the one that she gets to experience life with, then Tess is all too happy to see where the wind takes them now that they’re married.

Their friends and family applaud for them and the officiant has moved out of the way for the photographer, but neither of them are paying attention to much of anything that’s not each other. Paige’s smile is bright, blinding despite the rising moonlight. The sheer happiness on her face is difficult to describe but Tess knows it, knows Paige well enough at this point. She fists her hands in the collar of Paige’s top, pulling her back down, grinning against her and laughing when Paige lifts her gently off the ground. The last kiss she presses to her lips is softer, but it’s a lingering promise that feels like returning home all over again.

(And, for the record, when Tess and Paige arrive at the Valkyries facility for their first practice of the season, they are met with gift boxes nestled in their lockers right next to each other. They open the boxes together, finding their matching home and away game jerseys, the name on the back proudly reading BUECKERS-KENNEDY.)

[diarylogbook08]

🌈 Ateez as Dads

Because let's be honest the world needs soft-but-sometime-confused ATEEZ dads content. And also because imagining these chaotic men as soft, loving fathers is just healing ✨

Pairing : Ot8 Genre : fluff W.c : ~ 2,10 K Requested : no ✨ Self-induced chaos. No one asked. I delivered anyway. ✨ Warnings : lots of chaotic and cuteness be ready to handle it ! Taglist : @miracle-sol Want to be tagged in future headcanons or updates? Drop a comment or DM me anytime! I don’t bite (unless you're cake 🍰👀​😜​) Requests : OPEN ✨click here to send yours. Please note that I may politely decline if I don’t feel comfortable with the topic. Kindness only here 🫶

Time to dive in ! Here’s what kind of dads I think each members would be 🧸 (enjoy your reading!)

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✦ Hongjoong — The “Creative Project Dad”

👶 Newborn

Calm on the outside, absolutely spiraling inside. Reads like at least 5 parenting books and watched more than 100 videos about it. Freaked out by the responsibility and overthinking everything: “Is the air too dry in the room? Should we move countries?”

Cries silently while holding the baby for the first time. Wears sunglasses in the hospital like, “No I’m fine.”

Googles EVERYTHING. The baby sneezed? “What does it mean if a newborn sneezes 3 times in a row?”

Becomes the kind of dad who wants you to sleep while he walks in circles at 3 AM to make the baby sleep. Only for you to find him in the morning asleep on the couch with your baby on his stomach sleeping comfortably.

Would also sometimes act like a child when you give all your attention to the kids just to get your attention.

“I am not jealous, just starving kisses and cuddles” (but he definitely is).

🚼 Toddler

Cries at every milestone. She says "appa" for the first time and he’s sobbing in the studio.

Teaches his 3 y/o how to use a glue gun (supervised… kinda).

Encourages “painting outside the lines” and proudly displays every glitter‑covered masterpiece on the fridge.

Always has a DIY craft station set up in the garage.

Totally the “girl dad” energy: bows in their hair, tea parties with the stuffed animals, and matching outfits on Sunday mornings. Has matching nail polish with his daughter and wears it proudly.

Acts like a playful kid to keep their attention—jumps on the sofa, demands “daddy duel!”

Secretly sneaks finger‑paints into their school art kit so they “express themself fully.”

Kid never leaves the house without looking like a tiny fashion icon because he picks their outfits.

Soft scolding like: “Sweetheart, what do we say about throwing glitter in the bathtub?”

Gets emotional during school plays and records EVERYTHING.

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✦ Seonghwa — The “Warm & Wise Dad”

👶 Newborn

You better believe this man is READY. Basically a second mom. Diaper changing station? Organized. Baby closet? Labeled by size & color. You forget to feed the pet ? Don't worry he's on it or ahead of you.

Holds the baby like they're made of pure glass for the first 3 months.

Wakes up before the baby does just to make sure they’re breathing. “Should we get a monitor that tracks breathing?”

Wants to sanitize visitors before they enter the house.

Baby has a skincare routine (hypoallergenic, fragrance-free OFC)

Gets emotional over lost baby teeth.

🚼 Toddler

WILL ABSOLUTELY. Bubble wrap the whole house (or the kid ?) because freaks out if he gets hurt. Constantly worried they’ll trip on the stairs or something. Has a tiny first-aid kit in the diaper bag, the car, and every room.

Equal parts “girl dad” & “boy dad” — flips flawlessly between helping braid hair and coaching on football tricks.

Will cry at everything they do. Every drawing. Every recital.

Teaches them sportsmanship by letting them win at soccer… then shows them how to really score.

PTA's favorite dad

His kid’s lunchboxes look like a bento box commercial—cut-out fruits and all. With an additional cute notes to remind them how much he loves them.

When they are upset, he makes them a cup of hot cocoa and says, “It’s okay to feel all the feelings.”

Builds LEGOs together but definitely is more into it than the kid.

Definitely owns a “#1 Dad” mug and actually earned it.

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✦ Yunho — The “Adventurous Dad”

👶 Newborn

Immediately obsessed. “LOOK AT THEIR LITTLE FINGERS?? IS THIS LEGAL??”

Is way too entertained by baby giggles. Makes silly faces and weird voices until the baby is laughing. You’ve never seen the baby laugh harder.

😱 First diaper? Nearly passed out. But once he gets used to it: ALL-IN DAD MODE.

Panic level when the baby cries—instantly drops into full “serious dad” mode. Dances around with the baby on his shoulder to get them to burp.

Already planning themed birthday parties with matching costumes.

