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Imagine how chaotic DDLC would be if they just had Ame from needy streamer overload for the second act to replace sayori…
#needy streamer overload#nso#nso ame#doki doki literature club#ddlc#Y: Monika i don’t think this girl’s okay in the head..#M: What makes you say that?#A: **smoking mad weed in the corner**
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Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious
Summary: People would tell you that geniuses don't know everything, but you tell them that defeats the purpose of the word. Until one day you're proven wrong.
Word Count: 17.4k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: i came up with this idea a few days ago and had to write it down. basically reader is a genius and her mutation is controlling nature (her code name is 'flora' but it's not used often. and yes, it's a winx club reference, sue me)
i tried to make it as inclusive as i could, but i'm still learning since this is only my second reader fic.
i would like to turn this into a oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests!
warnings: few uses of y/n, logan uses a lot of pet names for reader, slight innocent!reader
You had only been at the X-Mansion for a year and yet all the students seemed to love you. At first, you thought that no teenager would want to come out to the large greenhouse you had set up, but you were proven wrong.
At the end of every day, right before dinner, dozens of kids would come out and help you water the plants and pull out the weeds.
It was certainly not what you expected to do after college, especially after only having your PhD’s for 2 years. It had all started when you met Hank McCoy at a science conference in New York City. You had graduated a mere few weeks ago and were out trying to network when you met him.
After that, Hank took you to meet Charles Xavier and he offered you a two-sided job, teach a few classes and be part of the X-Men, after you went through some training. You didn’t know how to fight at the beginning, but now you think you’ve got the hang of it.
You had just finished teaching your advanced physics class, standing at your desk gathering up the papers before going to your office to grade them, when someone knocked on the open classroom door.
Logan stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that usual smirk tugging at his lips. “You done for the day, sweetheart?”
You looked up from the pile of papers, surprised to see him there, though you probably shouldn’t have been. Logan had this way of showing up whenever you least expected it, always with some sort of pet name that left your students giggling.
When you first arrived at the school and started your training, it was Logan and Ororo who helped you learn how to fight. You certainly were not on a level like Logan, but you now knew how to hold your own without completely relying on your powers.
Logan was probably the one you were closest to at the mansion, save for Ororo and Jean. You enjoyed his company, even in the late nights when you would tend to the plants and he would stand quietly nearby smoking a cigar.
“Just about,” you replied, straightening the stack. “I was going to head to my office and grade these. Why? You need something?”
Logan pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots thudding lightly against the floor. “Can’t a guy just drop by and check in on ya?”
You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I guess, but somehow I doubt you’re just here to ‘check in.’” You shuffled the papers into a neat stack, slipping them into a folder. “So, what’s up?”
Logan shrugged, hands now in his jacket pockets as he stood a few feet away from your desk. “You’ve been buried in books and papers all week. Thought you could use a break.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be done grading these in like an hour. It doesn’t take me long. Unlike someone else.”
Logan snorted, a small smile forming as he tilted his head at you. "Yeah, well, not all of us have two fancy PhDs and can finish things in a blink, darlin’."
You laughed softly, putting the papers into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “You’re just mad because I keep proving I’m right.” You rounded your desk, smirking. “Plus, I’m having a movie night with Jean and Ororo. See? I can take breaks.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he leaned in just a little, casting you that knowing look he always had when he was teasing you. “Movie night, huh? Lemme guess—something boring and science-y?”
You scoffed, shaking your head as you zipped up your bag. “Not every movie night is a science documentary, Logan.”
“Mmhmm,” he replied, the teasing drawl in his voice making it clear he didn’t believe you for a second. “So, what are you watchin’, then? Some quantum physics thriller?”
You rolled your eyes, grinning. “It’s The Princess Diaries this time, actually. But I do like documentaries, so don’t knock them.”
Logan chuckled, the sound low and deep, and for a moment it made you forget the pile of grading still waiting for you. “I’ll let it slide this time, darlin’. But if I hear you talkin’ about how accurate the physics are in some movie during your ‘break,’ I’m dragging you out of that mansion myself.”
You gave him a mock-serious look. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I would,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “And we both know I could.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. Logan had a way of just picking you up—literally—and dragging you away when he thought you’d been working too hard. Sometimes you suspected he enjoyed it a little too much.
Before you could retort, Logan's expression softened slightly. “Look, Y/N, I’m serious. You’ve been bustin’ your ass all week. Go take a real break tonight, will ya?”
There it was again. That rare softness he showed only to you, like the tough exterior melted away for just a second. You never really knew how to respond when he got like that, so you shrugged casually and smiled. “I’ll take it easy tonight. Promise.”
“Good,” he said, his voice gruff but warm. “’Cause I don’t wanna hear about you passin’ out from exhaustion or whatever it is geniuses do when they work themselves to death.”
You walked to the door and turned back to face him, “Einstein slept 10 hours during the night and took regular naps.” You gave him a wink and walked down the hall towards your office, a satisfied smirk on your face.
Logan watched you disappear down the hallway, shaking his head with a faint smile. He wasn't sure when it started, but something about your energy, the way you threw yourself into everything—whether it was the students, your research, or even the X-Men's missions—had caught his attention. And now, it was hard to get you out of his head, let alone his senses.
He could always tell when you were nearby or recently in an area—your perfume was inherently you, mango with an undercurrent of something woodsy. And you always looked cute, a word Logan thought he’d never use. You constantly wore colors, usually pastels in varying shades, whether it be a shirt, your shoes, or even accessories in your hair. It was almost ridiculous how someone with two PhDs and the kind of brain that could out-think just about everyone around her could be so oblivious to certain things.
And that was why he found you so fascinating.
You were brilliant, no doubt about it—always talking about equations, theories, and whatever else you’d been reading about. But somehow, you never seemed to notice when he was flirting with you, which had become Logan's new favorite game. He knew exactly what he was doing when he called you varying nicknames.
It wasn’t like it was a secret either; pretty much everyone at the mansion had picked up on it. Hell, even the students were in on it, giggling whenever Logan tossed a pet name your way or gave you one of those half-smirks that drove everyone else insane.
Everyone except you, apparently.
You walked down the hall, completely unaware of the looks you were getting, or the fact that Logan’s eyes lingered a bit longer than they should have as you disappeared around the corner. Shaking his head, he let out a low chuckle before heading toward the garage. Maybe a ride on his bike would clear his head, though it probably wouldn’t. You had a way of sticking in his mind, even when you weren’t around.
---
Later that night, you were sprawled on the couch in one of the common rooms, sandwiched between Jean and Ororo as the three of you laughed at the antics on screen. The Princess Diaries was playing, and though you’d seen it a dozen times, it never failed to make you laugh.
You had your hair tied up and off your neck, and you were dressed in one of your usual casual outfits—leggings and an oversized hoodie that probably belonged to one of the guys in the mansion, though you couldn’t remember who. Logan’s scent faintly lingered on it, but you didn't think much of it.
You shifted comfortably, pulling your legs up to curl under you as Jean and Ororo sat on either side, each of you clutching bowls of popcorn and laughing at the antics in The Princess Diaries.
“I still don’t get how a movie about a teenager becoming a princess is this funny,” Jean said, shaking her head as she stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Like, shouldn’t it be cheesy?”
“It is cheesy,” you countered, laughing as Mia slipped and fell in the movie. “But it’s good cheesy. There’s a difference.”
Ororo chuckled, glancing at you with an amused smile. “You’ve seen this how many times now?”
“Don’t judge me,” you teased, tossing a piece of popcorn in her direction, which she easily swatted away with a smirk. “This is a classic.”
Jean raised an eyebrow, giving you a playful nudge. “More classic than, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey? That seems more your speed.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Not every movie I watch has to be some cerebral masterpiece, Jean.”
Ororo smiled knowingly. “Mmm, true, but you’re always spouting off facts about space or physics during random moments in these movies.”
“That’s because science is everywhere!” you replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t not notice when something’s wrong.”
Jean grinned. “Like that time you paused Star Wars just to give us a lecture on how light speed doesn’t work like that?”
You huffed a laugh. “Well, it doesn’t. It’s all—”
“Science, we know,” Ororo finished, sharing a look with Jean that made you roll your eyes again.
“Okay, okay,” you conceded, holding up your hands. “I’ll try not to nerd out tonight.”
“That’s all we ask,” Jean said, smirking as she leaned back on the couch, throwing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth.
For the next hour or so, the three of you watched the movie without incident, though you had to bite your tongue more than once. A promise was a promise, after all.
When the movie ended, Ororo stretched and got up from the couch. “Alright, I’m heading to bed. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”
“Same,” Jean said, standing and offering you a soft smile.
“Guess I’ll get ready for bed too, then.” You replied. Each of you headed to your rooms, Jean shared one with Scott down the hall from you, and Ororo’s room was close by theirs.
Your room was full of plants, small vines on the walls and windowsills, along with potted flowers across the room. It had been habit ever since you learned about your powers to always be surrounded by them, it gave you a sense of peace.
Taking off your clothes you got into the shower, where more plants were, including a rhaphidophora tetrasperma and a maidenhair fern.
You smiled to yourself, relishing the small oasis you’d created in your bathroom. The plants thrived in here, the humidity of your showers mimicking their natural habitat. It was a simple pleasure to see something flourish under your care, which was probably why you always surrounded yourself with greenery.
You rinsed off, the water now lukewarm as it cascaded over you, and turned the shower off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your skin as you moved toward the mirror. You wiped a hand across the fogged glass, revealing your reflection. You took off your shower cap, letting your hair free from its constraints.
There was a faint knock at your door, and you glanced toward it, frowning. Who would be knocking at this hour?
“Y/N?” Logan’s voice came from the other side. “You still awake?”
Your eyes widened slightly. What was Logan doing here? You quickly pulled on some comfortable clothes—an oversized t-shirt and shorts—before cracking the door open to find Logan leaning against the frame, his usual smirk in place.
“Logan? It’s kind of late. What’s up?” you asked, holding the door open just enough for him to see you but not enough to fully invite him in.
He shrugged, his eyes briefly scanning you before locking on yours. “Came by to see if you wanted to take a walk. Figured you might still be awake.”
You blinked, taken aback. “A walk? Now?”
“Yeah,” he replied casually, as if asking you to go for a walk at nearly midnight was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re always sayin’ how you like the way the plants look at night. Thought maybe you’d want some fresh air.”
You hesitated for a moment, considering his offer. You had planned on heading to bed soon, but you couldn’t deny the appeal of a nighttime walk—especially with Logan. The mansion grounds were peaceful at this hour, and the idea of walking among the moonlit flowers sounded tempting.
“Alright,” you said, pushing the door open the rest of the way. “Let me put on some shoes.”
Logan nodded, leaning back against the doorframe as he waited, his arms crossing over his chest. You slipped on a pair of sneakers, quickly tying the laces.
“Ready,” you said, adjusting your shirt and stepping out into the hallway.
Logan pushed off the frame and started walking beside you, his steps easy and casual. The mansion was quiet, most of the students already asleep, and you could hear the soft hum of night settling in as you both made your way outside. The cool air greeted you as you stepped into the garden, and you couldn’t help but smile as the scent of flowers and earth filled your senses.
“So,” Logan said after a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets, “how was the movie?”
You smiled, glancing at him. “It was good. A classic, really.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Jean and Ororo didn’t give you a hard time?”
You chuckled. “Well, they did try to poke fun at my love for science, but nothing too bad. It was all in good fun.”
Logan smirked. “Yeah, they like to tease. Just means they’re comfortable around ya.”
You gave a small nod, your gaze shifting to the moonlit flowers around you. You loved the way the plants seemed to glow in the night, the way everything felt so peaceful at this hour. It was one of the reasons you often came out here at night when the mansion was quiet and still.
The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you. Logan didn’t say much, but that was one of the things you liked about him—he didn’t need to fill the air with pointless conversation. He was just… there, steady and solid, like the trees you so loved to be around.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and the ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. You wondered briefly what he thought of these walks. He always seemed to show up at the right moments, offering his company when you needed it most, even if you didn’t realize you needed it at the time.
“So, Logan,” you started, your voice casual as you glanced at a cluster of moonlit lilies, “what’s the real reason you wanted to walk tonight? I know you didn’t just suddenly decide to take in the scenery.”
He chuckled, low and deep, as he shifted his gaze to the path ahead. “Maybe I like the scenery more than I let on.”
“Right,” you teased, arching an eyebrow. “Because I’ve definitely seen you out here admiring the roses before.”
“Who says I’m talkin’ about the roses, sweetheart?”
You rolled your eyes, though a faint smile played at your lips. “Uh-huh. Keep dreaming, Logan.”
There was that playful glint in his eyes again, the one you’d grown used to but never quite understood. He always had this way of teasing you—soft, subtle comments that seemed to amuse him more than anything else. It wasn’t like you minded, though. You liked the banter, even if you never quite knew why he seemed to engage in it with you so much.
You gave him a sidelong glance, but Logan’s expression remained as it usually did—a little cocky, a little mysterious, his hands resting casually in his jacket pockets as he walked alongside you. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path, and you found your gaze drifting back to the flowers blooming in the gardens. The peace of the night wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and for a moment, you almost forgot Logan was there.
“Y’know,” Logan said after a stretch of silence, his voice low and lazy, “you really are a mystery, sweetheart.”
You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. “What do you mean by that?”
Logan shrugged, his eyes briefly flicking to yours before looking ahead again. “You’re this genius, right? Got two PhDs, can out-think just about anyone in the room. But sometimes… you’re completely clueless.”
You scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. “Clueless? Me? I don’t think that’s possible.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that teasing smile. “Yeah, darlin’. Clueless. You know a hell of a lot about a lot of things, but when it comes to readin’ people? Not so much.”
Your frown deepened. “I think I read people just fine, Logan.”
He stopped walking then, turning to face you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Oh, do ya?”
“Yeah,” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I spend a lot of time around people. I know how to pick up on things.”
Logan’s smile widened, like he was holding back laughter. “Is that so?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “Yes, that’s so. What are you getting at?”
Logan’s grin widened as he saw you narrow your eyes, your arms crossed in clear frustration. There was something about how easily he could rile you up, how your normally sharp mind would stumble whenever he teased you, that made him enjoy these moments even more.
“You’re dodging the question,” you pressed, sensing that his silence was deliberate. “What are you getting at?”
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the nearest tree, his usual smirk in place. “I’m just sayin’, for someone who’s supposed to be a genius, you don’t always see what’s right in front of you.”
You let out a huff, clearly not satisfied with his answer. “I see everything just fine, Logan. You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”
“Subtle, huh?” Logan echoed, his grin softening into a more thoughtful expression. “Maybe I’m not. Or maybe you’re just a little too focused on the wrong things.”
You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but as usual, Logan didn’t offer anything more. He simply stood there, his eyes watching you carefully, as if enjoying the little mystery he’d planted in your mind. You could practically see the amusement dancing behind his gaze.
“This is just another one of your games, isn’t it?” you muttered, though there was no real bite in your tone. “You like keeping me guessing.”
“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “Keeps things interestin’, don’t ya think?”
You rolled your eyes again, turning away from him as you started walking down the path. You weren’t going to let him keep you on edge like this. You had better things to think about than whatever half-assed answer Logan was playing at tonight.
Logan fell into step beside you, his hands tucked back into his pockets. The two of you walked in silence for a bit longer, and despite the earlier tension, you found yourself relaxing once more. The garden was quiet, the night cool and calm. Logan’s presence, as always, was steady beside you, even if he did like to mess with your head sometimes.
“You know,” you began after a while, your voice softer now, “just because I’m a genius doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to people. I do pick up on things.”
Logan shot you a sideways glance, that infuriating smirk back on his face. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”
“I’m serious!” you insisted, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “I just… maybe I’m not as concerned with people’s motives as much as I am with facts and data. It’s different.”
Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s part of the problem, doll. You think you can figure out everything like it’s a puzzle. But people? We’re a little more complicated than that.”
You tilted your head, thinking about that. “I don’t see why it has to be complicated. People say what they mean, don’t they?”
Logan paused for a moment, his smirk turning into something more thoughtful. “Not always.”
There was a heaviness in his voice that made you glance up at him, but before you could ask what he meant, he turned his head away, eyes focused on something in the distance. The moment passed, and Logan was back to his usual self, his grin in place as if nothing had happened.
“Anyway,” he said, changing the subject, “how’s your latest project goin’? Still messing with those gadgets?”
You sighed, the shift in conversation allowing you to relax again. “Yeah, still working on a few prototypes. Hank’s been helping me out with some of the materials, but we’re having trouble stabilizing the energy output.”
Logan nodded, listening with genuine interest. “Sounds like somethin’ you’ll figure out soon enough.”
“I hope so,” you said with a small smile. “But it’s been a little frustrating.”
“Not used to runnin’ into roadblocks, huh?” Logan teased.
“Not really,” you admitted, a touch of sheepishness in your tone. “I’m used to things coming together quickly once I have all the information. This one’s been… tricky.”
Logan gave a low hum of understanding. “That’s the thing about science, sweetheart. It ain’t always predictable.”
“Yeah, but I like predictability,” you said with a shrug. “It makes sense. People, on the other hand…”
Logan laughed at that, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”
The two of you continued your walk, the conversation drifting to lighter topics—projects, students at the mansion, the occasional prank pulled by one of the younger mutants. You liked how easy it was to talk to Logan, even when he teased you or left you hanging on a thought. He was always there, listening, offering his dry commentary when it was needed.
As you walked, you found yourself glancing at him every now and then, taking in the way the moonlight caught his features, the rough stubble on his jaw, the confident way he carried himself. You didn’t understand why he spent so much time around you, especially when he had no trouble being alone or doing his own thing. Logan didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way for someone, and yet… here he was.
“Logan?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Yeah?” he replied, his gaze shifting to you.
“Why do you do this?”
He frowned, genuinely confused. “Do what?”
“Walk with me. Spend time with me. You’re not exactly the most sociable guy around here.”
Logan gave a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Maybe I like your company, sweetheart. Ever think of that?”
You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be so direct about… feelings. You weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply looked away, feeling a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.
“I guess I never really thought about it,” you admitted after a moment.
Logan’s smirk returned, but there was something softer behind it this time. “That’s ‘cause you’re too busy thinkin’ about everythin’ else, doll.”