His lullabies turn into full Disney musical productions.

🚼 Toddler

Throws his kids in the air and catches them like it’s the Olympics, either turns everything into a game or competition.

“What do you mean the twins are climbing on the fridge !?” Low-key gives you cardiac arrest when he tells you what the kids are doing and you aren't home.

Will absolutely build blanket forts and live in them.

Makes the best bedtime stories, complete with voices and dramatic flair.

Is the reason they think jumping off the couch is an Olympic sport.

Always doing goofy dances together — viral TikTok duo.

He’s giant but somehow always ends up with 3 princess stickers on his face.

When they stumble, he’s the calm voice: “You’ve got this, champ.”

Major “boy dad” vibes: teaches you how to whistle with grass, ties your shoelaces in perfect double knots. but if he has a girl ends up being a total softie with her.

Dad who volunteers for school field trips and ends up with a group of 8 kids calling him "Uncle Yuyu."

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✦ Yeosang — The “Cool Mysterious But Loving Dad”

👶 Newborn

Stares at the baby like an alien at first. Not scared, just like “…what is it thinking?”

Isn’t super expressive, but incredibly dependable. You tell him what the baby needs, he delivers.

Catches feelings when the baby smiles at him for the first time and doesn’t recover.

Baby falls asleep on his chest? Cancel his plans, he’s not moving for 4 hours.

Once the baby starts babbling? That’s HIS bestie now.

“My baby is the cutest in the world. No, I don’t care what yours looks like.”

🚼 Toddler

Quietly obsessed with his kids, just doesn’t post about them.

Will suddenly show up with the most perfect custom birthday cake.

Reads bedtime stories in different voices (they beg for his “dragon” voice).

Not overtly cuddly, but the best at calm advice and gentle affirmations.

Leaves post‑it notes on the fridge with little reminders (“Don’t forget your lunch!”) decorated with doodles.

Honestly just wants his kids to feel safe and heard.

Leaning more “girl dad,” he helps curl her hair with his straightener and hands her lip balm like a pro. Acts like he’s not totally wrapped around her little finger (he ACTUALLY is).

Always has emergency snacks—granola bars, fruit leather, glittery water bottles.

Tells mildly embarrassing “when-I-was-your-age” stories.

Buys her a sword and teaches her self-defense “for science.”

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✦ San — The “The Puppy Dad With a Side of Overprotective Lion”

👶 Newborn

Most likely to cry in the delivery room. Sobs.

Does not want to put the baby down. At all. Like, ever. You will NEVER get to hold the baby if San gets to them first.

“Did you hear that? My heart just exploded.”—refuses to put baby down.

😭 Cries more than the baby. Overwhelmed with love. In tears watching his kid sleep because “they’re just so small and perfect.”

Most likely to whisper, “Hi, I’m your daddy” in the softest tone ever.

Insists on taking the night shifts so you can sleep.

🚼 Toddler

Girl dad to the max. Princess dresses? He owns three. Let's her paint his nails in pink or whatever because it makes her happy.

Cuddles all day. ALL. DAY.

Says “I love you” like 20x a day. Overprotective but also will let them dress up the dog.

Teaches the kid to love themselves loudly and unapologetically.

Gets teary when she calls him “her hero”.

But will glare at another 3 y/o if they push her on the playground.

Takes a million pictures. Half of them are blurry.

So. Much. Energy. He’s crawling around pretending to be a dinosaur with zero shame.

Does the “baby voice” in public, doesn’t care who hears.

Somehow always has snacks. Where are they coming from? No one knows.

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✦ Mingi — The “Fun-Loving and Chaotic Dad”

👶 Newborn

“Wait—so we’re in charge now? Forever?”

😳 Lowkey freaked out at first. The moment the baby cries, he panics like, “Did I break it??” Tries to be cool but panics every time the baby cries.

Kinda useless at the beginning, asks 1000 questions: “What do I do with its head??”, “Is this sound normal?? Are babies supposed to hiccup like that??” Call or text his mom 20 times a day to ask her all his silly questions.

Most likely to panic dramatically and yell “WHAT DO I DOOOO??” when the baby poops for the first time. Runs around like his hair’s on fire at first but learns fast.

Has actual conversations with the baby even when it can’t talk. “Okay but think about it, little dude, what if gravity is just a lie?”

Slowly grows into it – starts humming lullabies, doing silly voices, and snuggling without realizing it.

🚼 Toddler

His kids are the loudest but the happiest.

Gender doesn’t matter — if they vibe with chaos, he vibes back.

Constantly trying to keep up with Gen Alpha slang and failing.

Kid is like “Dad you’re embarrassing me” and he just says “it’s my job.”

Has no idea how to braid hair but tries every time.

He’s their #1 hype man: “THAT’S MY BOY! LOOK AT HIM SLIDE!”

Teaches them TikTok dances and does them in grocery stores.

Tries to be serious during discipline but breaks into giggles mid-scolding.

Lets them get away with stuff if they use cute voices

Encourages every wild idea: “You want to be an astronaut-chef? Absolutely.”

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✦ Wooyoung — The “Sass King Dad With a Heart of Gold”

👶 Newborn

😵 LOSES HIS MIND when baby first arrives – not from fear, just excitement + chaos.

He’s in love with the baby, but also a little jealous.

Acts like a child to get your attention when you're baby-focused too long: “What about meeee? I need kisses too 😤.”

Will try to hold baby AND make dinner at once – dangerous, but he tries.

Gives the baby five nicknames within the first hour.

Records every tiny moment like it’s the most important thing in the world.

🚼 Toddler

Raises little divas who know their worth.

Girl dad teaches her TikTok dances, braids friendship bracelets, and does nail art in the living room. But she bullies him lovingly and he LOVES it.

Wraps them in hugs at random intervals—no escape.

Encourages self‑expression: “Wear that neon dress! Life’s too short to be boring.”

Bakes banana bread together on Sundays and also bakes pink cupcakes “just because.”

Kid learns sass directly from the source and Wooyoung is so proud.

Very “I’m not just a dad, I’m a cool dad”.

Literally cries when they outgrow their baby shoes.

Overprotective. Any kid who even looks at her funny gets the “I know where your mom lives” stare.

The “bad influence” dad. Teaches the kid to prank people (including you). But acts offended when he gets pranked back.

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✦ Jongho — The “Protective Gentle Dad”

👶 Newborn

ZERO panic. It's almost unsettling how chill he is. but is secretly having a full existential crisis about being a dad.

Baby crying? He's already got the bottle warmed.

Insists on you resting while he takes the night shift. “You carried them for 9 months. Let me carry this part.”

Doesn’t need to be taught how to swaddle – he just figures it out.

Baby falls asleep faster in his arms than anyone else's.

Holds the baby so gently and carefully, the baby is so soothed by him it’s like he came with a dad manual and everyone’s like, “Were you secretly a dad already?”

🚼 Toddler

Carrying 2 kids, 3 bags, a stroller, and still has a free hand for juice boxes.

Boy dad through and through, but his daughter? Wrapped around his pinky!

Checks every closed door, tucks them in, and quietly stands guard until they fall asleep.

Makes sure the kid eats their veggies and does their reading.

Gives piggyback rides to school, then helps braid hair for picture day.

Surprisingly soft-spoken at home — reads classic stories at bedtime, sings them lullabies to sleep.

Lifts his kid up to see everything — parades, planes, grocery shelves.

Will absolutely not tolerate disrespect, but is the first to defend his kid with his whole chest.

Doesn’t say much, but when he does, it sticks.

Helps with homework like, “No, we don’t give up. Try again.” Cue Rocky soundtrack.

☆･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･☆･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:☆

And that concludes this deep-dive into how I think our favorite chaotic pirate kings would become the softest, most loving dads ever. From glitter explosions to midnight cuddles, they’d give their all—just like they always do. 🫶 what more could you want?

👀 A Part 2? Maybe “ATEEZ as dads when their kids become teens”? Or got your own suggestions ? Drop them in the comments—I’d love to hear them! Let me know—my brain is always chaotic and open for business.

Thank you for joining me on this journey 💕 If you read all the way through, Which ATEEZ dad are you adopting as your emotional support today? Let me know your fav in comments ! Reblogs & comments make my day.

Until next time, stay soft and chaotic 💕

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Hello pufavo you could headcanon in yu yu hakusho your girlfriend (reader) using your blouses 👕 staying one dress in her please I I would appreciate it ❤️❤️

Hello!

Thank you for requesting and i am sorry for taking so long!

From what i got from your request, you wish a scenario/ HC about reader wearing they boys shirt right? As you did not mention which character i will write for the main four!

Also, gender neutral, for inclusion :3 A bit short, though.

Reminder that YYH is not on the current list. I am writing this because idk, i felt like it, Please check the Rules page before requesting.

I hope this is of your liking please let me know what you think!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Yusuke

Most of the time Yusuke is wearing a white T-shirt, so it might take him a little awhile to figure out that is his shirt you are wearing,

Boy has tons of them, might even go unnoticed.

Now, if you try to wear one of his jackets, then, for sure he will notice.

At first he would be slightly confused. Why are you wearing his clothes?

But then he would get a cocky grin on his face and tease you about missing him so much you stole his clothes.

Be prepared for the teasing hell!

If you get too embarrassed and try to return it, he will turn it down.

Saying you look better than him on that jacket, but also complain you could have asked for it instead of just taking it.

Yusuke is lowkey very happy.

When you eventually return it, he will take a note of how it smells of you. He loves it!

From now he will tease you asking if you stole another clothes of his.

Kuwabara

Unlike Yusuke he has a bit more color range from his shirts, but still mostly white or black.

But Kuwabara will quickly noticed you are wearing his shirt.

How? It doesn't quite fit you. Whether is because is too big or too large? He can't explain, it just not fit you right.

Will get shy af and very confused too.

If you offer to return it, he will stumble on his words, but turn it down.

He will say ( or try to) that you look cute! He loves seeing you wearing his shirt!

Boy is beyond happy doesn't even try to hide it.

When you eventually return it, he will cherish that shirt - it smells like you. A bit weird? yeah, but you have no idea how happy he was!

Lowkey hopes you steal other shirts in the future!

He will be ready to lend you his jacket, at anytime too!

Hiei

Well, Hiei owns only black clothes that are tank top like.

But he will notice right away that you are wearing something that is his.

He will make a snarky remark asking if you have no clothes of your own to wear.

He doesn't mean to be rude or mean, it's just, an unexpected behaviour.

He doesn't know how to feel. What is this warm feeling?

If you try to return it, he will turn it down.

Saying that if you got, you probably need it. Will also tell you to shop for more clothes.

When you eventually return it, he will just stare at you and the shirt before taking it - doing a little hmpf.

Will ask you if you finally bought new clothes too.

But deep now, he did not mind that you took it.