You didn’t respond right away, still processing his words. Logan wasn’t one to lay things out so plainly, but when he did, it always seemed to catch you off guard. He had this way of making you question things—yourself, your understanding of the world—without ever really giving you any answers. It was frustrating, but at the same time, it was… endearing.
As the two of you walked back toward the mansion, the quiet settling over you once more, you couldn’t help but wonder what Logan had meant earlier. About you being ‘clueless.’ It wasn’t like you didn’t notice things—sure, people had their layers, but you weren’t blind to them. So what was he talking about?
---
The next morning, you were back in your usual routine—teaching classes, working in the greenhouse, and helping the students with their studies. It was a busy day, but you didn’t mind. The students were eager to learn, and you found a sense of satisfaction in watching them grow and develop their skills.
After your last class, you made your way to the greenhouse, your favorite part of the day. The students had already watered the plants earlier, so you spent some time pruning and checking on the growth of the flowers and vegetables.
The sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, and you turned to see Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, glancing up from the plant you were tending to.
Logan shrugged. “Figured I’d stop by. See how you’re doin’.”
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “You checking up on me again?”
He chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on ya, sweetheart.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your plants. “I’m fine, Logan. Really.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice closer now. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing just a few feet away, watching you with that same unreadable expression he always seemed to have around you. “But it doesn’t hurt to check in every now and then.”
Logan looked over at a large strawberry plant in the corner, it seemed to have a lot of yield, bright red strawberries hanging from the branches.
“You ever try a strawberry with no pesticides?” You asked, standing up from the ground and taking off your gloves. You looked around the plant before pulling what you thought looked to be the best of the bunch, holding it out for him. Since it was August, the strawberries were soon going to go out of season, so this was the last good batch you were going to get.
Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he eyed the fruit in your hand. "I’ve had my share of wild strawberries, sweetheart, but never from your garden.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him with the strawberry still outstretched. “Wild strawberries? Really, Logan? This is organic, homegrown perfection. Totally different experience.”
He chuckled, finally taking the strawberry from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. It was so brief you didn’t think much of it, but Logan’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.
“Well?” you asked, watching him expectantly. “What do you think?”
Logan chewed slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. “Sweet,” he finally said, his voice low. “Real sweet.”
You smiled, pleased with his answer, though you didn’t quite catch the way his gaze lingered on you as he said it. “Told you,” you said, turning back to the plant to grab a strawberry for yourself. “Fresh strawberries are unbeatable.”
He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you take a bite. “You take real pride in this, don’t ya?”
“Of course,” you said, glancing at him between bites. “There’s something rewarding about growing things. Watching them thrive under the right conditions. It’s like… I don’t know, creating life.”
Logan’s eyes softened as he listened to you talk, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “You care a lot about the little det- ” He was cut off by surprise, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips wiping off some of the strawberry juice.
You seemed to not think much about it, nor did you notice Logan’s heart sped up with your simple touch. It was over quick, you let out a soft gasp and walked behind him, looking up at a vine at the top where you saw a few ripe kiwis.
You reached your palm out, focusing your energy on the vines at the top of the greenhouse. They shifted gently, as if responding to your silent command, dropping three ripe kiwis into your hand. You grinned, knowing Jean would appreciate the fresh fruit later. It wasn’t easy growing kiwis in New York, but your powers made up for the climate’s shortcomings. Nature seemed to bend to your will, a fact you took quiet pride in, even though you’d never flaunt it.
Meanwhile, Logan was still in slight shock from your gesture, he could almost feel the spot where your thumb brushed against him, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And you did it without thinking, in fact, you still didn’t seem to notice him looking at your back as you picked a few bunches of basil.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t just the way you talked about plants or how your hands moved with skill and grace—it was you, completely unaware of how you affected him. Completely unaware that his heart rate had spiked at the smallest, most innocent touch.
“Something wrong?” you asked, not even turning around as you picked at the herbs.
Logan blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “Nah, just... thinkin’. You’re somethin’, you know that?”
You gave a short laugh, pausing to glance back at him over your shoulder. “If that’s your way of saying I’m a genius again, I already know.”
He chuckled, moving to stand a bit closer. “That’s not exactly what I meant, sweetheart.” His voice was low, with that familiar gravelly tone he used when teasing you.
But as usual, the hint flew right past you. “Well, whatever it is, I’ll take it as a compliment.” You plucked another handful of basil leaves, slipping them into a small basket on the bench. “And you should try to be more specific next time, Logan. It helps with communication.”
“Specific, huh?” Logan leaned a little against the workbench beside you, arms crossed. “Alright then, you’re smart, sure. But there’s more to it than that. You... you just do things without even thinking about it. Like earlier.” His eyes flickered briefly to your hand.
You frowned a little, confused. “Earlier? You mean the strawberry thing? Or when I wiped the juice off your face?”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “That.”
You blinked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal of it. “Logan, it was just strawberry juice. You looked like you were about to walk into a meeting with half a fruit smeared on your face.”
Logan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, doll. I get that.” He watched as you turned back to your plants, completely oblivious to the fact that what had been a small, thoughtless gesture for you had stirred something deeper for him. He found it both amusing and frustrating—not in an annoying way, but in a way that made him want to get closer to you, to push the boundaries just a little more.
“So,” you said, shifting the subject as you snipped a bit more basil. “What’s got you wandering into the greenhouse today? It’s not exactly your usual haunt.”
Logan leaned back, watching you with those intense eyes of his. “Just felt like stoppin’ by. Spend some time with you. Ain’t that a good enough reason?”
You rolled your eyes, though your smile was genuine. “I suppose. It’s just... you don’t usually care about plants and stuff.”
“Well, maybe I’m changin’,” Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You shook your head, laughing softly. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” You paused, glancing at him as you picked up a watering can. “So... you wanna help?”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “Me? Helpin’ with your garden?”
“Why not?” you asked, stepping closer to him. “You’ve got hands, don’t you? It’s not all that complicated.”
He chuckled, reaching out to take the watering can from you, brushing his fingers against yours for a second time. “Alright, sweetheart, show me how it’s done.”
You handed him the can and pointed to a row of lavender plants nearby. “Just give them a little water. Not too much though—they don’t like it when their roots get too wet.”
Logan followed your instructions with a kind of amused curiosity, watching as the water trickled from the can onto the plants. It wasn’t the kind of thing he normally found himself doing, but there was something about the simplicity of it, something about you, that made it... well, not so bad.
“You really know your stuff, don’t ya?” Logan remarked after a few moments, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.
“Well, yeah,” you said, turning to grab some tools from a nearby shelf. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Plus, it’s kind of in my wheelhouse, you know? With the whole ‘controlling nature’ thing.”
Logan smirked, setting the watering can down as he leaned against the bench again. “Yeah, I’ve seen you do some pretty wild things with those powers of yours. But you don’t talk about ��em much.”
“I talk to them.” You said, hiding a grin from growing on your face.
“Really?” he asked, surprised.
You laughed as you stood up, throwing a few weeds in a separate basket. “No. I was joking!”
Logan let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head at you. “You got me there, sweetheart,” he said, still leaning against the bench, watching you with that ever-present smirk on his face.
You grabbed a nearby hose, turning the water on low to rinse your hands. "Can't believe you thought I was serious. I mean, I get along with plants, but I don’t have full-on conversations with them. That’d be weird."
"Wouldn't surprise me with you, doll," Logan replied, still watching you intently. "You seem to know what everything around here needs, even without talkin' to 'em."
You shrugged, drying your hands on a towel. "It’s just intuition, I guess. Plants give off signals if you know how to read them."
Logan gave you a long look, his smirk softening into something almost affectionate, though you didn’t notice. "You sure it's just the plants you read that well?"
You looked up at him, confused for a second, but quickly shook your head, dismissing his comment. "Are you gonna keep talking, or are you actually going to help me?”
Logan pushed himself off the bench, standing up straight. "Alright, alright. Where do you want me, doll?"
You handed him the basket full of weeds, “throw them out.”
He raised an eyebrow, “that’s it?”
You handed Logan the basket of weeds, his hand brushing against yours for the third time today. He smirked slightly, but you, as usual, were completely unaware of the subtle tension.
“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response to his earlier question, balancing two baskets filled with freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and herbs in your arms. “I’m gonna lock up and bring these inside.”
Logan didn’t move for a second, watching as you turned your back and headed toward the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the greenhouse. For someone so sharp, so brilliant, you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he enjoyed these little moments with you.
That small, unspoken connection you two had—the one where you never quite seemed to notice that he was flirting with you—had started to become his favorite part of the day. Even if it had been going on for 8 months, and yes, he was counting.
As you reached for the lock on the greenhouse door, you glanced over your shoulder. “You’re still standing there, Logan. Are you gonna help or just watch me carry all this stuff by myself?”
Logan’s smirk widened. “Oh, I was just enjoyin' the view, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes, missing the deeper meaning in his words, as usual. “Right. Well, the view can help me with these baskets if it’s not too busy.”
Logan chuckled softly, walking over to you and easily taking one of the baskets from your hands. “You got it, doll. I’ll lend a hand.”
Together, you made your way toward the mansion, the quiet of the late afternoon settling around you. It was peaceful, in that way you liked—just the sound of your footsteps on the gravel path, the faint rustle of leaves in the distance, and the low hum of the cicadas in the trees. Logan had quickly thrown away the weeds and rejoined you, taking the other basket out of your hand, saying something about how he was ‘being a gentleman.’
You both entered the mansion from the back door, making your way to the kitchen where Logan placed the baskets on the island. Jean and Scott were already in there, Jean making her way over to the two baskets.
You, having an inkling for what she was looking for, reached into one of the baskets and pulled out the 3 kiwis. You handed the kiwis over to Jean, a smile playing on your lips as she quickly clutched them to her chest, almost like they were gold. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, and it always amused you. Scott, of course, tried to intervene, reaching out to snatch one, but Jean shot him a look that was part-serious, part-playful.
“Hey, those are for me,” she said, moving slightly to block Scott’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for these kiwis all week.”
Scott smirked but backed off, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, babe.”
Jean gave him a victorious smile, then turned to you. “Thanks, Y/N. You always come through with the best fruit.”
“Of course,” you replied, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. “You’ve been asking for kiwis since the season started, so I figured it was about time I delivered.”
Logan, still standing nearby, watched the interaction with a subtle smirk on his face. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking completely relaxed but attentive.
“You sure know how to make people happy, doll,” Logan said, his voice low but teasing. “Always goin’ above and beyond for everyone.”
You shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. “It’s just a few kiwis, Logan. Nothing special.”
Jean, now satisfied with her prized fruit, glanced between the two of you with a curious look, sensing something in Logan’s tone. She had noticed the way he’d been hanging around you more than usual lately, and it wasn’t hard to pick up on the little glances he threw your way when you weren’t looking. Of course, you remained blissfully unaware of it all, as always.
“You’re selling yourself short,” Jean said, throwing you a grin. “It’s not just the kiwis. You’ve practically turned the greenhouse into a mini-Eden. We all appreciate it, even if Scott can’t admit he’s jealous of my fruit.”
Scott rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the garden, Y/N.”
You smiled at the compliment, though it didn’t feel like anything out of the ordinary to you. Taking care of the plants, helping out with the students, it was all part of your routine. You liked it that way—predictable, manageable. You didn’t dwell on the subtleties of interpersonal dynamics the way others seemed to.
Logan’s smirk widened slightly at Jean’s comment, but he kept quiet, watching you interact with the others. There was something about the way you brushed off compliments so easily, like you didn’t quite grasp how much people appreciated you around here.
You had already put a few strawberries in a glass bowl, making your way out of the kitchen to Ororo’s office without saying a word, something they were already used to.
“You sure you’re not going to say anything? You know, that’s actually straight to the point?” Jean asked Logan.
Scott reached into one of the baskets, pulling out a few blueberries, “at this point, you’re like a love-sick puppy following her around.”
Logan let out a low growl, plucking a strawberry out from the basket. “Keep talking dickhead.” He threatened.
Jean raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, her sharp eyes flicking between Logan and Scott. "He’s not wrong though, Logan. You’ve been spending more time with Y/N than usual. We’ve all noticed."
Logan grunted, pushing himself off the counter and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "She’s a good kid. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on her."
Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Right, keepin' an eye on her. That's what we’re calling it now?"
Jean shot Scott a playful glare, but her attention quickly shifted back to Logan. “You know, you could just tell her how you feel. She’s oblivious, but she’s not stupid. Sooner or later, she’s going to notice.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and he glanced toward the door where you had just left. His emotions were complicated—he’d never been one for opening up, and the idea of confessing anything, especially something as vulnerable as his feelings for you, wasn’t exactly in his comfort zone. He had been through too much, lost too many people, and the thought of letting himself get close to someone again... well, it scared him more than he cared to admit.
“She’s got her own life,” Logan muttered, his voice gruff but softer now. “I ain’t lookin’ to mess that up.”
Jean sighed, walking over to stand next to Logan, her tone gentle but firm. “Logan, you’re not messing anything up. In fact, I think you’d be adding something important to her life. She’s not the type to see you as a burden or a distraction. She probably wouldn’t even realize you were flirting with her until you hit her over the head with it.”
Logan huffed a half-hearted laugh, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “Maybe that’s the problem. She’s too damn focused on other stuff to even see it.”
Jean smiled softly, placing a hand on Logan’s arm. “That’s what makes her so special, Logan. She’s genuine, selfless, and probably the least manipulative person in this mansion. She doesn’t play games—what you see is what you get. And she likes you, even if she doesn’t realize it in the same way you do yet.”
Scott, still lounging in his chair, added, “Plus, you know, if you wait too long, someone else might catch her eye. Just sayin’.”
Logan shot Scott a glare that could have melted steel. “Ain’t nobody else gonna catch her eye, Summers. Trust me on that.”
Jean chuckled softly, giving Logan’s arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “Well, when you’re ready, just remember—it’s okay to take a chance on her. You might be surprised by how things turn out.”
Logan didn’t respond right away, his mind already spinning with conflicting thoughts. He appreciated Jean’s support, but the fear of rejection, of losing someone else important to him, gnawed at his insides. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it again. And what if telling you how he felt ruined the easy, comfortable dynamic you two had? What if he lost the one person in the mansion who treated him like a normal man instead of a gruff, dangerous mutant?
Jean and Scott exchanged a knowing glance, but they let Logan mull over his thoughts in silence. They could push him only so far before it was up to him to take the next step.
---
You were walking down the halls with your bag in over your shoulder, all you needed to do was get to your office and take these heels off.
They looked cute online, not too tall or high, had some cushion on the soles, but wearing them was a completely different story. Which was sad because they were a cute baby pink which went well with your button up baby pink cardigan and white jeans.
But your office seemed so far away with the stabbing pain in your feet, luckily the halls were empty since most of the students were in their rooms doing homework or relaxing before dinner.
Having enough of the pain, you crouched down to unbuckle your heels, your bag moving down your shoulder to your elbow.
“Need any help, princess?”
You looked up at the sound of the voice, even though you knew exactly who it was.
Logan stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flicked down to your shoes before meeting your gaze again, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Need any help, princess?” His voice was low and casual, but that nickname—'princess’—it was just one of the many he’d taken to using when he spoke to you. Although you hadn’t heard this one before.
You shifted your bag back up on your shoulder and continued unbuckling the second heel. “I’ve got it, thanks,” you replied, not thinking too much of his presence. You’d known Logan long enough to realize he had a habit of showing up when you least expected him to.
He made a small grunt, as if to say ‘suit yourself,’ and watched as you continued to try and unbuckle the second one, but it looked like the strap was giving you a hard time.
Logan kneeled down in front of you without a word as you moved your hands away. You were smart enough to know that you weren’t exactly in the best position to unbuckle your heels, you usually did it when you were sitting down, not crouching in the middle of a hallway.
He easily unbuckled it and helped you slip out of the heels, your feet hitting the cool floor. You mumbled a thanks as his hand trailed up your calf with a feather light touch before standing up. Your heels were in one of his hands as he easily picked you up with one arm, carrying you bridal style.
You let out a small shriek of surprise, your arms instinctively going around Logan’s neck as he scooped you up with one arm, heels dangling from his other hand.
"Hey! I can walk!" you protested, more flustered than anything else. You were completely capable of walking, sore feet or not, but now you were cradled in Logan’s arms like a princess in some old fairy tale.
Logan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Not fast enough, sweetheart," he teased, carrying you effortlessly down the hall. His voice was deep, a hint of amusement in his tone, and it made your cheeks heat up slightly, though you quickly tried to brush it off.
You rolled your eyes, not really sure how to argue back. "I’m pretty sure this is unnecessary," you muttered, though your voice didn’t sound all that convincing even to you.
"Necessary or not, you're gonna let me carry you," he shot back, glancing down at you with a playful gleam in his eye. "Besides, I don’t mind."
You huffed in mock defiance, but you didn’t exactly push him to put you down either. In fact, being carried by Logan felt…nice. Comfortable, even. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud. And it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done this.
As the two of you continued down the hallway, you couldn’t help but notice the way his grip was firm but gentle, his arms strong and steady. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen how built he was, but somehow, it always seemed to surprise you.
"You know, this could’ve been avoided if I’d just worn normal shoes," you grumbled, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart was beating a little too fast.
Logan chuckled softly, that gravelly sound that always seemed to resonate in your chest. "Doll, I’ve seen you rock combat boots and still look like you’re ready for a photoshoot. But those heels…" He raised an eyebrow at the pink shoes still in his hand. "Yeah, maybe not your best choice."
You frowned slightly, glancing at the heels. "They looked good online…"
He grinned, amused. "You got catfished by shoes?"
"I didn’t get catfished!" you retorted, though you couldn’t help but laugh. "They’re cute! Just not comfortable."
Logan made a noncommittal sound, clearly not convinced by your argument. But he didn’t press it further, instead shifting you slightly in his arms as he approached your office door.
"Want me to break down the door for you, too, princess? Or can you manage the key?" he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes, looking down at you like you were some helpless damsel.
"I’ve got it," you replied quickly, reaching into your bag for your keys. "And stop calling me princess." The nickname felt weird, it made your heart beat faster and you skin flush more than the other nicknames he called you.
But Logan just smirked, clearly unbothered. "Sure thing, sweetheart."
You couldn’t stop the little sigh that escaped you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. Logan stepped inside, gently setting you down on your feet.