If he sees you are cold, he will toss his shirt ( or cape!) at you. No words, just tossing it.

Lowkey hopes you do it again, will never admit it, but he adored your smell on his stuff.

Kurama

Probably the one of the most clothing choice.

Will also notice right away that you are wearing his clothes. Oh he knows just by one look.

At first Kurama won't say anything, just smile.

He finds it beyond adorable to see you wearing his clothes.

But he will eventually ask you " is that mine?" in the most random time possible to catch you off guard.

His goal? Make you embarrassed.

If you offer to return it, he will turn it down and say it looks a lot better in you.

He absolutely loves how embarrassed you got!

When you eventually return it, he will smile at you and thank you.

You can't tell by his expression but he is very very happy.

Because now his shirt smells like you, his favourite scent.

Like Kuwabara he will offer you his jacket anytime and/or he will gently place it on your shoulders and just smile.

He is dying to tease you about it again, he lives for your embarrassed face!

So be prepared for more random questions or answers if someone's asks why you are wearing his clothes!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for requsting! i hope this was of your liking!

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hanma hc's?????

Sure, there are the ones I have for him!

Doesn't get genuine compliments that often so they catch him off guard when he does get them.

Can be a bit of a messy eater

Is very good at pickpocketing 

He's the type of person who can fall asleep anywhere, chair, bed, floor, laundry pile. He can sleep on any of them.

He likes perfumes a lot, not on himself particularly but he appreciates and notices when someone walks past him and they have a nice smell as they pass.

Went through a phase where anytime would ask him his name he'd make up a ridiculous one and try to pass it off as being real.

Has escaped after being handcuffed by police at least once.

Will sometimes watch clouds but comes up with the weirdest ideas for what they look like "that ones a guy getting stabbed"

The first time he killed someone in the future timelines he cried in the shower after. He didn't feel sad and didn't care but  still cried, he never understood why.

Still gets close to Kazutora in the good timeline and they become friends.

Tried to convinve Kisaki he was into bird watching once, wanted to see how long it took him to realise he was just saying random words as bird names.

Chifuyu is one of his favourite people to joke around with because he's so easy to make annoyed.

Didn't do a very good job with caring for his tattoos after he got them done, luckily didn't get an infection though.

Actually became good friends with Emma in the good timeline (originally became close with her to see Mikey and Draken's reactions but realised he actually liked hanging out with her)

Building on from the last point, he has crashed been on at least one "girls night out" trip with the other girls.

Occasionally when he's having a slow day with his photography in the good timeline, he'll snap a few selfie shots out of boredom. 

Sings very loudly

He's very good at remembering names and faces

Moves around a bit in his sleep, if someone shares a bed with him they will sometimes get kicked in the middle of the night

Has stolen Kisakis glasses to try on before (and did a Kisaki impression while wearing them)

In the bad toman timeline (and a lot of the others) he actually got bored after Kisaki's success with toman. The chase and getting to the top thrilled him a lot more then actually being there. 

Despite the kind of wild wedding all of his friend's imagine him wanting, he actually just wants something small and intimate if he ever gets married.

Is a master of stealing food from other peoples plates

In a relationship he uses pet names ironically/ as a joke at first but then actually realises he likes it.

Has been kicked out of at least three libraries

Anytime he actually went to school he passed the time by either sleeping or passing random notes he wrote to random people and watching their reactions.

Likes soft things, such as hair or fur. 

In the bad toman timeline, if he murdered someone and a documentary was made about the killing/ mystery, he'd grab a bowl of popcorn and happily watch it.

[glowettee]

HIIII. i literally love your blog to death. it's so cute. and it's so informative.

Do you have any tips for making friends? i struggle soooo much with making friends! thank you mindy!

hi angel! 🌸 thank you for your sweet message about my blog! making friends can be super challenging, especially when you're focused on big dreams like med school and business like me. (trust me, i totally get it). let me share my detailed guide on making meaningful connections !

a guide to making friends (for ambitious sweethearts) ♡

understanding the basics of friendship: friendship is like a dance between two souls. it requires patience, understanding, and genuine interest in others. as someone who loves psychology, i've noticed that the strongest friendships are built on:

mutual understanding

shared values

consistent communication

emotional safety

reciprocal support

where to find friends (places i've had success):

academic settings

honors/ap classes (found my study buddy in ap bio!)

study groups (perfect for combining socializing and academics)

library study sessions

academic clubs (pre-med society changed my life)

business club meetings

extracurricular activities

volunteer work at local hospitals, clinics, animal shelters

business competitions

leadership workshops

student government

entrepreneurship clubs

psychology-backed friendship tips: (combining my psych knowledge with real experience)

first impressions

maintain soft eye contact

practice open body language

speak clearly but softly

show genuine interest

remember names (psychology trick: repeat it 3 times mentally)

conversation skills

ask open-ended questions

practice active listening

share relevant personal experiences

validate others' feelings

use "yes, and" technique to build on topics

maintaining friendships

schedule regular study dates (if you're a student)

create shared goals

celebrate each other's achievements

offer emotional support

respect boundaries

balancing friendships with ambition: as someone pursuing both medicine and business, i understand time management is crucial. here's how i maintain friendships while staying focused:

study together

share academic resources

create accountability partnerships

schedule friendship time like meetings

combine social time with productive activities

common friendship challenges and solutions:

feeling too busy solution: integrate friends into your routine (study sessions, lunch breaks)

social anxiety solution: start with one-on-one interactions in comfortable settings

fear of rejection solution: remember that everyone feels this way sometimes

maintaining boundaries solution: be clear about your time constraints and priorities

different interests solution: find common ground in shared goals and ambitions

red flags to watch for: (important)

friends who don't respect your academic goals, career goals, life goals etc..