As soon as you were standing, you felt the cool air against your now bare feet, and it was an instant relief from the torture those heels had put you through. You moved to put your heels down by your desk, but Logan still had them in his hand.
"You know I can take those now," you said, holding out your hand expectantly.
Logan eyed the heels for a moment, then handed them over. "You really should burn 'em, doll," he said in that same teasing tone, watching you place them on the floor.
"I’m not burning them," you replied, shaking your head. "They’re not that bad. I just…need to break them in."
Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe now, watching you with that amused smirk still playing on his lips. "Or you could just stick to boots."
"Maybe I like being fashionable sometimes," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at him as you plopped down into your office chair. Your fingers brushed your hair back from your face, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh now that you were sitting down.
"Fashionable, sure," Logan said, his voice a low rumble. "But at what cost?"
You shot him a look but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It was hard to stay annoyed when Logan was like this—playful, relaxed, his rough edges softened just enough to make you feel like he actually cared.
"Anyway, shouldn’t you be out doing something more...Logan-like?" you asked, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest.
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"I don't know, brooding? Scowling at someone?"
His lips twitched, clearly suppressing a smirk. "Maybe I’m just waiting for you to ask me to carry you again."
You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. "Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath."
He chuckled, that deep, gravelly sound filling the small office. He didn’t say anything after that, just leaned against the door, arms crossed as he watched you settle in. The silence was comfortable, but it made you hyperaware of him—of the way his presence seemed to take up more space than it should.
You busied yourself with pulling out some notes from your bag, pretending you weren’t fully aware of how Logan’s eyes followed your every movement. It was strange, but also kind of…nice? Logan wasn’t like other guys. He wasn’t intimidated by your intelligence or the fact that you could talk circles around most people in the room. In fact, he seemed to like it, even if he teased you about it sometimes.
"Alright, well, thanks for the…uh, assistance," you said, breaking the silence and giving him a small, awkward smile. "I think I’m good now."
Logan didn’t move right away. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Anytime, sweetheart."
And with that, he turned and walked out of your office, leaving you with your thoughts—and the faintest trace of a smirk on your face.
---
Every so often, you would have a baking day to use up some of the fruits efficiently. Some of the students would join you in the large kitchen, doing their best to help you by carefully following your instructions.
Some of them, particularly the older ones, would cut up some of the fruit, like strawberries, apples, and peaches. The others would measure the ingredients and put them in a mixing bowl before combining it all together to make a dough.
This time, you were striving to make a few blueberry pies, a large dish of peach cobbler, apple strudels, and some strawberry puff pastries.
Baking was something you enjoyed, but never really did in college. You usually were busier with labs and theses rather than cooking or baking. You practically lived off take out and dining hall food. But since you’ve been here for the past year, you’ve already held 4 sessions, including this one.
“Careful with those strawberries,” you said to a student named Ben, who was chopping up the fruit with a little too much enthusiasm. “We need them in slices, not chunks.”
“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled, quickly adjusting his technique.
You smiled softly and moved to check on the other group, who were working on the dough for the pies. A girl named Emily was measuring out the flour, carefully following the recipe you’d written down.
"How’s it going over here?" you asked, watching as she sifted the flour into a bowl.
“Good, I think,” Emily said, glancing up at you nervously. “Is this enough?”
You nodded. "Looks perfect. Just remember to mix it slowly so the flour doesn’t go everywhere."
Emily gave you a grateful smile before continuing her work. You loved these baking sessions. It was a great way to bond with the students and also let them explore a more creative side outside of their classes. Plus, it gave you a break from the constant intellectual challenges of your usual work.
Logan wandered into the kitchen a little while later, casually leaning against the doorframe as he watched the controlled chaos. Ororo and Jean were already in the kitchen, watching from the sidelines nursing a glass of a bubbly pink drink.
He couldn’t help but think about how pretty you looked, you were wearing a pastel purple sundress with a light green apron with vines and flowers embroidered on it.
The sight made him smirk—something about you baking in a kitchen full of teenagers, in your floral apron, amused him. It was such a stark contrast to your usual intellectual, no-nonsense attitude.
“Whatcha got cookin’, sweetheart?” Logan’s gruff voice broke the bustling sounds of mixing and chopping.
You didn’t glance up, too focused on guiding Emily through making the pie dough. "Just baking some pies and pastries. Using up the leftover fruit. Do you want some?" you asked casually, not thinking too much about the fact that Logan was watching you.
Logan shrugged, stepping further into the kitchen. “Depends. Is it any good?”
You finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You doubt my baking skills?”
He chuckled lowly, leaning against the counter now, close enough to see what you were working on. “Wouldn’t call it doubt, doll. Just curious.”
You gave him a small smirk, hands moving skillfully as you finished helping Emily measure the remaining ingredients. "You’ll have to wait until they’re done to find out."
One of the students, Ben, interrupted, grinning as he wiped flour off his hands. "Y/N’s baking is the best! She made these strawberry scones last time—they were gone in like ten minutes."
Logan raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing glance. "Impressive, princess. Maybe I will stick around."
You rolled your eyes at the nickname but didn’t comment. Instead, you turned back to Emily, helping her roll out the dough. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice Logan's teasing, it was just that you didn’t think much of it. Guys didn’t usually flirt with you. At least not seriously. Most found your intelligence intimidating, or they simply saw you as ‘one of the guys.’ Logan’s pet names, in your mind, were just part of his rough-and-tumble personality, nothing more.
But Logan, on the other hand, found your obliviousness endearing. The fact that you didn’t seem to realize he was flirting with you only made him try harder, though he kept it casual enough not to push you away. He liked the challenge.
“You need any help?” Logan offered, gesturing toward the fruit Ben was chopping haphazardly.
“You’re not gonna burn the kitchen down?” you teased, wiping your hands on your apron before reaching for a bowl.
“I think I can handle it,” Logan said, a grin tugging at his lips.
You handed him a knife, showing him how to properly slice the strawberries. “Here, like this. We need them thin for the pastries.”
You held out the knife for him, and instead of coming up beside you like you assumed he would, he stood behind you, his chest against your back, practically caging you in between him and the counter.
He could hear your heart beat faster as he cut a few slices of the strawberry, asking, "That good enough for you, sweetheart?"
His voice was low, and you could feel his breath near your ear, but you were too focused on the task at hand to fully process the closeness. You glanced at the thinly sliced strawberries, nodding absentmindedly.
"Yeah, that’s perfect," you mumbled, moving slightly away to give yourself more room to breathe, though you didn’t realize why. "Just need a few more for the pastries."
Logan continued slicing, his movements precise, though his presence remained solid and grounding behind you. You were used to people standing close when you worked in the lab or in class—tight spaces, shared equipment, it came with the territory. But this was different. Logan’s proximity felt… intense in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
"So, how long you been doin' this?" Logan asked casually, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he finished up with the strawberries.
You blinked, taking a second to register the question. "Baking? Oh, I don’t know… when I was a kid? I just started because it’s a nice break from… everything I guess.”
Jean and Ororo continued to drink their glass of champagne when Scott walked in, placing an arm around Jean’s waist as they watched the scene. “Think she’ll finally realize,” he asked.
Ororo gave a small grin and shrugged, “who knows? But Logan’s certainly getting bolder.”
Jean shook her head, “I told him to talk to her and say exactly what he was feeling, but turns out he still hasn’t taken my advice.”
Ororo chuckled as she took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze flicking back to the kitchen scene unfolding in front of them. "Well, you know Logan. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strong suit."
Scott smirked as he stood next to Jean, his arm still comfortably draped around her waist. "Yeah, but subtlety doesn’t seem to be the problem here," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Logan hover around you. "He’s not exactly hiding it."
Ororo tilted her head, amused by how oblivious you remained despite Logan’s efforts. It wasn’t that you were unobservant; you were incredibly sharp—when it came to science, mechanics, and even battle tactics. But personal matters? Especially the ones involving yourself? Not so much.
"Poor girl," Ororo mused, shaking her head. "She’s a genius, but this…" She waved a hand in Logan’s direction. "This seems to be one thing she’s totally clueless about."
Jean smiled sympathetically. "She’s not used to people flirting with her. I mean, guys either get intimidated by her brain, or they just see her as a fellow intellectual, not… you know, a woman."
Ororo raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Logan clearly sees her as a woman. He’s made that much obvious. But I wonder how long it’ll take for her to figure it out."
Jean laughed softly. "At this rate? It might take a while."
The three of them watched with growing curiosity as Logan stood there, his broad shoulders and rough demeanor somehow fitting perfectly in the domestic scene of baking pastries with students. You, on the other hand, were entirely focused on getting the strawberry puff pastries just right, completely unaware of how closely Logan was watching you—or how he lingered longer than necessary when he handed you the knife, or how his teasing nicknames held a deeper meaning.
"She’s too smart for her own good," Scott added, shaking his head with a chuckle. "But when it comes to this, she's got blind spots."
Jean nodded in agreement. "Y/N is convinced she knows everything—and to be fair, she does know a lot—but she’s missing the whole picture here."
---
After Logan’s stunt on baking day, he wondered just how much further he could go. Sure, he could take Jean’s advice and outright tell you, but he also liked seeing you riled up and confused by his words and actions.
Like a few days ago, all he did was pull out your chair at dinner with the rest of the group and you just stood there, confused by the gesture. It took a few moments for you to understand and finally sit down before he pushed the chair closer to the table for you.
Or now, they were having a briefing, or meeting, about God knows what, most of everybody seated. You and Ororo were the last people to come in, aside from Charles. Ororo went to sit down at an open seat and as you looked around you came to the conclusion that there weren’t any other chairs available.
You were content with the fact that you were going to stand for the short meeting, as you found a spot to stand at the opposite end of the large round table, close to Logan.
“C’mere doll.” Logan said, lazily gesturing for you to come closer.
You hesitantly did, stopping next to his chair, your knee brushing his thigh. “What?”
He patted his thigh, “I don’t bite.”
Your eyes widened, a cute, innocent expression that he enjoyed seeing on your face, as you looked around the room. “I, uh- ”
Logan’s smirk widened, clearly finding your hesitation endearing. He patted his lap again, his eyes glinting with a teasing light. “C’mon, doll. Don’t be shy. There’s a perfectly good seat right here.”
You hesitated, your brain racing to process the situation. It wasn’t exactly appropriate for a professional setting, but you were running out of options. The only other seats were either taken or a bit too far from the discussion table. With a small sigh, you decided to give in. You didn’t want to stand for the entire meeting, and it was just one of those moments where you had to roll with it.
“Alright,” you said. You shot a glance around the room, but most people were already absorbed in their conversations or taking notes. You gingerly sat down on the edge of his lap, trying to maintain a sense of propriety despite the awkwardness of the situation.
Logan’s arm naturally wrapped around your waist to stabilize you, but he didn’t say anything as you settled. You could feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket, and it was strangely comforting despite the unusual circumstances. He leaned in slightly, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “You alright there, sweetheart?”
You nodded, trying to focus on the meeting but acutely aware of how close he was. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, though you could feel your cheeks warming slightly. “Just trying to get comfortable.”
Logan chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and making you shift just a bit closer. His hand rested lightly on your hip, not too firm but enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. You tried to ignore it and concentrate on the meeting, but his proximity made that task rather difficult.
The meeting continued, with Charles and the others discussing various topics related to ongoing projects and missions. Logan’s hand on your hip was a constant reminder of his presence, but he remained quiet, only chiming in occasionally with his usual gruff comments or suggestions.
---
At breakfast one day, you were sitting with Hank talking about the project you two were working on that was finally getting somewhere. You had finally been able to stabilize the energy output and now you two were talking about what to do next.
Logan sipped his coffee, looking at your from afar. As always, you were dressed cute today. You were wearing a light blue sweater with a pair of your skinny jeans and white flats, paired with matching drop earrings.
Ororo and Jean came up beside him, the former tsking. Ororo gave Logan a knowing look, crossing her arms. "You still at it, huh?" she teased, nodding in your direction.
Logan grunted but didn't respond immediately, sipping his coffee as he watched you and Hank animatedly discuss your project. You were explaining something with such enthusiasm, using your hands to gesture wildly, that it made him smirk. The light blue sweater you wore today only added to the adorable vibe you unknowingly radiated.
Jean nudged him lightly. "Nine months, Logan. Nine months of flirting, and she’s still completely oblivious." She shook her head, amused.
"She’s a genius, remember?" Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "She’s supposed to know everything."
Logan snorted, finally setting his coffee down. "Well, she clearly doesn’t know this. And I’m in no rush to tell her." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His eyes didn’t leave you, even as the conversation between Hank and you grew more intense.
Jean chuckled. "It's kinda cute, though. Watching her get all flustered whenever you call her those names, like she’s completely missing the point."
"I know," Logan muttered with a grin. "She gets that little furrow in her brow, like she’s trying to figure it out, but then brushes it off. She’s too wrapped up in all her fancy projects and theories."
Ororo shook her head in disbelief. "You’ve got the patience of a saint. Most people would’ve given up by now."
Logan shrugged, glancing at Ororo. "Ain’t in any hurry. She’s worth the wait."
Jean smiled softly at that, then sighed. "Well, good luck. Maybe one day she’ll actually catch on."
As if on cue, you let out a triumphant laugh from across the room, and Logan’s attention immediately shifted back to you. You had a bright smile on your face, clearly excited about whatever breakthrough you and Hank had just made.
"You’re like a moth to a flame," Ororo muttered under her breath with a smirk, walking off with Jean to sit down.
Logan ignored her, his eyes still locked on you as you gathered up some papers and started to walk toward the exit. As you passed him, he casually stuck his leg out just enough that you had to stop short to avoid tripping.
“Logan!” you exclaimed, looking down at his leg and then up at him with confusion.
He raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. "Mornin', sweetheart."
You blinked at him, clearly thrown off for a moment. "Uh, morning." You shifted the stack of papers in your arms. "Why’d you—"
"Just wanted to say good job," he interrupted, nodding toward the papers in your hand. "Whatever you and Hank were talkin’ about over there seemed pretty important."
Your face lit up at the mention of your project, and you immediately launched into an explanation, completely forgetting about Logan's odd behavior. "Oh, yeah! We finally stabilized the energy output! It’s been driving us crazy for weeks, but we think we’ve figured out how to—"
Logan barely paid attention to the technical jargon that followed, more focused on the way your eyes sparkled as you talked, your excitement contagious. He gave a few gruff nods, pretending to follow along, but it was the way you lit up when you were passionate about something that kept him hooked.
"You’re incredible, you know that?" he said once you finished, his voice low and serious.
You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, what?"
"I said you’re incredible." He repeated, his gaze locking onto yours. "Smart, talented, and cute as a button. Gotta give credit where it’s due."
Your cheeks flushed pink, and you quickly looked down at the papers in your arms. "Oh, um, thanks, Logan," you mumbled, completely missing the deeper implication of his words, as usual. "I... I should probably get these to the lab. We need to review them before the next phase."
"Of course," Logan said, his smirk widening as he watched you stumble over your words. "But don’t forget to take a break, doll. All work and no play ain’t good for anyone."
"Right," you said, nodding as you hurried off, your mind already shifting back to your project, completely oblivious to the playful grin on Logan's face.
---
“You’ve never even been clubbing!?” Ororo exclaimed, holding up a finger to stop you from saying anything. “And you know I’m not talking about something like a ‘gardening club’.”
“And you have?” You asked, sitting on your bed as Jean looked through your closet.
Ororo laughed, shaking her head at your naivety. “Oh, Y/N, honey, I’ve been out dancing plenty of times. Clubbing is one of those things you just have to experience.”
Jean, still rummaging through your closet, chimed in, "She’s right, Y/N. It's fun to get out of the lab once in a while and let loose. You spend so much time buried in your work. You deserve a break."
You sighed, sinking back onto the bed. "I don’t know… It just seems like a waste of time. We could watch a movie, drink some wine, and call it a night."
Ororo leaned against your dresser, crossing her arms. "You can’t hide behind your projects forever, Flora. You need to socialize, let your hair down." She smirked, looking at you pointedly. "You never know, maybe someone will finally catch your eye."
You furrowed your brow, unconvinced. "Like who?"
Jean shared a knowing look with Ororo before turning to face you, holding up a dress you’d forgotten you owned. “Who knows? There could be someone at the club. Or maybe someone you’ve been completely blind to.”
Ororo raised an eyebrow and added, "Someone who’s been giving you attention for months, perhaps."
Your eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Jean grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she held up the dress in front of you. "Nothing, just an observation. Now, come on, put this on. Let’s see how it looks."
You sighed, getting off the bed and taking the dress from Jean’s hands. "I still don’t get what the big deal is. I’m perfectly fine without this whole clubbing thing."
Ororo smirked, stepping toward the door. “Trust us. You’ll thank us later.”
---
A few hours later, you found yourself standing outside one of the busiest clubs in the city, feeling slightly out of place in the dress Jean had picked out for you. The music thumped from inside the building, the bass reverberating through the sidewalk as people lined up to get in. You stood between Jean and Ororo, who both looked far more comfortable in their outfits than you felt in yours.
"I can’t believe you guys convinced me to come," you muttered under your breath, shifting on your feet as you glanced at the line of people ahead.
Jean grinned, looping her arm through yours. "You’re going to have fun. Trust me. It’s a nice change of pace."
Ororo nodded in agreement. "Plus, you deserve a night out. You’ve been working hard."
As you were about to respond, the doors of the club swung open, and you were hit with a blast of cool air mixed with the sound of thumping music. The bouncer waved the three of you in without a second glance, and before you knew it, you were inside, the lights flashing and the crowd buzzing with energy.
You followed Jean and Ororo through the throngs of people, weaving through the packed dance floor until you reached the bar. The atmosphere was unlike anything you were used to—loud, chaotic, and a little overwhelming. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet.
Ororo leaned against the bar, ordering drinks while Jean turned to you with a grin. "What do you think so far?"
You shrugged, glancing around. "It’s... different."
"Just give it a chance," Jean said, patting your arm. "Once you get a drink in you and loosen up a bit, you’ll feel better."
The bartender handed Ororo three drinks, and she passed one to you with a wink. "To new experiences, Flora."
You hesitated for a moment before raising your glass. "To new experiences, I guess."
The three of you clinked glasses, and you took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol start to settle in. Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.
---
An expensive Uber trip later and you three were back at the mansion at 4 in the morning. Luckily it was Friday, or Saturday now, so there was no need to worry about being hungover for classes.
You don’t think you’ve ever drank that much alcohol, but to be fair, you must have a really low tolerance since you never partied in college, other than the occasional glass of wine.
So, drinking around 5 or 6 fruity cocktails surely made you see things differently. Maybe just a tad bit too blurry and clumsy.
You fumbled with your keys at the mansion door, Jean giggling behind you. “Here, let me help,” she offered, her hands steadier than yours as she took the keys and unlocked the door with ease.
“I’m fine, Jean!” you protested with a laugh, swaying slightly as you stepped inside. You weren’t used to feeling so... unbalanced. Everything seemed lighter, funnier, and a little more ridiculous after the alcohol. You were starting to understand why people did this more often.
Ororo walked in behind you, shaking her head but smiling. “Maybe next time we won’t let you have quite so many drinks,” she teased, gently guiding you toward the living room. “You’re gonna feel this tomorrow.”
“I’m a genius,” you declared, holding your head high in mock dignity, “I’ll be fine.”
Jean snorted, flopping onto the couch. “Oh yeah? Even geniuses can’t outsmart a hangover.”
You waved her off, settling into a chair, only to realize it was far too squishy, causing you to slide right down onto the floor. You stared at it for a second, then burst out laughing. “Who put a trap here?”
Ororo and Jean were in hysterics now, and even though your head was spinning, you couldn’t help but join in.
“You know,” Ororo started between giggles, “for someone who knows everything, you sure don’t know how to handle a drink.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, or at least tried to. “It’s... an anomaly. Unpredictable variables.”
“Right,” Jean said, leaning back with a grin, “just like Logan’s flirting.”
You blinked, the name snapping you out of your drunken haze for a second. “Logan’s what?”
Ororo and Jean exchanged glances before looking back at you, their smiles widening.
“His flirting,” Jean repeated slowly, as if explaining a simple concept.
You squinted, feeling like your brain was moving through molasses. “Flirting? Logan? With me?”
Ororo rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, Y/N. For months. You seriously haven’t noticed?”
You stared at them both, utterly lost. “Flirting? Logan? Are you guys drunk too?”
Jean sighed dramatically, standing up. “I think you’re too far gone to process this tonight.”
You shook your head, still trying to wrap your mind around what they were saying. Logan? Flirting? With you? It didn’t make any sense. Logan was... well, Logan.
Ororo pulled you up from the floor, patting your arm. “Let’s get you to bed. You can overthink this tomorrow.”
---
The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach that felt like it was doing somersaults. Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, making a mental note to never drink that much again.
As you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to find coffee and maybe something greasy to settle your stomach, you tried to remember the details from last night. Jean and Ororo had said something about Logan... flirting with you?
You shook your head. That couldn’t be right. Logan wasn’t the type to flirt. He was gruff, tough, and mostly kept to himself. Sure, he called you pet names, but that didn’t mean anything. Right?
Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you sat at the kitchen island, still groggy. You were about to take a sip when you heard the familiar sound of boots approaching.
“Mornin’, doll,” Logan greeted as he walked in, his voice a low rumble.
You looked up at him, your brain still foggy, and for some reason, the word ‘flirting’ popped into your mind again. You stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, your head tilting slightly.
“Uh... morning,” you replied, your voice a little more unsure than usual. You couldn’t stop replaying what Jean and Ororo had said last night. Was this flirting? You eyed Logan, trying to decipher his expression.
He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
Logan chuckled, that deep, rough sound that always sent a weird shiver down your spine. “Guess you didn’t take my advice about not overdoing it, huh?”
You blinked. “What advice?”
“Last night,” he said, smirking, “told ya not to have too many drinks, sweetheart.”
Your brow furrowed. “Wait, you were there?”
“Yeah,” Logan said, clearly amused. “Passed by when you three were heading out. You looked excited about... whatever the hell it is you get excited about.”
You frowned, trying to remember him saying that. It was all so hazy. Then you shook your head, deciding to just drop it. “Well, I’ll survive.”
Logan gave you a lazy grin. “Tough as nails, aren’t ya?”
You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I guess so.”
There was a moment of silence before Logan pushed off the counter and moved closer. He reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your cheek for just a second too long. “Good thing. Wouldn’t want ya to break, sweetheart.”
Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. This was... different. You felt your face heat up, and you quickly turned your attention back to your coffee. “Uh... right.”
Logan’s smirk didn’t fade as he stepped back. “See ya around, darlin’.”
You watched him leave the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. What was that? Was that what Jean and Ororo had been talking about? Or was it just him being old-fashioned, after all he was over 200 years old, and you were a mere 25. He was the Wolverine, and you were just a young teacher that happened to be an X-Men.
---
It had been a week since you had gone out clubbing with Jean and Ororo and you were too far gone in your own mind. You started observing things more carefully, the way Logan would rest his hand on your lower back when he was walking you to your next class, how he occasionally brought you snacks when you were in the lab, telling Hank that they were only for you, and finally, how he really only called you nicknames.
Ever since that realization, you tried to keep it hidden, to process it on your own. After all, guys didn’t like you. You weren’t exactly the kind of girl they wanted.
Logan noticed how you got more nervous around him, your heart beating faster, how you seemed to stumble over your words more often than not around him. At one point, he asked Jean about it, to which she revealed her and Ororo did what he couldn’t.
He ended up outside of your office, hearing you talk to one of the senior students about which colleges were the best for his major. You assured him that just because it was September, doesn’t mean he’s too late to apply.
Logan knocked on the door as you said that the door was unlocked. He hadn’t seen your outfit today, a white pencil skirt paired with a skintight, long sleeve peach colored shirt. Your hip was leaning against the front of the desk next to where the student was sitting.
Kean looked between the two of you, before quickly gathering his things and the brochures you gave him for various colleges.
"Remember to look into some engineering programs! I’d think they’d be great for you!" You called out after Kean, watching as the student hurried out of your office. The door clicked shut behind him, and you sighed, thinking of the next round of paperwork waiting on your desk. You were about to walk around your desk to sit down when you noticed Logan still standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes focused on you in that intense way he often did.
"Sweetheart, got a minute?" Logan's voice was rough, familiar, and held that signature casualness that made it feel like he wasn't really asking.
You blinked, startled for a second before nodding. "Uh, yeah. Sure, Logan. What's up?"
Logan stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning you briefly. "You looked pretty wrapped up in your work. Thought you could use a break."
Your mind raced, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, I’ve been helping some of the seniors with their college stuff," you explained, motioning to the brochures still scattered across your desk. "It's that time of year where they start panicking about applications."
Logan smirked, his arms crossing over his chest. "You always keep yourself busy, don’t ya, doll?"
You rolled your lower lip while humming as your answer. You crossed your arms, watching as Logan came closer to you, standing almost toe to toe with your pointy short peach colored heels.
“You finally figured it out then, didn’t ya?” He asked.
“I- well, uh…” you stammered, suddenly feeling heat rush to your face. Why was Logan looking at you like that? And what did he mean by ‘you finally figured it out’? Were Ororo and Jean right?
Logan’s smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched you fumble over your words. "You’re a genius, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now."
Your heart raced, and you felt your palms start to sweat. Why was he so close? You tried to focus on the conversation, on anything other than how your body was reacting to his presence. "N-noticed what?" you managed to get out, your voice sounding way less composed than you intended.
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far more than you were. "How I’ve been flirtin’ with ya for months now," he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.
Your brain short-circuited. Flirting? Logan? Flirting? With you? That didn’t make any sense. Logan flirted with women who were… well, not you. He was the rough-around-the-edges kind of guy who went for women who were confident, flirtatious, and knew how to handle someone like him. You were the awkward genius who spent more time in the lab than anywhere else. Guys didn’t flirt with you.
"You’ve been—wait, what?" you asked, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "You’ve been flirting with me?"
Logan chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, doll. Pretty sure everyone at the mansion’s noticed by now." His smirk returned as he added, "Except you, apparently."
Your face burned, and you tried to think back. Had he been flirting? The nicknames, the snacks, the casual touches… it all seemed so… normal for Logan. You thought he was just being friendly, maybe a bit protective like he was with some of the younger students.
"I—" You started to say something but stopped, unsure of what exactly to say. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath you. "Why didn’t anyone tell me?"
Logan shrugged. "Didn’t think it was their place. Figured you’d catch on eventually." His gaze softened, and he added, "Didn’t expect you to be this oblivious, though. Kinda cute."
You were sure your face couldn’t get any redder. "I’m not… I’m not oblivious," you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. "I just didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me."
Logan’s eyebrows shot up. "And why the hell not?"
"Because I’m… me!" You motioned to yourself, like that explained everything. "Guys don’t flirt with me, Logan. They’re usually intimidated or just… I don’t know. I’m not the kind of girl guys like."
You didn’t have any friends until you came here, which was sad because you were 24 when you finally had some.
Sure, you tried to make some during college, joined the gardening club and the astronomy club, but whenever you talked people would never really listen to you.
You even tried going on a few dates with some guys from online dating apps. They were your age, but they were in their third year of college while you were already working on two master’s degrees. You even had similarities with a few of them.
One guy liked Star Wars, and you went into a short rant about how the physics of it was wrong and even talked about a bunch of the lore behind it. Same with the other 2 dates you went on, they were all one and done.
Guys didn’t like you. That’s just the way it was.
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, doll. You think guys don’t notice you?”
You crossed your arms, feeling defensive again. “I don’t think, I know. Trust me, I’ve tried.” You paused, hesitating before you added, “I’m not exactly… good at this kind of thing. Social stuff, I mean. I’m better at figuring out equations than people.”
Logan stepped closer, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “You’re wrong, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You’ve got this idea in your head that no one’s gonna want you because you’re too smart or too different, but that ain’t true. Not even close.”
You blinked up at him, unsure of how to respond. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter in a way that felt both exciting and terrifying. “I just… I don’t see why you’d be interested in me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re Logan. You could have anyone.”
Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I don’t want just anyone.” His eyes locked onto yours, his tone becoming serious. “I want you.”
Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. You had no idea what to say. Logan had been flirting with you—Logan, the gruff, no-nonsense guy you’d come to admire over the past year—and you’d been completely clueless. How could someone like him, someone who seemed so out of your league, be interested in you?
“I… I don’t understand,” you mumbled, still struggling to process everything. “Why me?”
Logan sighed, as if he had been waiting for this question for months. “Because you’re brilliant, Y/N. You’ve got this fire in you, this passion for everything you do. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t let anyone push you around. And you’re so damn kind, even when you don’t have to be.” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell you, but… well, you’re not exactly the easiest person to talk to about feelings.”
You blinked. “I’m not?”
Logan smirked. “No, sweetheart, you’re not. You overthink everything. Makes it kinda hard to tell you I like you without you analyzing it to death.”
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, not really knowing what else to say. “I just didn’t think you… I didn’t think anyone would… you know.”
Logan stepped even closer, so close that you had to sit on the edge of your desk. “Well, I do,” he said, his voice low. “And I’ve been waitin’ for you to figure it out.”
You stared up at him, your mind still reeling. All this time, Logan had been flirting with you, had liked you, and you hadn’t noticed. And now, here he was, standing so close you could feel his breath on your skin, telling you exactly how he felt. It was overwhelming, to say the least.
"Logan, I…" you started, but the words got caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to something like this. Part of you wanted to brush it off as some kind of misunderstanding, but the way he was looking at you, the way he had always looked at you, made it clear that this wasn’t a joke or a misunderstanding.
He really liked you.
Logan smirked at your silence, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Speechless, huh? That’s a first," he teased, his voice low and rough in that way that made your stomach flip.
You shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "It’s just… I didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me. You’re Logan, and I’m…" You gestured to yourself awkwardly. "Me."
Logan frowned slightly, his brows pulling together. "What the hell’s that supposed to mean?"
You shrugged in response, turning your head downward to look down at your lap. It didn’t last long, because Logan put his thumb on your chin, turning your head upright to look at him.
He noticed your expression change, you were someone who was easy to read, never really kept her emotions hidden well, or at least not to him. You went from big doe eyes and sad, pouty lips to flustered. Your eyes were curious and almost nervous and your pink lips, courtesy of the colored lip balm you always wore, were slightly parted.
Logan held your gaze, his thumb gently resting on your chin, and you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken under his touch. He was so close now, close enough that the musky scent of him was filling your senses, making it even harder to think clearly.
"You really think I’d waste my time on someone I didn’t want?" Logan’s voice was low, gruff, but there was a softness to it that you hadn’t heard before.
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words were jumbled in your mind, and all you could focus on was the way his rough fingers were still holding your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. The confidence he exuded was overwhelming. How could he be so sure, so calm, while you felt like your brain was on fire?
"Logan, I…" you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his hand, the warmth of his body so close—it was too much.
He let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Doll, you’re overthinking again."
Your lips pressed together into a thin line as you tried to get a handle on your spiraling thoughts. "I’m just… surprised. I didn’t think…" You hesitated, the words feeling clumsy in your mouth. His thumb moved slightly up, still holding onto your chin but now brushing against your lower lip, making it more difficult to concentrate or come up with a single coherent thought.
No one had ever treated you like this, so kindly and… normally. You thought back to the only 3 dates you had ever been on during college, how none of them ever really tried to get to know you, or peel back the layers behind your smarts.
Because you weren’t just smart, you loved gardening, and baking, hell, you even liked to dress cute. And out of all the guys, Logan never treated you like someone different. It was nice to be around someone like that, who embraced who you were rather than try and get you to bury it. Maybe it was his age? You remember reading an article from a psych organization about how younger women like older men because of emotional maturity-
Rough hands cupped your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Hey, stop thinkin’. What the hell could you be thinkin’ about right now?”
You gave a shy smile and shook your head gently, his hands still on your face. “Nothin’,” you mumbled, your voice softer than you intended. You tried to play it off like everything was fine, but Logan wasn’t buying it.
Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, his thumb brushing your cheek now. "You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart." His voice was low, that gravelly tone sending shivers down your spine.
You swallowed, your mind still racing as you searched for the right words. "I just… I don’t get why you’d want me," you admitted, your eyes flicking away from his. "You’re this… badass, Logan. You’ve been through so much. You could have anyone."
His hands stayed where they were, his touch gentle but firm as he guided your gaze back to his. "I told you, doll. I don’t want anyone else. I want you."
You blinked up at him, still unsure of how to respond. It felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, and your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts. On one hand, Logan was the last person you ever thought would have feelings for you. On the other hand, here he was, being painfully honest, and you couldn’t deny the sincerity in his voice.
"I just…" you hesitated, biting your lip, "I don’t know how to do this, Logan. I’m not… I’ve never been good at… people. Relationships. I mean, I’m good at math, science, and solving problems but not—this."
Logan chuckled softly, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You don’t gotta be good at it, Y/N. You just gotta be you." His voice softened, the teasing tone dropping away as he said, "That’s all I’ve ever wanted."
Your breath caught in your throat. He made it sound so simple, like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was a big deal to you. You hadn’t dated much—hardly at all, if you were being honest. Relationships felt like another complex equation you couldn’t quite solve.
"Logan, I…" you started, but he cut you off, his hands dropping from your face to settle on your hips, pulling you just a little closer.
"You overthinkin’ again?" Logan smirked, one eyebrow raised.
You couldn’t help but smile at that. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your voice quiet. It was hard to concentrate when he was so close, his hands resting on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"That’s what I thought," Logan muttered, leaning in just enough that his forehead almost touched yours. "You don’t gotta figure everything out right now, doll. Just… let it happen."
You stared at him, your mind whirling. "Let it happen?" you echoed, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying.
"Yeah," Logan said softly, his voice rough but soothing at the same time. "Stop tryin’ to solve it like it’s some kinda problem. Just be with me."
You blinked, your heart doing that weird fluttering thing again. Be with him? It sounded so simple when he said it like that. But you couldn’t help the flood of doubt that kept creeping into your mind. What if you screwed it up? What if you weren’t good enough at this? What if—
Logan’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, and he pulled you closer, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. "Y/N, you’re doin’ it again," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble in the space between you. "You’re thinkin’ too much."
You sighed, biting your lip again. "I can’t help it," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed. "That’s just how my brain works."
Logan chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "I know, darlin’. But you don’t gotta do that with me."
His words hung in the air, and you found yourself staring at him, completely unsure of what to say next. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever made you feel like it was okay to just… be. You were always the smartest person in the room, always expected to have the answers, to be the one in control. But with Logan, it felt different. He didn’t expect you to be anything but yourself.
"I…" You trailed off, your throat tightening. "I don’t know how to not overthink things."
Logan’s smirk softened, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as they met yours. "Then I’ll just have to distract you, won’t I?"
Before you could even process what he was saying, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It was like everything around you froze for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to catch up with what was happening.
Logan was kissing you.
Logan.
Was kissing.
You.
Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. It wasn’t what you expected—nothing in your life had ever felt like this. The warmth, the softness of his lips against yours, the way he held you like you were something precious… it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
If you would’ve told your past self from five years ago, hell, even two months ago, that your first kiss would be with the Wolverine, you would’ve thought it was some grand, cosmic joke. But there you were, hands fisting into Logan’s shirt, his lips gently pressing against yours like this was the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first kiss would go. Not that you’d spent a lot of time imagining it—honestly, you’d been too busy with equations, papers, and research to even consider the prospect of someone being interested in you. But if you had pictured it, this wouldn’t have been it. Not with a man like Logan.
His rough hands held you in place, strong but careful, as if he was hyper-aware of how delicate you felt in his grasp. You, who could bend nature to your will, whose intelligence far surpassed anyone’s expectations, felt completely and utterly vulnerable in his arms.
When he pulled back, it wasn’t by much. His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and slightly uneven. Logan’s lips curved into a smirk, one you could practically feel against your skin.
“Well,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, ��that didn’t seem too bad, did it?”
You blinked up at him, still trying to recover from the shock. “I… I don’t—what just happened?”
Logan chuckled softly, his thumbs brushing small circles into your hips, keeping you grounded when your thoughts were spinning out of control. “I just kissed ya, sweetheart. And unless I’m readin’ the situation wrong, you didn’t mind too much.”