people who make you feel bad about your ambitions

toxic competition

inconsistent support

emotional drainage

green flags to look for: (important)

mutual encouragement

respect for boundaries

genuine interest in your success

emotional availability

consistent communication

note:

quality over quantity always

true friends support your dreams

it's okay to be selective

friendship takes time to develop

your academic goals matter too

personal note: i've found my closest friends through shared interests in medicine and business. we study together, support each other's goals, and understand when we need to focus on academics. these friendships are extra special because they align with our future paths.

i'm naturally an introvert and i tend to isolate myself a lot, but the friends i have are super understanding and support me, and i couldn't ask for better friends <3

sending you the sweetest vibes and hoping you find your perfect friend group! remember, the right friends will celebrate your ambitions, not dim your shine. ✨

love always, mindy

p.s. feel free to message me anytime for more specific advice! we're all in this together. 🤍

[laroserie]

— character : yandere!omega oc

— content : x beta gender neutral reader , bullets point , yandere , unhealthy / toxic behavior , omegaverse , yandere!omega oc is a he / him pronouns && he is described as feminine , reader is 'you' and is kinda obvious

— authors note : this is more like small headcanons mixed with a bit of story. i had a shit ton of daydreams about it but urgh i hate it but i haven't posted in a while so

⦁ you and yandere!omega have been friends since childhood ! you both lived close, went to the same primary school so it was not surprise that you both became friends. up until high school you both had a pretty regular friendship, yes you were close but not too close.

⦁ at least it's how you saw it, to him you were his precious dear friend. he used to get bullied a lot because of his 'feminine' body and face but you were always here for him, to support him, telling him 'Asper, you are so handsome, they tell you that kind of stuff because they are jealous of you !'. he started loving you from that time onwards. he kept his feelings for himself wanting to keep being friends, just being at your side was enough for him

⦁ in middle school you both learned more in depth about 'secondary gender' and ... Asper had this fantasy of you both becoming a pair, he honestly didn't care either he'd be the alpha or omega, he just wanted you to be his counterpart so you could form a bond together and be linked together for ever.

⦁ and it was during your first year of high school that you got tested to know your secondary gender. Asper was ... ecstatic to say the least when he got his result - sure, being a omega may mean facing a bit of discrimination but he was a omega ! which mean he could be your mate ! he was so sure you were an alpha, he was so ready to confess his love to you and ask you to bite and claim him, for him to be your and for you to his.

⦁ after reading his result he directly turned to you - you were seated in the seat behind him, and he showed you the paper with the result, smiling at you.

"Look ~ I told you I was either a omega or an alpha right ! Soo what are you ?" He asked you, expecting for you to answer 'alpha'

"I'm a beta, I mean it was to expect so I'm not disappointed or extremely happy" You answered, showing him

⦁ it's at this moment that his world shattered. the future we prepared for the both of you got ruined. he wasn't expecting ... this outcome - in his mind it could be impossible for you, his beloved friend, to be a beta, he didn't have anythings against them but ! you both were made for each others, you both needed to form a bond, needed to be a pair !

⦁ it changed his behaviour toward you - he was being a little bit more on edge when you were talking to others people. he know that forming a bond could be impossible and so he needed to protect you ! from everyone, mainly others betas but also alphas and omegas !

⦁ to ensure that you could not get snatched away by anyone else, he could rub his scent all over you and yours clothes and of course get your scent all over him too.

⦁ anytime an alpha could start talking to you, Asper could get in between you two and start flirting with the alpha, it disgusted him and he felt so ... dirty doing that but he didn't know how to have them give up on approaching you others than making them put all of their attention on him - he thought that he may as well use being an omega to his advantage

⦁ he also used being an omega to manipulate others into leaving you alone or talk about how you and Asper are made for each others and that your secondary genders shouldn't matter

⦁ he showed you stories about omega and beta being together to send you 'hints' - he even directly told you,

"Honestly ... I think I could prefer dating a beta more than an alpha ~ They are such big pricks that think they are sooo much better because of their secondary genders. Betas are so much softer and kind ~"

And was quite distraught when you told him that you hoped 'he could find a good beta partner then !'

⦁ on the topic of you being obvious to him 'clearly' giving you hints, Asper steal your clothes and make a nest with it, and he doesn't hid it from you, directly asking you for your t-shirt or hoodie even if you are currently wearing them.

[demon-country]

One thing I think people tend to forget is that, due to how short the episodes are and how few there have been despite the large time frame that's been covered so far, we know very little about the lives of any of the characters. Including Blitz, who is the main character. We've only seen a handful of interactions between Stolas and Blitz and even fewer solo scenes regarding how they feel about their relationship, and they're all important because they set up future plot points, but they're not in depth and thus are functionally taken out of context. We can only speculate about stuff like some of the memory fragments in All 2 U or the exact content of the many phone calls between Blitz and Stolas, using deductive reasoning to figure out what makes the most sense given the clues we have.

There's so much that the writers are forced to only drop hints and subtext about, because they simply do not have the time to explore things more if they don't want to drag the show out forever, so people who don't pay close enough attention or who don't want to acknowledge the romantic feelings between Blitz and Stolas end up saying that things went too fast. It's like, guys, you know they've been interacting for over 20 months, right? Surely you can't think the few minutes of them we've seen on screen is indicative of their entire relationship, right??? It only seems fast now because it was really important to show the rapid paradigm shift that happened as a result of the crystal exchange.