Your mind raced, heart hammering in your chest. “No, I—” You paused, biting your lip as you tried to form a coherent thought. “I didn’t mind. It’s just—”
“Just what?” Logan’s voice softened, his expression growing more serious as he studied your face.
“I wasn’t expecting it.” You swallowed, looking away from him for a moment before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. “I didn’t think someone like you… I mean, I didn’t think you would- I didn’t think anyone would- ”
Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but when you didn’t, he took a step closer. His hand was still resting on your hip, keeping you anchored to him, and the heat of his body was impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think what, sweetheart?”
You swallowed, feeling the weight of his question press down on you. It was like all the words in your head had turned to static, and you couldn’t figure out how to string a coherent sentence together. "I just… I don’t know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Logan’s lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, but his eyes stayed serious. "You don’t know, or you don’t wanna say?"
You bit your lip, your mind still reeling from the kiss. The memory of it—soft, unexpected, but not unwelcome—was playing on a loop in your head. You hadn’t been kissed much, if at all, and the idea that Logan was the one to give you your first real kiss was still something you were trying to process.
But you couldn’t lie, it was nice. You were 25, just had your first kiss, and suddenly you felt like a teenager in a Disney movie.
A grin slipped past your lips. "I just wasn’t expecting you to kiss me, old man," you finally replied, your voice teasing but soft.
Logan’s eyebrows raised, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Old man, huh?" he murmured, his voice dipping into that gravelly tone that always made you feel a bit flustered. "Pretty sure that kiss just proved I’ve still got it."
You laughed softly, your hands still fisted in his shirt, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. Logan’s smirk widened at the sound of your laughter, and you could feel the tension in the air start to ease, just a little.
"Yeah, maybe you do," you replied, your voice soft but teasing as you looked up at him, your heart still beating a little too fast from the kiss. "Guess you're not as rusty as I thought."
Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Rusty?" he repeated, his voice low and playful, with that gravelly edge that made your stomach flip every time. "You seriously thought I was rusty, sweetheart?"
You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite how close he was and how easily he seemed to get under your skin. "I don’t know. I mean, you’re a couple of hundred years old. Thought you might’ve lost your touch."
Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as he leaned in just a little closer. "Oh, darlin'," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I ain't lost a damn thing."
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Logan’s confidence was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just that—there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you, a softness in his touch that made your chest feel tight.
"Okay, okay," you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to deflect some of the attention. "Point taken."
Logan grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "Good," he said simply, his thumbs brushing lightly over your hips where his hands still rested. "’Cause I don’t wanna hear any more about me bein’ rusty or old. Got it?"
You nodded, biting your lip as you tried not to smile too much. "Got it."
chapter 3 of Sweet Dreams will be up tomorrow!
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic
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ONE CUP OF COFFEE. theodore nott
( master list )
IN WHICH… Theodore Nott can’t stand the idea of actually falling in love but he finds himself questioning his choices after a series of rather comforting conversation with a Hufflepuff.
“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?”
Warnings: Smoking, mentioning of throwing up, mentioning of weed, swearing here and there, mentioning of hooking (pretty tame for a Theodore Nott fic tbh)
—
“One coffee. Black. No milk or sugar. Make it hotter than usual.” Theodore Nott wasted no time in repeating his order to the worker behind the counter. A new coffee shop had opened inside of Hogsmeade and in the Slytherin’s opinion, their drinks were better than any muggle one.
He tossed a few golden coins onto the table before walking away and taking a seat in a deserted corner. He liked to be away from people because despite being part of a popular Slytherin group and partying often, he wasn’t a social person.
The quiet lulling of muggle songs played around in the cafe, bouncing off the walls. Theodore pulled his turtle neck up higher, covering his bare skin from the cold air. It nipped at his slim fingers and he wished he had taken a pair of Draco’s Dior gloves now.
The rusted bell attached to the door dully rang as someone else entered. The cafe wasn’t too crowded. There were a few other students scattered here and there but not many people were willing to freeze just to grab a coffee.
Melted snow dripped off Theodore’s boots as his observant eyes followed the actions of the newcomer. He couldn’t tell what house she was in because she was wearing all white, but she definitely wasn’t a Slytherin. The girls clad in green and silver had a certain aura; an unfriendly, poisonous, and addictive one.
This girl radiated off sunshine and daffodils and basking in the warmth of a crackling fire. Theodore guessed she was in Hufflepuff because she had a certain charm to her bright smile.
“One cinnamon chai latte.” She ordered, kindly handing the cashier a few coins. She was practically the opposite of Theodore.
“Name?” The cashier asked, much comfortable in her presence as opposed to the Slytherin who sat a few feet away.
“Y/N.”
Her name jogged Theodore’s memory. She was the girl Lorenzo had been paired with in herbology. It was quite a long and dragged out assignment so whenever Lorenzo wasn’t hanging out with his friends, he was with her.
Theodore subconsciously sat up straighter and leaned forward to get a better look at Y/N. Lorenzo described her as a pretty and bright girl with a warm perspective on life. Instead of saying “what’s the worst that could happen?” She always said “what’s the best that could happen?”
Theodore was somewhat impressed by how positive a person could be.
He didn’t notice he had been staring until Y/N turned her head, innocent E/C eyes burning holes into his. Theodore almost jumped. He quickly adverted his gaze, clenching his jaw.
Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Y/N sit at the table beside him. She sat with her legs oddly crossed and her body was turned so she could look at him.
“Theodore Nott, right? Enzo’s friend?” Her voice was gentle, like a meadow full of daisies and glittering ponds of water.
Theodore thickly swallowed before he nodded. “Yeah. Lo’s talked about you. You were his partner for potions.” The brunette had never heard anybody call Lorenzo by Y/N’s nickname, but maybe that was because he didn’t allow anybody to call him that. Unless it was Y/N, of course.
The poor boy was smitten with her during fifth year but he shyly backed off when he realised he had too much competition. To this day, Draco was still trying to convince him to man up.
“He talked about me?”
“Only once or twice.” Theodore lied through his teeth. He may be a tease, but he refused to out his friend.
“The assignment we did was so annoying. I’m glad I had him as my partner. If it was anybody else, I would’ve gone mad.” Y/N signed and a small laugh slipped past her pink-tinted lips.
“You practically saved his herbology grades. Lo is smart but his plant knowledge is in the negatives.” Theodore huffed in amusement, his mouth curving into a sly smirk.
“He’s good with everything else, though.” Y/N uttered. Out of the whole Slytherin group, Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy had the highest grades. Blaise couldn’t care less; he still scored pretty high but grades weren’t his whole life. And Matteo and Theodore, the players they were, didn’t even bother studying for exams.
“Black coffee.” The barista suddenly called out, making Theodore realise he had never given the worker his name.
“That must be your’s.” Y/N said, nodding over at the steaming drink. She smiled, which almost set Theodore’s heart alight. It was already drowning in gasoline and her damn grin may as well be the flaming match. “Theo?” She waved a hand in front of his face as he spaced out.
“Huh?” Finally, his blank eyes shifted to stare at her.
“Your coffee.” Y/N reminded him.
“Oh. Right. I’ll see you later.” Theodore was quick to stand up and grab his drink, the paper cup burning the palm of his hand.
“See you later, Theo!” Y/N called out, not seeming to notice his uneasy mood.
Theodore sped walked out of the coffee shop, holding a hand to his chest. His stomach sank as dread overwhelmed him.
Him and Matteo were like two peas on a pod. They shared the same habits too, like drinking their sorrows away and smoking until their lungs burned. And let’s not forget their infamous reputations as playboys. Theodore Nott didn’t do relationships so he refused to let a soft Hufflepuff change his mind.
Despite shoving down whatever warm feeling he felt when he was next to Y/N, Theodore couldn’t help but crane his head in search for a certain flash of H/C hair.
“Black coffee. Extra hot.” He muttered absentmindedly to the same cashier who had served him a week before.
“Name?” She asked, bored eyes gazing up at him.
“Theo.” He quickly replied, turning his head again when he thought he saw Y/N. He felt disappointed when it wasn’t her. The worker seemed to notice.
“Are you looking for that Hufflepuff you were talking to last time?” She questioned, arching a thin brown eyebrow. Theodore glanced down at her name tag that read Eulia.
“No.” He quickly denied her inquiry, wrapping his long Slytherin scarf tighter around his bare neck.
“She comes in every week around this time. She’ll be here soon.” Eulia said, glancing over Theodore’s shoulder to take in the growing line. She cleared her throat, reminding Theodore of where he was.
As usual, he threw some coins onto the countertop and walked away to the same table he sat at before. His head perked up when he heard the sound of familiar laughter.
Y/N walked in, waving good-bye to her Ravenclaw friend. “The usual, Y/N?” Eulia asked, already typing her order into the monitor.
Y/N practically bounced over to Theodore, taking a seat in front of him. “Hey, long time no see. I thought I’d see you at school but I guess not.”
“I was busy.” Theodore lied. In truth, he had been hauled up in his dorm and listening to Draco rant about Pansy.
“Doing what?” Y/N innocently tilted her head to the side, genuinely curious.
Theodore, as blunt and brainless as ever, blurted out the first thing he could think of. “Weed, drugs, and smoking.” He wanted to bash his head into the table. What kind of response was that?
Yes, he used to do all those things but he had toned it down. The only addiction he had was smoking now.
“I don’t know why I said that. It was the first thing that popped up in the mind.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head.
“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Y/N laughed, “By the way, your cigarettes are about to fall.” She pointed to the packet that was lazily shoved into Theodore’s pocket. He quickly caught it.
“I don’t do weed or drugs anymore.” He uttered, “Just so you know.”
From the coffee machines, Eulia rolled her eyes. “Coffee for Theo. Cinnamon chai latte for Y/N.” She called out, placing the drinks down.
Theodore quickly stood up. “I’ll get them.” He offered, not waiting for a response.
“Smooth.” Eulia said as he grabbed the drinks.
“Cut me some slack. I’m used to hooking up with toxic girls, not chatting over coffee with a sweet Hufflepuff.” Theodore lightly scoffed.
“So, Theo, what do you want to do when you graduate?” Y/N asked as soon as he sat back down again.
He shrugged. “I don’t know.” In all his years of Hogwarts, he had never thought about it. “What about you?”
“I want to open a bakery.” Y/N said like she had been waiting the question to come up.
Theodore raised his eyebrows. “You like baking?”
“Yup! I’ll bake you something next week. Do you like chocolate?”
“Who doesn’t?” Theodore only knew one person who didn’t like chocolate, and that was Pansy. But to be fair, she had gotten food poisoning from spiked chocolate in third year.
It was safe to say that she spent most of that day hunched over the toilet while Matteo held back her hair and Lorenzo gently got her to drink water, which she threw up too but it’s the thought that counts.
“Great! I have to go now. I’m meeting up with another friend. See you at school, Theo!” Y/N effortlessly chugged her scorching hot drink. She slammed the cup against the table, grinning.
“What the…” Theodore was still trying to process what had just happened as he watched Y/N run out of the cafe and into the arms of her friend
The next week, Y/N arrived earlier than Theodore. He had been held up by Blaise, who was curious as to why he was visiting the same coffee shop three times in a row.
Theodore entered the store after managing to shake Blaise off. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering despite the atmosphere being warm.
Eulia, who seemed to be on duty every day, had already made his drink and placed it in front of Y/N. She was too busy doodling on his cup with a permanent marker to notice his sudden appearance.
“Cute outfit.” He said as he sat down, the legs of his chair scraping against the tilted floor. Y/N’s face visibly lit up at his small compliment. Theodore observed her pink sweater with little bows sewn on it and her short white skirt with fleece leggings lining her legs.
“As promised, your cookie.” Y/N slid the box over to Theodore, smiling. “I would recommend heating it up. A warm cookie is better than a cold and hard one.”
“Do you bake often?” Theodore asked, taking the box and letting it rest on his lap.
“I try to bake as much as I can. I like helping the house elves too.” Y/N began to fondly talk about her love for baking and as much as Theodore tried to focus on her words, his gaze wandered to a suspicious group huddled in the opposite corner.
Once Theodore looked past their dark sunglasses and large coats, he recognised them as his friends. He saw Draco shove past Pansy and he surely pointed at Y/N then at Theodore before slapped his hands together.
Theodore stared at him, puzzled. And it showed as he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. Y/N didn’t seem to notice his wavering attention, much to his relief.
“Do you want to bake together sometime, Theo?” Y/N asked, bringing him back to their conversation. He felt a little guilty because he hadn’t heard another word of what she had said.
“Sure. Though, I don’t think I’d be much help. Matt and I tried making edibles once and we messed that shit up.”
From behind Draco, Matteo glared at Theodore. It was your fault, he mouthed. He wasn’t lying, Theodore had gotten just about every ingredient in the recipe wrong.
“Edibles?” Y/N tilted her head to the side.
“Weed brownies.” Theodore elaborated, “But that was last year. I don’t do that anymore, remember? I only party and smoke.”
“I know. You told me.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Y/N’s gaze flickered to his packed of cigarettes that always looked like it was about to fall out.
“Would you like to come to a party with me?” Theodore asked, leaning forward. There was one in the Slytherin common room next week. Normally, people from other houses weren’t invited but if you had the right connections, you’d be let in.
“Parties aren’t my thing. I… don’t like the vibe. You know?”
“That’s fine. You ever tried smoking?”
“No. Cedric offered to teach me but I declined.” Y/N frowned at the lost opportunity.
“I’ll teach you.” Theodore said a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you keeping me company wouldn’t be so bad.” He grabbed his packet, sliding it across the table. “These are my good ones. Keep ‘em and whenever you’re having a bad day or just wanna have a smoke, find me. I’ll light one for you.”
From across the room, Matteo lightly gasped. Theodore never ever shared his good cigarettes with anyone, not even him.
“Really?” Y/N picked up the worn-out box, staring at it.
“Yeah. I gotta get going. My friends are probably wondering where I am.” Theodore, once again, lied through his teeth. He knew his friends had questions and he didn’t want to keep them waiting. He stood up, feeling Pansy’s gaze burn a hole through him.
“Enjoy the cookie!” Y/N exclaimed, grinning and waving him off.
Theodore smiled. “I’m sure I will, love.” He walked out of the cafe, his friends following close behind and bombarding him just like he had predicted.
“You clearly have some sort of feelings towards her.” Panay said as she poked the brunette beside him. All throughout breakfast, Panay had been trying to get Theodore to admit his growing affection for Y/N. He denied it every time.
“I don’t.” He said for the third time, leaning down to stuff some bacon into his mouth. As he quickly chewed, his gaze flickered to Y/N.
“You’re looking at her again!” Pansy exclaimed, huffing. “It’s so obvious you like her!”
“Where’s Lo and Draco?” Theodore changed the subject, realising the two boys were missing.
“You can’t change the topic. You like her and you know it.” Unfortunately for Theodore, Pansy was persistent. Maybe a little too much.
“Theo likes who?” Lorenzo tilted his head to the side in curiosity. The whole group, even Blaise who laughed at awkward situations, froze.
Nobody responded for a moment before Blaise put down his fork. “Y/N. He likes Y/N L/N.” Theodore glared at the boy, wondering why on hell he’d even tell Lorenzo the truth.
“… Oh.” Lorenzo didn’t say much as he sat down, glancing over at Y/N. “You’re not going to break her heart, right?”
“I don’t like her. End of conversation.” Theodore groaned, taking a huge gulp from his goblet.
“I don’t believe you.” Lorenzo uttered, pointing his fork at Theodore’s eyes, “Your eyes say it all. You keep looking at her every minute and when you do, your eyes soften.”
Pansy snickered, nudging Theodore. “Told you.”
“If you don’t like her, then you wouldn’t mind if someone else asked her out, would you?” Matteo piped up.
“You aren’t her type.” Theodore immediately replied, scoffing.
“We’re practically the same, Theo. If I’m not her type then you aren’t. She’s pretty and all but I don’t date. That guy, on the other hand, seems like he does.” Matteo pointed over to a Ravenclaw boy approaching Y/N. The whole Slytherin group watched as he nervously asked her something and when she slowly nodded, his face lit up.
Theodore clenched his hands into fists. “Did he just ask her out?” He seethed, clenching his jaw.
“You don’t like her, remember? You shouldn’t care.” As usual, Matteo had that same infuriating smirk on his face. “Anyway, what are we doing for the party tonight?”
Theodore had forgotten all about it. He faintly remembered Y/N saying parties weren’t her thing. Did she like guys who didn’t party? That Ravenclaw boy looked like he didn’t. Is that why she said yes?
“I’m not doing. Not really my thing.” He uttered, shrugging. His friends looked at him in disbelief.
“Not your thing?” Matteo stammered, “Mate, the only thing you do is party! What’s gotten into you?!”
“He’s trying to turn into Y/N’s ideal type.” Pansy snickered, “He knows he isn’t the blueprint and he can’t see her with anyone else so he’s improving himself.”
“Respect, bro. But what about Izzi?” Matteo motioned to the Slytherin girl down a few rows who was Theodore’s favourite hookup.
“I don’t care about her.”
“What about the drinks?”
“I need to cut my alcohol intake.”
“Smoking? You can’t give up smoking! You’re addicted!”
“Y/N has my cigs. When she wants to learn, I’ll teach her.”
“And if she never wants to learn?”
“Then I won’t pester her. Not smoking for a while might do me some good.” Theodore on the brink of giving up smoking for some girl was a huge deal.
Matteo leaned over to Draco, “Is he sick?”
Pansy lightly snorted and she teasingly grinned, “If you mean lovesick, then yeah.”
To be honest, Theodore didn’t even know what he was doing. His head tried to convince him to return to the common room and drink like he usually did, but his heart said no.
That’s how he ended up in the courtyard, enjoying the fresh breeze.
“Theo?” An all too familiar voice called out. He practically spun around, facing Y/N. “I thought you’d be at your party.” She stared at him, confused.
“I’m taking a break from all that.” He said. Y/N silently sat beside him on the stone bench.
“I still have your cigarettes if you want them.” Y/N said, handing the packet over. “I thought about it and I don’t think I want to smoke just yet.”
“Thanks, love.” Theodore took the box, shoving it into his pocket without hesitation. Normally, he’d take one out and light it up but tonight was different.
“So, that Ravenclaw boy.” Theodore drawled. “He asked you out, huh?”
“Hm? Oh, Rowan? Yeah. I only said yes to be nice though because he helped me with some work last year.”
“You’re too kind, love. You need to know your boundaries.”
Y/N’s cheeks heated up at the sound of his endearing nickname. “I can’t say no now. It’ll just be one date then I’ll say it didn’t work out.”
“What if he wants a second date? What will you do?” Theodore moved closer to Y/N so he could feel the warmth radiating off her body. His heart jumped at their close proximity.
“Then I’ll tell him I don’t want one.” Y/N whispered, staring up at Theodore with those gentle eyes he liked so much.
“I liked your cookie, by the way.” Theodore slowly smiled, “It was good.”
“I’ll bake you a few more next time.” Y/N beamed. “I’m trying a new recipe for a brownie so I’ll give you one too!” Theodore smiled as she jumped into another rant about baking. This time, he could actually listen without being pestered by his friends.
Theodore, as usual, walked into the cafe around the same time he usually did. Eulia spotted him and subtly waved. “Has Y/N come in yet?” He asked.
Eulia hesitated before she pointed over at Y/N and Rowan. Theodore visibly deflated. He knew Y/N was only being nice to the Ravenclaw but he still felt a twinge of sadness.
“I’m sorry, Theo. If it makes you feel better, she hasn’t looked like she’s enjoyed the date. She looks much happier talking to you.” Eulia handed him his coffee.
“Right.” He sat down at a nearby table, glancing over at Y/N every so often. The slight pang in his heart reminded him of why he never dated in the first place. He quietly cleared his throat, deciding that whatever butterflies he felt for Y/N had to be drowned.
He stood up and Y/N immediately caught his gaze. She smiled and waved when Rowan wasn’t looking, but Theodore ignored her. Slowly, she lowered her hand.
As Rowan ranted on about how Ravenclaw was the best house, Y/N couldn’t help but think of what she had done to possibly anger Theodore. So much that he ignored her when he usually enjoyed her small smiles and secretive waves. She blocked out Rowan’s voice, frowning. He couldn’t grab her attention like Theodore could.
If only she knew that Theodore was simply trying not to fall in love.
Theodore avoided her for the rest of the week. Whenever she tried to approach him, he’d walk away. Even his friends were puzzled. After another failed attempt of trying to talk to Theodore, Pansy placed a hand on her shoulder.
“We’ll talk to him.” She said.
“I don’t know what I did wrong. He’s been acting so moody all of a sudden.” Y/N sighed and pouted.
“Maybe he’s on his period.” Matteo snickered at his own joke but immediately stopped when nobody else laughed with him. “I mean, Theo hasn’t had a good drink, fuck, or smoke since Monday. And all he did on that day was smoke for five minutes before he got caught.”
“I thought he liked doing all those things. Why’d he stop if it’s just going to make him grumpy?” Y/N murmured, playing with the hem of her blouse. Matteo and Pansy exchanged a glance, knowing they shouldn’t expose Theodore so early.
“He’s just being unreasonable. Don’t worry, we’ll get through to him.” Matteo grinned, his eyes flickered to the box in Y/N’s hands. “More cookies for him?”
She nodded. “Could you give this to him? It might make him feel better.” Matteo lowly hummed, taking the box. He and Pansy walked off after Theodore, muttering to each other about what could possibly be wrong with their friend.
“Theo.” Matteo called out as they entered the Slytherin Chamber. They found him sprawled out on the couch, a burning cigarette in his mouth. “Y/N made you cookies.”
Theodore looked at the box in Matteo’s outstretched arms. “I don’t want ‘em.” He said with a lazy flick of his hands.
“But you said you love her cookies. Jeez, dude, what’s gotten into you?” Matteo scoffed as he grabbed one, shoving it into his mouth. “If a girl made me cookies like these, I’d fall in love.”
“That’s the problem!” Theodore exclaimed loudly. “I’m Theodore Nott, Hogwarts resident fuck boy. I don’t do relationships! But Y/N- Y/N is making me feel things I shouldn’t!” He groaned, pulling at the ends of his hair.
“That’s the problem?” Pansy huffed, taking a seat beside him. “Theo, look at yourself. You haven’t partied in ages, you haven’t drank, you haven’t had sex with any other girl since last month. And you haven’t been smoking up until now! If you’re willing to stop all that shit for Y/N then you obviously like her!”
“What if I’m just concealing it, huh? What if I haven’t changed and if I date Y/N, then I hurt her? I don’t care about any other girl’s feelings but Y/N, fuck. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Figure your feelings out then decide what you want to do. Easy peasy.” Matteo shrugged, eating another cookie. Theodore clicked his tongue, snatching the box out of his hands.
“It better be easy or I’m going to smoke all your favourite cigs, Matt.”
Matteo was lying. It was not easy to figure out how he felt towards Y/N. Every time he got close to her, he changed his mind last minute and rushed off. It earned him some weird looks but he couldn’t care less.
“Have you even slept lately?” Matteo questioned, slamming a cup of coffee in front of Theodore. He groaned.
“Do I look like I’ve slept?” He muttered, glowing at Matteo.
“Like a baby.” His friend teased, cruelly laughing. Lorenzo glanced over Theodore’s shoulder, clearing his throat.
“Y/N’s coming this way.” He whispered, kicking Theodore.
“What?” He looked around, panicked. Y/N was indeed walking towards him. He grabbed his coffee, splashing it onto Matteo’s wrinkled blouse.
“Yo! What the fuck, dude? That’s hot!” Matteo seethed, resisting the urge to peel his wet shirt off. Some girls hoped he would.
“Sorry, Matt. It was an accident. I’ll help you clean up.” Theodore tried to play his stunt off as an accident while practically dragging Matteo out of the hall.
“Okay, seriously, what was that all about?”
“I needed an excuse to get away.”
“So you spilled hot coffee on me?!”
“I would’ve let you do the same.” Theodore glared at his friend as he sat down and slumped. “She’s everywhere. How is she so social? I can’t get away from her.” He ran a hand through his messy hair.
“Have you been running away from Y/N this whole time?” Matteo questioned, arching an eyebrow. “It’s hilarious to imagine you running away from a girl.”
“Shut up. I’m processing things.” Theodore sighed.
“Just talk to her, Theo.” Matteo lightly nudged his leg, “What else can you lose? You’ve already lost your dignity.”
It had been a few weeks since Theodore had returned to the coffee shop. But finally, he strutted through the doorway with his usual uncaring demeanour.
Someone else entered as Theodore stood in the middle of the room, taking in everything he had missed about this cafe.
“Theo?” Y/N asked, peering over his shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He stiffened and slowly turned around. “Are you having a coffee?”
“I’ve already had one, actually. I was just seeing if this place had changed.” Theodore wanted to walk away but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Y/N’s eyes.
“Well, there’s no harm in having another one, right? It’s on me.” Y/N smiled at Eulia, “One cinnamon chai latte and…” She thought for a moment, glancing over at Theodore, “You’ve already had a coffee so one cream latte as well!”
Y/N paid and brushed past Theodore.
“Kiss her.” Eulia hissed, harshly poking Theodore’s shoulder.
“I’m not kissing her.” Theodore replied back in a hushed whisper.
“Theo, you coming?” Y/N called out, looking over her shoulder.
There was barely anybody in the cafe and even if there was, Eulia would’ve ignored their drinks to make Y/N and Theodore’s.
Theodore reached out to grab his but Y/N was quicker. She grasped both drinks, smiling at him. “We don’t have to be back at school for a while so let’s sit here.”
Theodore nervously followed behind Y/N to their usual table. He sat down, rigid and stiff. He saw his cup and glared at Eulia, who laughed. She had written a message on the cardboard, kiss her, and Theodore was quick to cover it.
He looked out the window, almost jumping with joy when he saw Matteo. “Oh! Matt! I need to talk to him! Sorry, Y/N. I’ll see you later!” He ran out of the cafe, crashing into his friend.
“Matteo! Quick! Do something!” Theodore shook his friend, urging him to create a distraction.
“Is this about Y/N?” He asked.
“She’s in the coffee shop- don’t look!” Theodore shoved his friend.
“And you need me to something stupid?”
Theodore eagerly nodded but was unprepared when Matteo pushed him forward and down a snowy hill. “Theo! Sorry! My hand slipped! I’m coming!” Matteo yelled out in a fake worried voice as Theodore rolled and got a mouthful of snow.
Y/N watched their strange interaction as she sipped on her drink. “… He didn’t call me love like he usually does.”
Y/N hummed to herself as she slipped on a pair of mittens and took out a tray of cookies. She placed the hot metal tray on the counter, the smell of baked goods wafting through the air.
She poured herself a cup of light coffee and sat down, swinging her legs. She lifted her head when she heard the sound of quiet swearing and smelled the scent of cigarettes and cologne.
“Theo?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. It was silent for a moment before the boy sheepishly pushed the kitchen doors open.
“I was looking for a snack for Pansy. She’s not feeling well.” He looked around, staring at everything but Y/N.
“I would offer her a cookie but she doesn’t really like chocolate, does she?” Y/N circled her finger around the rim of her cup, “Would you like some coffee? I made it myself.”
Theodore found himself sitting across from her against his will. He watched as she poured him a cup, softly smiling.
“Thanks.” He stammered, grabbing the white mug and gulping it down.
Y/N’s eyes widened. “Careful! Isn’t it hot?”
Theodore slammed the cup down, ignoring the burning sensation on his tongue. “No.” He wheezed, his vocal cords threatening to give up on him, “I’m fine. Tastes great.”
“You’ve spilled some.” Y/N said. She leaned forward, pointing at his collar. His top two buttons were undone and hot coffee trickled down his skin. “That must hurt. Here, let me help.”
Y/N dabbed a tissue against Theodore’s collar and he flinched as her fingers came in contact with his exposed skin. She noticed, peeking up at him through her lashes.
“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?” She asked, taking a small step back.
“What?” Theodore choked. He didn’t hate her, quite the opposite to be honest.
“You keep running away from me. And you left me in the cafe the other day. And you didn’t wave back. Do you hate me?”
Theodore hated how he could see her E/C eyes glass over. He fiddled with his mug, tapping his nails against the porcelain.
“I… have to go. Pansy needs me.” He stood up, leaving without another word. He was doing what he did best; running away from his problems.
With Theodore out of the picture, Y/N felt lonely. She dug around in her pocket, confused when she fished out a cigarette. “Oh… it must’ve fallen out.” She murmured.
She was on her way to the cafe, but not to meet up with Theodore. The day after he had walked out on her, again, a Gryffindor had approached her and asked her out. She said yes in hopes this date would be better than her date with Rowan.
Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. In fact, she felt like it was worse. Y/N stared at her cup as the boy beside her talked on and on about his love for quidditch.
“What’s your hobby?” He suddenly asked.
“Baking.” Y/N answered absentmindedly.
“Oh, that’s kind of boring. Quidditch is better, don’t you think?”
Y/N resisted the urge to sigh. Theodore never insulted her love for baking.
“Do you do anything else?” The boy questioned.
“I study.”
“Jeez, you really are boring. You wanna come to a party with me? I know a guy who’ll hook us up with some coke.”
“No thanks.” Y/N rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, watching the clock closely so she could dart away as soon as the date was over.
Someone suddenly pulled up a chair in front of Y/N. “Coke is boring.” Theodore uttered, “Baking is better.”
Y/N tried to conceal her smile since she was still upset with him, but when he winked at her, she couldn’t help it.
“What are you doing here, Nott?” The Gryffindor sneered.
“I’m here to thank you for keeping my girl company.” Theodore grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He grabbed Y/N by the wrist, tugging her out of the cafe.
“Why do you choose the shittiest guys to go out with?” Theodore asked.
Y/N lightly huffed. “It’s not like I mean to. At least they don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk, though.”
“You still upset with me, love?”
“You hurt my feelings, Nott.” Y/N pulled out the lone cigarette, shoving it into Theodore’s hand, before hurrying off.
He quickly placed it between his lips and lit it. “Let me explain, love!” He exclaimed, chasing after her. He breathed out a mouthful of smoke.
“Okay. Then explain.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest.
“What? Here? Now?” When Theodore saw the unamused look on Y/N’s face, he sighed. “Fine, but this is going to sound stupid.” He took another hit from his cigarette, needing all the courage he could get.
He took a deep breath. “I think you’re wonderful person and I didn’t want to risk hurting you so I tried to distance myself but that backfired and I was trying to process my feelings because I’m Theodore Nott. I don’t do relationships. But you made me want to give it a go so I got scared and that made me do stupid shit like spilling coffee on Matt or running away or allowing Matt to push me down a hill.”
Y/N furrowed her brows. “What are you trying to say?”
“I like you, Y/N! I like the way you smile and the way your eyes light up and I like how you look and me and how fond you are of baking! I like how you take the time to make me cookies because it makes me feel special! You treat me so differently from other girls and that’s how I know you aren’t just around for a hook up! I like your perfume and your hair and your outfits and the way you skip when you’re happy and how you read classic Muggle books because you want a cute teen romance!”
“You noticed all of that… about me?”
“How could I not? You have such a charming aura and I can’t stand it because no matter how much I try to deny it, I like you.”
“You really like me?” Y/N knew about Theodore’s reputation and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel the same way. But what if he was just toying with her?
“I do.”
“Okay then. Hug me!” Y/N exclaimed, confident he was joking. Theodore shrugged before embracing her tightly. “Uh… hold my hand!” He intertwined their fingers without hesitation. “Kiss me!” Y/N was sure he wouldn’t do it but when he leaned down and pecked her lips, she froze.
“Are you done? There’s a lot more things I’d do for you, Y/N.”
“Are you sure you like me? Like, really? Because what if we get married and you decide you don’t like me but we already have two kids and a cat together? Who will keep the cat? Or will we have shared custody over it?” Y/N spoke so fast Theodore could hardly understand her.
“What about the children?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.
“What about the cat, Theo?”
“I really do like you, Y/N. Believe it or not. I’m willing to give dating a try… if it makes I can date you.”
“Please don’t break my heart, Theo.”
“I won’t.”
“Can we finally drink coffee together without you running off?” Y/N questioned, which earned her a small chuckle from Theodore.
“I won’t run away this time, love. I promise.”
#theodore nott#pansy parkinson#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfiction#one shot#harry potter#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire#theodore nott x reader#blaise zabini#matteo riddle#friends to lovers#strangers to lovers#fluff#gryffindor#ravenclaw#hufflepuff#slytherin#slytherin gang#hufflepuff reader
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(dont) kiss me thru the phone
you were pissed that your boyfriend cheated on you and then had the audacity to ghost you after you confronted him about it. what better way to get that anger out than fucking his best friend
suna x f!reader ☆ smut ☆ 2.3k cw: fingering, dirty talk(?), penetration, cheating(?), cucking, phone sex(?), exhibitionism(?) a/n: all those damn question marks bc i cant tell if it would technically count anywho i dont condone cheating but like if someone told me they fucked their cheating bf's bsf i wouldnt judge also sorry for the osamu slander i was never a big fan of the miya twins bc i was too focused on suna so im sorry if i offend any miya stans </3
☆
you were pissed. you were beyond pissed actually. yeah, you were sad of course when you found out your boyfriend osamu had been cheating on you with some cheerleader from a neighboring college. but you were furious now that osamu had decided to ghost you after telling him you wanted to talk it out. it was pathetic and you were utterly offended. you were also upset with yourself, having not been able to see any signs that you had been dating scum of the earth.
you know you couldve been the one to take the higher ground. just take his disappearance as the breakup and try to move on with the help of the people in your life that actually cared about you. but you just couldnt. he went low and you wanted to go much much lower.
knock knock knock
standing outside of suna’s townhome, you were growing a little nervous. there was a chance suna would push you away and go inform your cheating now ex-boyfriend. but you’ve seen the way suna looked at you. you weren’t stupid. everytime osamu dragged you to parties or hangouts with his friends suna always looked at you like he was fucking you with his eyes. you stood there, hands shoved in the pockets of your pajama pants as the cold night breeze swept over you.
your body stilled when he opened the door, bare torso on display while a pair of grey shorts hung loosely at his hips. you could smell the faint scent of weed seeping out of his house. his hair was messy in the best way, green eyes narrowed at you slightly. you couldnt deny that he was attractive. but when you were still a loyal and doting girlfriend, no one else seemed as hot as your boyfriend. but things were different now.
“hello?” sunas tone was indifferent, a bit raspy from whenever he was smoking. he craned his neck for just a moment, seeing if osamu was trailing behind somewhere.
“suna i know you want to fuck me,” you blurted out, earning equally wide eyes from the man before you. he choked on his own spit, turning his head as he coughed. your face felt like it was on fire and for a second you regretted ever coming here. “im sorry i-” he was quick to put up a finger, silently telling you to wait as he got himself together. clearing his throat, suna stood up a bit taller with skepticism written all over his face. his eyes once again scanned over the area.
“are you confronting me?” suna had absolutely no clue what was going on. he half expected osamu to jump out of the bushes and knock him up just for not denying it. but he would be a liar if he did. it was true. he did want to fuck you and knew he could do so much better than osamu. but of course he didnt make any moves with the bro-code and all.
“no im not,” you shook your head, sucking in a deep breath to try to calm yourself. “i have a um… proposal,” suna’s eyebrows quirked, the corners of his lips tugging into an intrigued smile. he crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.
“well,” you grew self conscious now, rocking back on your heels as you stared at the doormat. “osamu cheated on me and is now ghosting me after i asked to talk about it and to be honest im really pissed,” suna had to manually keep his features stoic even though he was feeling a whirlwind of emotions. he was sad for you of course, no one wants to get cheated on. he was mad at osamu for cheating on someone like you. but there was also this sick sense of pride, that you came to him. suna always knew he could be better for you and now you were at his doorway. you took in another deep breath, getting ready to spew out the words before you could take them back. “i want you to call osamu because i think he’ll pick up… and if he does,” you took a hand out of your pocket, nervously running it through your hair. “if he does i’ll let you fuck me,”
the silence seemed to drag on forever. after your word vomit both you and suna had to take a moment to process the words you just said. you looked at sunas ever bland face and had no way of knowing what he was thinking.