And while we're at it, this is what bothers me so much when people say Stolas probably doesn't know Moxxie and Millie's names. Stolas has, by Blitz's own admission in Oops, been interacting with him on social media and calling Blitz on the regular to ask about his day for about a year and a half, if we don't count the months where they didn't talk after Ozzie's. And note that even though this is part of his rant about how Stolas is only using him for sex, Blitz doesn't mention phone sex, he only says that Stolas calls to ask about his day - meaning that they must actually end up talking about what Blitz has been up to fairly often. When put into that context, do you honestly think that Blitz has somehow never once mentioned Moxxie and Millie by name?

Moxxie, Millie, and especially Loona are very important to Blitz and Stolas would undoubtedly remember their names for that reason alone, but they're also a huge part of his everyday life so they're gonna come up in conversation pretty often, both on social media and anytime Blitz indulged Stolas and talked about his day. Blitz has probably ranted about something Moxxie did fairly often during his phone calls with Stolas, and where Moxxie is mentioned so too will Millie inevitably be brought up. And you know Blitz wouldn't miss an opportunity to gush about how perfect and amazing Loona is. All of which we can infer due to the fact that Blitz does all of those things many times in a variety of settings over the course of the series.

The assumption that he doesn't know their names is ultimately based solely on the belief that, because Stolas has certain unconscious racial and class biases, he must not care about any imp other than Blitz, to the point where he'd have had to intentionally ignore and forget every mention of their names to not know them by this point. Stolas has a lot of shit he needs to unlearn and has said/done a number of harmful, demeaning things to imps (including to Moxxie and Millie in Loo Loo Land), but this is not one of them.

[sleepyhutcherson]

hello! may I please request something fluffy where the reader and Mike Schmidt have a talk about marriage and their future together? thanks so much for sharing your writings!

restless nights.

MIKE SCHMIDT X GN!READER

summary: mike can’t sleep even after a long late shift, which gives him a lot of time to think and realise how much he truly loves you and how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

word count: 1.0k

tags: established relationship, fluff, talk of marriage, talk of having kids someday, mike struggling with sleep, no use of y/n, this takes place 6 years after the fnaf movie events.

author’s note: honestly, not a fan of marriage but i would immediately marry mike if he asked me to. would not even have to think it twice. thank you for your request anon! i really enjoyed writing this, hope you love it 🫶🫶 sorry for the rough writing, i had trouble writing this one im not gonna lie 😭 i think i restarted this one six times 😮‍💨 but thank you sofia ( @olliebjorkstrand ) for helping me come up with an idea TE AMOOO <3

Despite Mike’s recent late shifts, he can’t seem to fall asleep. He tried shifting around in bed, fluffing his pillow, and changing positions several times but nothing seemed to work. He’s given up, deciding to merely lay on his back and face the ceiling he once relied on many years ago when a poster was still taped on it. The memory forces him to shut his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. His hand subconsciously makes its way to where you’re sleeping beside him, tangling his fingers through your soft hair bringing him the solace he craved this entire time. He envied how peacefully asleep you were, not having to shift around or beg to a God to help you rest at least a few hours like he had.

His fingers lace through your hair, gentle enough not to wake you, a small smile curling up on his chapped lips when he hears your soft snores. He couldn’t envy you for much longer, fully enamoured by your serene state. He turned his head to the side to look at you, though your back was turned to him he wouldn’t miss the chance to admire your bare back. His hand moved down from your head, his fingers dragging down to your back where he gently drew patterns simply to feel your delicate skin under his digits.

Honestly, this is better than sleep. He would take this over sleep anytime.

“You can’t sleep, can you?”

Mike retreats his hand, surprised by your sudden question. He thought you were sleeping. Were you awake this entire time? Maybe his touch had woken you.

“You’re awake?” He asks. You giggle at how groggy yet startled he sounds, turning around to face him now. He looked exhausted, to say the least. His eyes were slightly droopy with fatigue, eyebags prominent from countless restless nights.

“No.” You reply, both of you face-to-face now, smiling a little.

Mike’s hand cups your cheek, his calloused palm rough against your smooth, soft skin. He lightly strokes your cheek with his thumb, his eyes hazy as he stares at you with such fondness. You looked so perfect, you always did to him. He absolutely adored everything about you; the softness of your hair, your delicate skin and the way it flushed whenever he touched you, like now. He chuckles at the pink that tints your cheeks, such a pretty shade on such precious skin.

“What?” You ask with a nervous giggle. Something about having Mike look at you like this always made you feel a little nervous, even after all this time.

Mike shakes his head a little, continuing to gaze at you with glistening eyes. “Nothing,” he says at first, wanting to continue to admire you like this. God, he loved you. It was such a heavy feeling, but he didn’t mind how heavy it was, he would carry it if it meant he had the privilege of loving you.

A thought occurs to him, one that isn’t at all unfamiliar. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, that was always clear to him: he also wondered how marrying you would be like. He thought about it before, a few years into your relationship—about marrying you—and even wondered if you would want to marry him. You both barely mentioned marriage though. It was never a conversation you two had seriously but right now he thinks maybe it should be something you two should talk about.

How should he bring it up though, right?

He feels quite nervous and even a little shy about talking about this. What if you weren’t on the same page? God, that would be embarrassing. Maybe he shouldn’t even ask at all—save him from the embarrassment.