“so,” suna started, not able to hide the smug smile on his face. “you want me to fuck you with osamu on the phone?” he watched as you nodded slowly and could feel his dick twitch in his shorts at the thought. he would effectively being ending their friendship if he did that and maybe others. but the thought of being inside you was oh so enticing. “thats a little kinky dont you think,” sunas smile only grew when he saw how flustered you were getting. it was almost hard to believe you came up with that idea.
“will you do it yes or no?” you asked instead of answering his question. because he was right. it did sound a bit kinky and you didnt feel like trying to make sense of it right now. suna did use words to answer, instead pushing off of the doorframe and motioning for you to head in. letting out a shuddery breath, you walked in. your heart was beating like crazy when suna closed the door behind you, turning on a warm lamp before flopping onto the couch. you took off your shoes, awkwardly standing by the doorway.
“so run this little plan of yours by me one more time,” he patted his hand on the cushion next to him, watching you with now hungry eyes. you sat on the edge of the couch, hands in your lap as you laid it all out on him. you wanted suna to call osamu and tell him he was fucking some random girl. you wanted to know if osamu would stay on the line. you wanted to know if he had any remorse for what he had done to you. you told suna you didnt want him to reveal it was you. that you would do the honors when you were ready. suna listened patiently, nodding along as the tent in his shorts grew with each word that left your pretty lips. “well if you want to do this we cant exactly fuck with you on the other side of the couch,”
excitement and anxiousness coursed through your veins when suna motioned for you to come sit on his lap. he wasnt trying to hide the obvious bulge in his shorts now and the size of it made you just a bit nervous. you straddled his lap with a shaky breath, looking down between the two of you as he called osamu. he put the phone on speaker, turning the volume all the way up and tossing it onto the cushion next to him.
his hands found their way to your hips as you both waited for osamu to answer, sliding them up and down your sides.
“hey whats up?”
your breath hitched in your throat when you heard his voice. anger once again rising up over the fact that he was going out of his way to ghost you but picked up the phone for his friend almost instantly.
“not much, got a pretty girl in my lap right now,” sunas tone made your body feel warm all over. he got bolder with his touches, his fingers playing with the hem of your loose fitting shirt. “said she was a freak ‘n wanted me to call you so you could listen,”
the laugh osamu let out was evil. you both could hear shuffling on his end while sunas hands moved further up.
“no shit really?”
you licked your now dry lips as suna slowly pulled your top off, a low whistling leaving his mouth as he eyed your boobs. he was quick to grab at them. one hand groping one boob softly while the other pulled and pinched at your nipple.
“yes really, shes got pretty tits,” he was quick to suck your now hardened nipple in his mouth, hips jerking under you. your breath grew ragged as you fought to stay quiet. you wanted osamu to hear you but you didnt want to be loud enough for him to know it was you just yet. he pulled off of your now wet nipple with a soft ‘pop’, his hands traveling down to grope your ass. “nice ass too,” he mused softly, looking at you with mischievous eyes as he grabbed onto the back of your thighs and gently laid you onto the couch.
you looked up at him with wide eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he slipped your pajama bottoms off. something flashed in his eyes when he saw the pretty lace panties you had on. he wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you but he decided against it for now.
“how wet is she,”
“ ‘m about to find out,” your face cringed at osamus words for just a second. because in the next, suna was smiling at you wickedly while he pulled your panties to the side. a low groan left sunas chest as he slid a finger over your already glistening folds. for a second, he forgot all about your plan, looking up at you with wide, lust filled eyes. “holy fuck youre soaked,” you turned your head away, face growing hot with embarrassment. but suna was quick to gently grab your chin, turning your face towards him once again. “keep your eyes on me,” he said softly, licking his lips as he lightly pressed his finger onto your clit.
the sound of shuffling on the other line was what brought suna back to the present and for a moment he felt a bit possessive, suddenly not wanting osamu to listen in anymore like a pervert. but he continued to play along.
“shes fucking beggin’ for it,” he said moreso to osamu as he slowly pushed a finger inside you. a soft hiss left his lips when he felt how tight you were, already clenching around him so well even if it was just one finger. at this point osamu wasn’t responding with words, his heavy breaths the only thing that could be heard. suna shrugged after a moment of waiting for a response, pressing a second finger inside your walls. you whined softly, eyelids fluttering as your hips twitched against him. he continued to work his fingers inside you, thumb rubbing over your clit in soft circles as the sounds of him fucking you with his fingers grew louder.
“oh fuck i can hear her,”
osamus voice was strained, no doubt affected by what he could hear over the phone. he was no doubt referring to the obscene noises coming from your dripping cunt while suna fucked his fingers into you.
soft whines and heavy pants were all you could manage out, afraid of giving it away too soon. your hips bucked up towards sunas hand as he worked you closer to an orgasm. his dick was straining uncomfortably against his shorts and he was growing impatient. “shes about to cum all over my hand,” suna breathed out, it was getting hard for him to pretend he was enjoying transcribing what he was doing to his cheating friend. he didnt even know if he could call osamu a friend anymore. there was silence on the other end and suna’s brows furrowed when he thought he heard osamu moan.
this was becoming harder for you to keep up, thighs trembling as you got closer and closer to release. you swore you were going to chew off your lip with how hard you were biting it. your eyes were screwed shut, hands clamping onto the couch and sunas arm. when he brought his thumb up to your clit, rubbing tight circles and pressing into it, it didnt long for you to come undone around him, a strangled moan escaping you as your back arched off of the couch.
“fuck she sounds hot,”
“she is,” that flash of possessiveness punched through suna again as he continued to slowly fuck you through your orgasm. something snapped in suna when he could hear what could be nothing other than osamu jacking off. he hastily pulled his cock out of his shorts, laying your thighs over his. his breath was ragged at he ran his tip over your slit, a groan leaving his chest when he nudged at yout fluttering hole. you whimpered, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth.
suna was growing frustrated with each noise you suppressed, he desperately wanted to hear you. wanted to hear you get fucked on his dick. he grabbed onto your hips roughly, pushing inside you with a shaky moan. fortunately for him, you were also growing tired of forcing yourself to stay quiet. you wrapped your arms around sunas neck, pulling him flush against you. both of you moaned when he bottomed up and finally being able to hear you almost made suna cum right then.
but osamu ruined it, letting out a loud moan through the phone. suna, who had finally had enough, sat up and grabbed his phone.
“i’m fucking your girlfriend,”
“wait wha-”
he hung up, tossing the phone to the side and looking back at you. your eyes were wide as you watched, cunt still clenching around him. suna put his hands on your hips, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, earning a loud cry from you.
“fuck- ‘m glad thats over with,” he began rocking into you slowly, eyes glued onto the sight of his dick disappearing inside you. “now i can hear all your pretty noises,”
i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very much appreciated <3
#suna x reader#suna x you#rintaro x reader#rintaro x you#suna rintarou#rintaro suna#suna smut#rintaro smut#suna rintaro smut#rintaro suna smut#suna rintaro x reader#rintaro suna x reader#suna rintaro#suna rintaro haikyuu#miya osamu#osamu miya#hq smut#haikyuu smut#hq x reader#hq x you#f!reader#smut#cy.writes#cy.writes: fics#haikyuu
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ARE YOU FLIRTING?
pairings — simon (dinner in america) x reader
warnings — swearing, simon may get a little mean idk yet, finally not an already established relationship, a little oblivious reader and a pretty blatant simon, tiny bit of projecting (just to say the reader likes riot grrl music), one mention of smoking (and a scene where they do smoke weed i’m sorry it’s a part of his character forgive me please)
summary — working at a record shop was supposed to be fun and relaxed, yet you (specifically you) have a regular customer who sometimes asks for recommendations and seems to have a staring problem.
notes — okay so hey… i watched dinner and america… this is my literal longest thing written sorry
i. the first time you met Simon
━━━━━━━ IT WAS QUIET, the silent hum of music flowing in from the vinyl player. it was connected to speakers, filling what would have been an unbearable silence, which would conjure a consistent ringing in your ears. you didn’t want that.
you were used to the dragging and seemingly endless Mondays at the record shop. most days did seem quiet, minus the days there would be some real shows of people who can’t sell physical copies and people who can’t sing. you hated it, but you loved working with music.
besides, who’d pass up being able to play whatever record they wanted through the entire store?
you wouldn’t.
flipping through a comic you grabbed from the dwindling comic section, the door rang. briefly looking up, a man walked through. he seemed pissed off, but clearly wasn’t mad at you.
you could see the top of his head at the punk rock section, and didn’t let your gaze linger. the comic - what one you chose, you didn’t seem to remember the title of - was somewhat capturing.
you didn’t like the female character, you didn’t like the male character either (you didn’t like any characters), but you had nothing better to do. if you had been in high school still, you’d probably be doing homework hunched over the front counter.
“excuse me?” you looked up, a police officer with his shiny badge was standing in front of you, and you could see the guy crouched on the floor. you’d never lied to an officer of the law, but everyone starts somewhere.
“hey; what’s up? we just got a new order of Metallica, if you’ve got somewhat good music taste.” you grinned. the officer didn’t, and your face fell again.
“i’m lookin’ for this man.” he slapped a flyer poster down, you looked at the page. Simon, whoever he was, was clearly in need of a haircut.
“so’s a haircut.” you scoffed, sliding it forwards and shaking your head, “sorry dude, no Simon’s here.” the officer glared at you and looked to a corner suddenly.
your eyes flashed to who you’d guess to be Simon, crouched behind a rack. hurriedly, you waved for him to lay flat. dropping your hair seconds before the officer saw, he gave you a hard nod and left.
opening the employees only entrance to behind the counter, it wasn’t hard to find him laying on the ground. “i’m guessing you’re Simon?” you hummed, standing over him with your arms crossed over your chest.
“who are you?” he spat. after a brief introduction, you walked away from him. sliding to the riot grrl section, your hands seemed to automatically find a Bikini Kill album. you grinned at walked back behind the counter.
you didn’t see Simon afterwards, he’d left out of the front entrance and walked somewhere. you were reading your comic again.
ii. second time meeting him, and he stays longer.
━━━━━━━ FRIDAYS, the only days that your manager opened the stage in the back of the building for live performances. typically it was packed, and you’d have to remove a few drunk teenagers and break up a few couples from having sex right then and there, but it seemed emptier than before.
you found out that quickly that you’d spoken too soon, as a flood of people came in and the back door bands used buzzed. you groaned internally - and externally - and opened the door. flashing your customer service smile, you pointed them to the back.
there was a small fluster of background noise after everyone went to the back and flooded that area.
you already missed your silence.
“hey, you the worker from Monday?” Simon, familiar in the second cluster of people, asked you when he separated from the hoard. you nodded, biting back a yawn and cracking your back when you finally stood up straight.
“not gonna go listen t’the band?” you slurred as you fought back a yawn again.
“nah, not yet. those assholes don’t know how to play.” Simon scoffed. you grinned tiredly.
“almost every band that plays here doesn’t know how to. i wish we sold alcohol here, i’d love to drink right now.” you hummed, tapping your hand against the table. “or coffee.” you muttered. the muttered phrase was meant for just you, but Simon seemed to have heard.
he didn’t say anything else, spinning around and walking to the back.
iii. meeting after rude customers
━━━━━━━ YOU DIDNT REALLY REMEMBER what day it was. but you were standing behind the same counter like before, as you did nearly every day of the week.
“excuse me?” the woman was blond, wearing high-heel stilettos and a short pink skirt and matching juicy couture top, “you sold my son this, and he is not allowed to listen to whatever soon-to-be-drug-dealer drugs you put in this music. i want a refund.” she annoyingly chewed her gum, loud nails clacking against her glasses when she went to readjust them.
“sorry ma’am, no refunds.” you huffed.
“that’s just… unacceptable! you have to give me a refund.” she exclaimed.
“dude, i literally can’t. im sorry but im not allowed to.” deadpanning her, your eyes - donning a bored look cast through her eyes - met her sunglasses. you could see your expression, uninterested and tired. she lowered them to glare at you.
“i don’t care what the hell your rules say, give me a fucking refund!” she exclaimed.
“dude can you not yell? it’s not in my hands.” you scoffed.
“give me a fucking refund!” she screamed. then the door rang (only you seemed to hear it) and you could hear a slightly familiar thudding footsteps approaching you and this woman and her awkward looking son.
“christ lady, shut the hell up and accept that you aren’t getting a damn refund.” Simon overstepped her, cutting her off and practically forcing her away from you and the counter.
you grinned small, leaning against the back counter. it didn’t take awhile for the woman to give up and walk off. her son silently followed behind her.
a silence followed afterwards, you waited for Simon to say something and you assumed he was waiting for you to say something. neither of you did for a little, and you silently cursed yourself out for not having an album spinning at the moment.
“people do that often?” Simon reached into his pocket, shuffling around in it until he produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. you cringed silently.
“nah, only when i’m super lucky.” you huffed. Simon brought a cigarette to his lips and flicked his lighter on. promptly, he lit the cigarette and took a drag from it.
“call that lucky?” he raised an eyebrow.
“ask a lot of questions?” you retaliated, exiting the front counter and finding yourself in the riot grrl section again. after you found an album, you opened it, prepared it, and put it on the record player.
with music in the background, you let another tsunami of silence flush over the two of you. it wasn’t awkward since you were more focused on unpacking a newer shipment of vinyls.
the store had recent had a flush of customers and bands playing, which helped you get a raise, but didn’t help your slight social awkwardness. you managed to cope by not hanging out with people outside of work anymore.
with your sudden interest switching to the new vinyls, you didn’t notice Simon leaving.
iv. coworkers and being hit on
━━━━━━━ AS MUCH AS IT SEEMED YOU DIDN’T, you did have coworkers. a few high school students and then a few older middle-aged guys. despite that, you didn’t really like most of them.
you liked the peace that came with single-person shifts, which were mostly what was worked, but events that had multiple bands coming up meant there’d be more than one worker.
you didn’t have to go into work until evening.
but that evening, you were displeased to see the most irritating coworker of yours by far. Chase, a middle aged man who still lived with his parents and was “voluntarily celibate”, was consistently hitting on you.
you didn’t like him, and you made it very obvious. sometimes you were so blatant you thought any child could understand you clearly. Chase was worse than a child.
not to mention, you’d grown accustomed to seeing Simon on most of your shifts, and it had been awhile since he’d shown up. you were a little worried, but you didn’t know him all that well regardless.
you still worried.
during the later half of the shift, the one that included the bands showing up and having to spend all your shift breaking up fights, sex, and so much more you never wanted to talk about anymore.
“hey,” Chase said with your name afterwards, “y’know we could go catch a drink after this.” he offered. you stared at him blankly. you clocked in 5 minutes ago.
“no.” you deadpanned, resting your already beginning-to-ache head against the cold counter. Chase was on the other side, but was still talking to you.
when the door opened, and you could hear the familiar stomping of Simon’s boots, you grinned just a little. you could hear him practically storming closer to the front, as Chase continued to blabber on and on about going out with him.
Simon called your name, and you rose your head. “cmon, i wanna talk to you.” he didn’t look at Chase, just at you. you groaned dramatically, going to slam your head down. a hand on the counter where you were gonna let your head thud against stopped it.
Simons hand led to his body, and his eyes were waiting for you to go with him.
so you did.
you had 30 minutes, and this would count for your break instead of you just taking it later on. you’d probably hate yourself for that later on, but now that you weren’t being hit on by Chase and there were no mean customers, you were happy.
“you smoke?” Simon held up a pre-rolled joint.
“no, i haven’t.” you shook your head.
“wanna try?”
“sure.”
twenty minutes later, you were lying on your back on the blanket you laid out to sit on. Simon was beside you, still sitting up. with the affects of the weed passing over you, your sudden need to have your hands on someone else sent your hands to draw shapes on Simon’s back.
he didn’t seem to notice, or care, and let you carry on.
“where have you been lately?” you asked carefully, your words softly spoken with a grin across your face and eyelids drooping to nearly being closed.
“out.” he hummed. you didn’t bring it back up, letting his words be the only explanation. “you got a boyfriend? girlfriend?” he asked. you shook your head, you didn’t have a relationship because most of your time had unfortunately been devoted to the record shop.
“do you?” you asked him right back.
“nah.” Simon mumbled.
“hey, breaks over.” Chase said, his head popped out of the door. you groaned dramatically, letting your body go lax and not moving.
Simon grinned, his head turned to look at you. every other body part was still, except for your hand - which you kept on a consistent movement drawing a star over and over again.
when he stood up, you frowned as your hand dropped. he reached down again, whisking you from the floor and helping you stand.
for the rest of the night, Simon stayed in the shop until you were done with work and about to walk home. without you noticing, he began walking with you and another joint was shared.
once you made it home, you unlocked the door and let you and Simon in. it was an apartment complex, and you led your guest alongside you to the elevators, which you used to find your apartment.
you unlocked that door too, and let Simon in and closed the door behind you both. “y’hungry?” you asked him. he shrugged, which you took as a ‘yes’, so you began making a box of mac ‘n’ cheese.
Simon took it upon himself to explore your apartment in that moment. you didn’t stop him, letting him look around and walk through every room. after some time, you called him back over and handed him the bowl of food, sitting down on the couch.
after eating, you and Simon found yourself basking in the soft glow of the moonlight on your balcony. it was calm, and there wasn’t really anything happening, seeing as it was around 12 a.m. at this point.
you could’ve fallen asleep out there, the guy you brought with you sitting separated from you by the door, a choice he made himself. you didn’t bother telling him he could come closer, if he didn’t want to sit by you originally then he didn’t have to in the end. you were fine with it.
“i’m gonna go, alright?” Simon said after an hour or so of sitting outside with nothing really happening. you nodded, weakly and tiredly waved goodbye.
he was gone after that.
v. record recommendations
━━━━━━━ YOU DIDN’T SEE SIMON FOR a few weeks after that. you didn’t expect to entirely, he was a little flaky like that, but you at least thought he could tolerate you better than dropping from the face of the earth suddenly.
you spent awhile alone at work again, standing behind the register listening to music and doing stupid stuff, it grew more and more boring.
you missed Simon’s presence. it was the one thing that differed from your typical workday which made everything a little more tolerable.
rather than rest on pondering the “what if”s of this whole situation, you’d found a rather interesting pass time. you began listening to more albums in an attempt to expand your music taste.
even that was in vain - it never worked.
after a week, you gave up the final sliver of hope and stopped wishing. you happily grew more adjusted to spending shifts without anyone with you, and it became easier and easier to go to work.
the third day after what you’d dubbed “The Acceptance” (you had nothing better to do, and were now clinging onto anything that could make it all more interesting) the door chimed and you could see the familiar face and hear the familiar stomping.