Fuck but he really wanted to know.

“I want to marry you.”

It comes out before he can even stop himself from saying it. He watches your expression, the way your eyes go wide and honestly he’s not sure if your reaction is a good one or a bad one.

“Wha—what?” You ask, caught off guard by his words and the sincerity behind them. You had never given it much thought before—marrying Mike, that is. Not because you didn’t want to but because neither of you ever brought it up, not seriously at least.

Not until now. Because Mike’s expression and words were genuine, no joke behind them.

“Yeah, what do you think?” He asks with a hint of anxiety to his voice. He was nervous, you could tell by the way he kept blinking his eyes.

It isn’t something you have to really think about. You and Mike have been together for six years, he was the only person who you could really picture yourself marrying.

A small smile creeps on your lips and Mike feels a hint of relief at the sight. You reach out to move a few curls away from Mike’s face giving you an excuse to touch him. He relaxes under your ethereal touch, practically melting under you.

“I would love to marry you, Mike.” You whisper to him. You love the way his eyes light up, the corners of his eyes crinkling up when he smiles.

It doesn’t take long before Mike pushes himself up so he can hover over you, his hands on either side of your head keeping him up before he leans down to kiss you. He pours his heart into the soft kiss, it’s not anything rough but instead something almost pure and tender. You kiss him back, inching slightly up to get more of him which causes him to chuckle softly. He pulls away from your lips then, only to pepper the rest of your face with innocent kisses.

He pauses briefly only to look at you—to really look at you. He loved you so much it almost kills him. He adored the way you looked at him with your pretty eyes, the smile on your lips, your fingers in his hair the way he loved it, how your eyelashes batted slightly. You were perfect for him.

He felt lucky being yours.

masterlist (for more of my works)

taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @ploty-twist @jhutch-bf @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @sofiehutch @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth @fallingboba @cassiecasluciluce @maticka @jhutchissupercool ♡︎

[gerry-the-archivist]

asks are open!

(please read this post before interacting!)

hey, er- gerard delano. he/they. friends call me gerry.

i'm the head archivist of the magnus institute, unfortunately. i take statements, investigate them, do organization, all that, since… it's my job now. well- not really, this isn't really a real job... but i still do them. need to.

i doubt that elias would let me just fuck around on this blog and do whatever, but i also hate the guy, and the job, so. feel free to ask and tell me whatever you want. i don't care.

my assistants- jon, martin, tim, and sasha- pop in from time to time. oh and— cam (@cam-eye-intern) too, i suppose. they’re an intern, which. i didn’t know we did! you can say hi to all of them and whatnot, just respect them.

so... yeah, that's.. that's all. i'm just...

dammit why'd i take this fucking job—

ooc:

hihihi! you may notice, if you were here before the pause, that this is a new pinned post! i've updated it to be more organized and all that :} here’s the old one if you want to see it

anyway so. hello hi, i'm @iiinkos, and i run this blog :D i also run the rp blogs @a-thousand-little-things (my 3 avatar ocs) and @sonja-artefact-storage (previous head of artefact storage, still works there)

rules:

- flirting is allowed, but it isn’t likely to go anywhere.

- forming a romantic relationship with not allowed, i dunno how romance works. qpr maybe allowed? don’t quote me on that, i might change this. just want to try it out. this gerry is uranic tho, so no women or fem-aligned. also please dm me if you are planning on starting a qpr

- no sexual content, or suggestive, or anything like that.

- you’re allowed to interact with old posts, or start a new rp, or interact even if you aren’t an rp blog, or anything like that.

- magic anons allowed, except during big lore stuff, or if you’re trying to completely screw over the current timeline.

- please regard the different versions of gerry (explained below) before interacting.

info:

- current point in this au’s canon timeline: beginning of s1. nothing of note has happened yet other than everyone getting hired.

- the multiple versions of gerry

so: there's gonna be multiple versions of gerry that you'll be able to interact with anytime, regardless of what point in the timeline the blog is currently in. there’s timeline gerrys, and there’s default gerry.

default gerry falls under the tag archivist gerry. basic but i’m not about to replace all of his tags w/ default gerry because that’s a lotta posts. anyway, default gerry is timeline-less, dealing with the fears and doing his own thing gerry. just the same guy you guys have been interacting with pre-pause. able to take in spoilers, just going along with stuff. he's the one that, if there's no specifications about which gerry you're talking to, will be talking to you. thus, default gerry!

timeline gerrys are a part of the canon, ongoing overarching plot for this au. they’re part of the timeline, which is why they’re timeline gerrys :)

s1 gerry falls under the tag the unwanted continuation. called this because in this au, gerry was never meant to survive the cancer but was “saved” by elias so he could become the archivist. he also very much did not want this, so. it’s an unwanted continuation :D anyway, this gerry’s going to be a lot more sick of shit than default gerry. he will also have canon plotline stuff going on, so stick around for that!

for anyone who has interacted with gerry before the pause (5/14/2025): this one has not met any of you yet. do with that what you will :3

there will be other timeline gerrys in the future, for different seasons and whatnot. stay tuned for that :)

when interacting, please specify which gerry you are about to interact with.

one way you can do this by leaving a small note at the end of an ask. for example:

“hey how’s archiving going

(for *insert version of gerry here*)”

when using this method, you can either specify with the version (eg. default gerry, s1 gerry), the tag used for that gerry (eg. archivist gerry, the unwanted continuation), or, in some cases, a point in the timeline (eg. post *insert event that happened*)

another method is to mention something specific that happened to a gerry within the ask. for example:

“why did you glitterbomb elias on april fools??”

this one is specific to default gerry, since no other gerry has glitterbombed elias on april fools. both this method and the previous can be used simultaneously. i would prefer if you use the first method since it’s more specific, but using the second is fine. if you think of other methods, let me know! hope this makes sense :)

if your ask is not specified, it will automatically go to default gerry.

HOWEVER: the only exception for not is if there is an ongoing huge lore event, such as a season finale. i will specify that there is an ongoing lore event at the top of this post in large text. also, during the event, all asks or interactions specified for other gerrys will likely be ignored until after the event is completed.

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO GIVE ANY TIMELINE GERRY SPOILERS. this includes shit like "jonah is in elias' body", "the web is planning on spreading to other universes", "leitner in tunnels", "the apocalypse can't succeed", “____ got not!them'd" (unsure if that'll still be the case), etc. if anyone tries to tell him what's up, even if it is specified towards a specific gerry, it'll either be deleted or immediately go to default gerry. the only exceptions are if the asks are intended not to be taken seriously (eg. that one time when an anon was like "GERRY THAT'S NOT SASHA (gets dragged away screaming)"), or if that event has already been covered.

- masterposts

general big posts where major info is collected

masterpost: the unwanted continuation

masterpost: non canon plot points

masterpost: gerry info

other info:

- @cam-eye-intern (by @kaydenbreachedcontainment) is now part of this universe! specifically timeline cam :) go check them outtt

you are always allowed to ask me (the mod) if you have any questions! or just tell me shit lol :D you’re also allowed to go in dms to plan out plot point stuff and whatnot :)

have fun!

mod uses they/them

[o0o0thorn0o0o]

Late, I know, but…! Only by two days, so I’ll still label/tag it:

Ichihime Week, Day 7: Mythical Lovers / Rainbow

I was planning on adding in magpies in the background this time, but I was getting lazy, and it’s already late, so maybe next time ^^;

(Also I was thinking of making a rainbow version, but it didn't come out as I would have liked? Idk. I still think it’s cute, though, so I put it under the cut)

Alrighty, listen: I really didn’t mean to wait this long to post. But, like, very shortly after Eid, my iPad’s storage filled up, like, to the point I couldn’t even access my mail (that’s how I found out, pfft). I was wondering why I’d ever need 256 GB 4 years ago… but still, it was $100 extra bucks. Sure, it was a grad gift, but 128 GB was expensive enough—still a lot of storage, too… Not enough, clearly!

Hoarding layers (and recoloring my own art, pfft) has really caught up to me… but also, it wouldn’t help too much if I didn’t either. After deleting what I could bear to part with, that took away around 5 GB, but merging layers in other works barely made a dent.

So I’ve spent these past few weeks wondering what to do, thinking about emailing my 2019 (imported from my 5s) and 2020 works to an email I also created 4 years ago for some reason I totally forgot about and never used so that I don’t end up taking any space in my actual one and then uploading them onto two (since I really don’t want my files corrupting) USBs via my laptop, trying to get those USBs from Target (but since I was adamant this time in getting 256 GB USBs—I don’t want to have to worry about storage for a longgggg time—there were none in stock), ordering them off of eBay instead since my dad insisted on their cheapness, waiting a week for them, then transferring them to that email and uploading them onto its Google drive if the files was too big…

But that was taking much too long and still left space on my iPad while I was doing it. I managed to complete the 2019 and 2020 pieces from my iPad, but it also only ended up being around 1 GB… So, like, I need to clear more years (breaks my heart, it does ;~; Sure, I still have access to them via that email and those USBs, but it’s not convenient anymore, and there are still pieces I plan on getting back to… ackkkkk).

Contemplating it some more and discussing it with a friend, much as I abhor subscription services, I finally decided to purchase a premium membership on Ibis for that 20 GB of cloud storage. I can afford the 30 bucks a year, and I like the app anyway—serves me good—and not having to watch an ad every 18 hours to access my go-to brushes would be nice, plus having access to the other stuff, but yeah: ✋🌈✨cloud storage✨🌈 🤚

Anyway, I’m pretty sure a good chunk of what’s taking up my space is actually the cache, as I’m already more than halfway through my drawings, and I’m not sure if I’ll reach that 75 GB of storage Ibis was apparently taking up with just my drawings. So I’ll probably need to download everything, then delete the app and redownload it ‘cause stupid IOS doesn’t let you easily clear it 🫠

Anyway, I really thought I’d be done by now, but am not—that said, I managed to clear out around 10 GB off of Ibis (not my iPad; I somehow managed to gain back 5?? Somewhere?? I’ve no clue; I don’t see it), which is wayyy more than enough to get one drawing done for IH week, so I paused the whole storage thing for now. I actually tried to get day one’s drawing done on the 6th, but I’m dealing with perspective that’s hurting my brain, so I decided to get day seven’s done instead, ‘cause I thought I’d be on time…

Me? On time? Man, who knew I was so funny… 😒

But yeah, day seven is done! I’ll definitely revisit that day one drawing in the future, but not anytime soon. As if I wasn’t backed up already, this whole storage mess has backlogged even further, and there are other dates coming up 😮‍💨 And, y’know, gotta finish the storage transfer, too… Ahhhhhhhhhh!

Anyway, on a more positive note, gradient maps are actually very neat to use—had a little too much fun, eheh. I won’t confess how much time I spent testing it out on this piece, but here be my favorite:

They’re so golden <3 ☺️