“hey, welcome in. do you need help finding anything?” if he wanted to be flaky, you could be petty and treat him like a normal customer. you held up a faux smile, throwing on your “customer ready” face.
Simon stared at you, and you patiently waited for him to do something, say something. but he didn’t. he continued to stare, which grew slightly more irritating.
you huffed internally, cussing him out in your mind while you were at it, spinning on your feet and walking to the side where boxes of new shipment lay.
pulling one up to counter, you grabbed the box cutters and opened it. a new set of the most sold album. you didn’t expect these to last awhile.
“excuse me?” a father with his son walked up to the counter closest to where you were opening boxes to restock the inventory.
you looked up, “yeah what’s up?” you set the cutters down and walked to the front counter.
“do you guys have anymore Korn albums? specifically Follow the Leader.” the father asked. you hummed, walking into the back after quickly excusing yourself. walking back out, album in hand, you were surprised to see Simon still standing there.
you gave the father and son the album, checked them out, and sent them out with a smile.
“did you need something, dude?” you finally broke the silence, back turned to Simon as you kept unpacking box after box.
you didn’t hear anything for a minute, and you prepared to say something else. “that genre you like, give me a recommendation for a band.” his voice was rough, and he sounded hesitant.
you turned around again to stare at him, sighing and complying. you gave him a Bikini Kill album (Pussy Whipped, specifically) and checked him out. as you went to say goodbye, he stomped off.
vi. admittance
━━━━━━━ THE NEXT TIME YOU SAW Simon, was a week later. you’d grown even more used to his absence, and no longer felt as bored as you originally did. you felt the same as before Simon showed up.
it’s like he never walked in.
until he did, the first day you met him and now.
“has anyone flirted with you?” he demanded as soon as he got to the counter. you stared at him in mock-awe.
“seriously, Simon? you turn into a disappearing act like you’re goddamn Houdini, but now you can walk in here and use that type of tone?” you rolled your eyes. huffing, you shook your head tiredly.
“has anyone flirted with you?” he repeated his question. your anger subsided into confusion.
“pretty sure, probably not seriously. why?” you hesitated to answer at first, genuine curiosity running through you like your own blood.
“that explains it. when are you off? or going on break?” he asked.
“i get off in an hour, and my break was like twenty minutes ago. why?” you took a step closer to the one thing stopping you from walking straight up to Simon.
he shook is head, “i’ll be back in an hour, then.” he muttered, turning around and stomping out.
the hour that you had left was dragging on suddenly, and your body practically shook with nerves and insecurity and one too many thoughts for the rest of the day.
you tried everything to get rid of it, attempting to listen to music (your thoughts were louder), attempting to read a book (the words moved when you tried focusing, like they were shaking with your nerves), and trying to work on inventory (there was nothing to unbox).
once it was over, and you were clocking out, you were surprised to see Simon driving a blue truck. he waited for you, as you hesitantly approached the car. with a single honk of his car and a mean glare, you got in quickly.
he hardly waited for you to get in before driving off. you didn’t get scared or anything, you just braced yourself and got comfortable in the plush seats.
“who’s truck is this?” you quizzed.
“my friends.” he bluntly spoke, leaving no room for any other conversation.
it didn’t really bother you, the silence was comforting and now that you were with Simon, your previous nerves and feelings had been dropped entirely.
after what seemed to be around an hour, Simon pulled onto a desolate dirt road, that switched to a untouched grassy trail. your relaxation turned into confusion. was he about to kill you? you expected you’d live a few more years, but maybe you were wrong.
he parked near a cliff, and got out. you went to follow him, but he closed your door before you could. you watched him in confusion as he circled the car and opened it for you.
you looked at him, even more confused than before. this was not like the Simon you had been talking to in the past.
“who are you and what have you done with Simon?”
“shut up and come the fuck on.” now it sounded like the Simon you knew, you grinned playfully and got out.
“are you taking me here to kill me?” you questioned carefully.
“why the hell would i do that?” he turned to you, confusion written across his face.
“no clue, not every serial killer needs a motive.” you tapped your temple after saying that, before pointing at him.
“what the fuck.” he muttered.
“you choose to bring me here!” you exclaimed.
“clearly, i made a mistake.” Simon complained, watching as you walked closer to him.
“why did you bring me here?” you finally asked, folding your arms over your chest and patiently waiting for his answer.
“isn’t it obvious?” he scoffed. you shook your head with an eyebrow raised. what was supposed to be obvious? you waited for him to continue.
“jesus christ. i fucking like you, dumbass.” he emphasized the insult at the end. you rolled your eyes before stopping. it was like everything around you practically did the same thing - stopped.
you stared at him long and hard.
“you’re lying, right?” you hesitated to break the seemingly ever-lasting silence, but what was done is done, and Simon was the one rolling his eyes.
“no, i’m not. are you really this dense?” he was getting mad now.
“well, sure.” you shrugged one shoulder, letting your arms unfold and fall to your sides. he scoffed - which seemed to be his favorite thing to do. it didn’t help how awkward you were.
sure you had been mad at him, but now, thinking back, you could feel the undertones of yearning for his care, and yearning for a relationship. you sighed, looking down to regain your confidence before looking back up.
“if it makes you less mad, i like you too.” you hummed with a sly grin.
masterlist — reminder that asks / requests is open!!
#ceciljameswork#fluff#fanfic#simon dia#simon dinner in america#dinner in america#kyle gallner#kyle gallner imagine#imagine#oneshot
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hii! do you think you could write more headcanons about loser!ellie x loser!reader ? 🐞
Loser!Ellie HCs
content warning:: modern!AU, mentions od weed
AN:: I’m sick and I sound like Jojo Siwa
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who plays dress to impress with you every single day. Spent her money on vip and custom makeup but her outfits are still shit. Also votes you 5 starts no matter what.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who always wears headphones. No matter if she’s out, if she’s cleaning your shared apartment or even in classes- she always has one airpod in.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie whose phone is filled with shitty mobile games. Like the ones that show you an ad every ten seconds and everything is locked behind a paywall.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who always tries to scare you. Jumping out from behind the corner, sending you creepy texts from private numbers or just walking up behind you and screaming.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who has an oral fixation- but not in a sexual way. She just likes to bite on stuff, bottle caps, pens, popsicle sticks. You name it she bites it.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who’s always up for a smoke. She stashes snacks and joints all around the apartment ‘just in case’. (forgets about them immediately)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who wears glasses and never cleans them.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who wants to do powerpoint dates. Not only does she love to make powerpoint presentations she also loves to ramble about whatever topic she chooses.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who begs you to wear the ‘I’m with stupid ->’ shirt all morning but then walks on the wrong side of you.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who gets silly little tik tok songs stuck in her head and hums them all day.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who meows whenever she wants your attention. Or just bumps herself into you. She’s very orange cat coded
⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who logs into all those different websites that show you your spotify charts in a pretty way. Then she’s mad whenever some hacks into her account.
this is really short but I literally cannot think straight (no pun intended)
#the last of us#ellie williams x reader#lesbian#wlw#ellie williams headcannons#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie williams#ellie williams fluff
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Can You Come Around
Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader
wc: 2629
cw: mad flirting, swearing, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, mentions of cheating, men being weird, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, teasing
a/n: set in modern times with the reader as the front woman of a new band in NYC. hope you guys like it!!
steve masterlist
“Goddamn” Eddie whispered as they all stared up at the stage.
It was Robin’s twenty-first birthday, causing everyone to meet up in New York City. Since Robin was the last of the eldest teens to turn of legal drinking age, the group decided to go on a small trip in honor of the momentous occasion.
A four day trip with four of Steve’s closest friends—what could possibly go wrong.
Originally? Nothing.
Wednesday and Thursday went off without a hitch. Seeing as her birthday was Wednesday, they spent the night bar hopping, snagging free drinks from those who were feeling generous enough to donate to their celebration, and snagging as many free desserts from as many restaurants as possible.
Then Friday night hit. Abandoning their original plan to try this bar near NYU that Nancy had been raving about, they found themselves in some other part of Greenwich, at this random bar that Eddie just had to go to.
You see, the group had run into one of Eddie’s old friends on Thursday, and he wouldn’t stop raving about this random band that only Eddie seemed to have heard about. And that’s when Eddie turned to look at the group.
“No.”
“Nancy—”
“I said no Eddie, this was the plan–”
At one point he even got on his knees and pleaded with Nancy.
She eventually caved when Eddie offered to sponsor her drinks for the rest of her trip.
Which is how they found themselves packed in the back corner of this surprising large space. It had to have spanned across two buildings since it was just this giant, underground hall that was covered in drawings, in stickers, in posters, in murals, in graffiti—dark, but not dingy, which Nancy and Robin greatly appreciated. Once the group had managed to snag a table in the back, and gotten their drinks, they all started talking to one another.
It was loud, but since there was no music playing, they could still hear one another pretty well.
That was until your band walked on stage the crowd of college kids roared.
To say that Steve was completely and utterly entranced by you was an understatement. The roaming lights around the audience would catch his eyes every now and again, but it didn’t matter if he was being blinded since he could only see you anyways.
As you greeted the audience, Eddie elbowed Steve slightly in an ‘I told you so’ manner. “You’re going to fucking love them man.”
Steve only nodded in response, watching your smile broaden with each roar of applause from the crowd.
The night went on like this, Steve being completely despondent from all conversations happening at the table, and the group making fun of his infatuation. He barely even finished the beer in his hand, only able to focus on the sound of your voice filling up every available inch of room. It was hard to not breathe you in with every single inhale he took.
As the night was winding down, the crowd only grew. But as all good things, your performance had to come to an end. Your voice rang out.
“New York!”
They roared in response to you.
“I just want to thank you all for coming out tonight to support me and my friends. At the end of the day we’re just a bunch of idiot twenty-two years old that fucking love music, and we’re so grateful you guys decided to come out and support us tonight.”
Steve heard Eddie scream over his shoulder with the rest of the crowd.
“Now, we only have one song left in our set–I know I know it’s devastating but some of us wanna get fucked up too.”
The opening chords of the song rang out and Steve swore he was going to go deaf. He had never actually felt sound before, but there was a first time for everything.
Nancy whacked Eddie’s shoulder. “I fucking love this song, why didn’t you lead with that?”
Eddie’s eyes grew wide as your voice floated over.
Can you come around? Fuck me nice.
“You know—you LIKE–this song?”
Pull my hair. Sing me lullabies.
“Eddie, we listened to it in the van on the way here..”
And we can pretend that we're in love.
Steve blocked out the rest of their conversations and zeroed in on the thrumming of his pulse as you continued to sing.
“When you come around, I’ll wear red. And I’ll forget all the awful things you’ve ever said. And we can pretend that we're in love.”
Singing has been a passion of yours from a very young age. You were in vocal lessons the second you turned four, and dance lessons by five. Your parents were certain you were going to be the next broadway triple threat. You had even picked up the guitar and piano by age seven. But by the time you hit middle school, you had become more interested in writing, in poetry. You dropped the dance lessons and picked up drum lessons instead, much to the chagrin of your father. Writing poetry turned into writing music, and suddenly you were sneaking off to go to concerts every night, finding ways to get into bars to see local singers and bands. It was exhilarating watching people pursue their passion.
You found your bandmates in your first semester at Columbia. You had been in the wrong place at the right time, finding out that one of your lab partners could also play the guitar and the bass. And then you found out she knew someone who played the drums who was looking for a few people to hangout with. Then you found out that the drummer's sister was a keyboardist who was over at NYU. And NYU’s roommate? Well she just so happened to be one of the greatest guitar players you had ever heard.
That’s when you guys started playing and writing music together.
“Until I throw a punch and you call me a cunt and that tips me over the edge. Ah, you throw my phone out the window. The next thing the neighbor says she’s calling’ the feds, and I wish you were dead. For a sec. I wish you dead. “
You couldn’t help but feel as though someone had shot electricity through your veins. Any time you stepped out on that stage, it was as if the world shifted under your feet and suddenly you could feel every single pulse of every single person in the audience.
Tonight was no exception. You had officially released two EPs with collections of songs on them over the past few years, but a few weeks ago, your band had signed with an agent, who was able to get you more gigs, better gigs. She was incredible.
Exactly a week ago, you had released your first ever single with a label. Your EPs were listened to, and you were an up-and-coming group to look out for, for sure, but you had never had a single before.
It blew up.
“But you come around. At ten pm. We watch tv. We break the bed.”
Tonight was the first time you were singing the single live, and hearing the entire audience screaming the words back to you took your breath away. You almost forgot the next words since you were so baffled at just how many people knew your songs, how many people knew the words.
And we can pretend that we're in love. We can pretend that we’re in love.”
You couldn’t help as your eyes roamed the entire audience the whole night, but during this final song, you locked eyes with someone in the back.
He had these gorgeous eyes that only showed for a brief second as the light that had roamed over him, before it moved on and he was gone again.
Your heart almost jumped into your throat and your stomach flipped. Who the fuck was this man, and how did you find him once you finished singing this song?
“Until I throw a punch and you call me a cunt and that tips me over the edge. Ah, you throw my phone out the window. The next thing the neighbor says she’s calling’ the feds, and I wish you were dead.”
This song was written over the course of twenty-seven minutes.
About four months ago, your relationship of three years had decided that you weren’t enough. And instead of ending it all proper-like, he decided to go and fuck some random girl in his ethics class.
The irony was not lost on you.
For a sec. I wish you dead. I wish you were dead.
After you had finished performing, you went backstage, congratulating your bandmates, but your mind was somewhere else. It was in the back of the venue with one of the most gorgeous men you had ever seen in your life.
At the same time, Steve Harrington was running through all of the ways he would be able to find you in this crowd. He wasn’t about to tell his friends he was running off to find you, since it was Robin’s birthday night after all, but he wasn’t about to not take the chance.
“They’re fucking amazing…” Robin slurred out a little bit, having had six shots in the past ten minutes. Wearing a “It’s my birthday” sash in a bar is all fun and games until you receive your tenth tequila shot and eighth free margarita from kind strangers.
“Alright…maybe we should…”
Steve and Eddie chuckled at the sound that emanated from Robin’s mouth. He was sure if he put in the effort, he could translate it to a negative response to Nancy’s suggestion.
“I’ll be right back Eds, while Nance and Johnny take Robin back. I know you wanted to stay out a little longer.” He muttered to Eddie before heading off, towards the hallway near the side of the venue.
Steve found a bouncer near the end of the hallway who was smoking a cigarette and nodded outside. “Do you mind if I…?”
The guy shook his head. “Knock twice to be let back in, yeah?”
Steve nodded and headed outside, reaching into his pocket to pull out a joint from the small container in his pocket.
Just as he did so, he heard a cough from beside him. “You don’t happen to have a…”
As Steve looked up, your voice trailed off. The rest of your sentence didn’t matter since you were face to face with the mystery man from the back of the room.
“Hey you’re–” Steve pointed at you before realzing how fucking dumb he must sound. But you just shrugged and nodded.
“Yeah. How’d you like the show?”
Steve held the lighter up and lit the joint that was in your hand. “Loved it.”
“Yeah?”
All you could notice was how gorgeous his eyes were again, stunned into a moment of hesitation with words since you were absolutely too mesmerized by him.
“Great fucking show.”
That and his hands. You would let those fucking hands do anything to you.
“Think so?”
Steve nodded, and bit his lip as he looked you up and down shamelessly.
You come around. Fuck me nice. Pull my hair. Sing me lullabies.
You shoved Steve up against a wall, lips against his. He tasted like weed and whatever beer he had been drinking earlier.
His hands cupped your ass as the two of you began to make out in the dimly lit alley behind the venue.
No other words needed.
Your body rolled reflexively against his, causing him to moan softly into your mouth.
“Just gonna kiss me pretty boy or…” You muttered as you kissed across his jaw, sucking and leaving marks all across his neck.
Steve took the opportunity to roll the both of you against the wall so now his body pressed yours up against it.
His hands had moved from your back to your hips, squeezing them ever so slightly as to get more of a rise out of you.
It was working.
He slipped one of his hands down the curve of your hip and to the front of your jeans, unzipping them as you moaned into his mouth. The fingers that had previously been on his neck were now twisted in his hair.
Steve’s pointer finger slid up your panties, causing your whole body to jolt at the touch of him between your thighs.
“Please…fuck…P-Please.”
His lips trailed down your cheek and towards your neck.
The feeling of his hand so close to your pussy and the fanning of his breath over your neck was enough to almost send you over the edge right then and there.
Steve knew better than to keep you waiting. Brushing aside your underwear with his thumb, he pressed a finger up into your core.
Steve’s eye’s grew darker at the feeling of how completely soaked you were, just for him.
Your hips rocked back and forth slightly, trying to get him to move, trying to get the friction.
Steve took the hint and dug his finger in further, getting up to his knuckle in pussy.
Once Steve had thouroughly fucked you with just one finger, he decided to add another. And then another, causing you to tug even more on his hair.
Steve decided right then and there, he loved the feeling of your squirming on his hand while you yanked the shit out of his hair.
“F-fuck–shit I’m…I’m so..”
Steve started rapidly curling his fingers inside of you, over and over and over again, brushing against your g-spot over and over and over again.
His other hand came up to your mouth and he slowly pushed his two middle fingers inside, causing you to slightly choke on them, and then moan.
It was muffled by the digits in your mouth, but it was the final straw that caused your orgasm to snap your body in half. Choking slightly on one hand, and your pussy convulsing on his other, you had ascended to heaven.
A man had never made you cum just by fingering you before.
In the midst of your orgasm, body spasming at Steve’s fingers contined to fuck your insides, that Steve was probably just a god—a sex god really. No man could be this handsome and fuckable, while also being phenomenal at sex.
Eventually as your body calmed down, and Steve removed his hand from your mouth, you felt his lips on yours. Your hand instantly shoved him hard against your lips, feeling the need to feel something of his skin on yours.
He slowly circled his fingers causing your body to let out another moan, sending a shiver up your spine.
After a few moments Steve pulled away, and you opened your eyes to take another look at the man standing with you. As you did so, he very gently pulled his hand out, looking you in the eyes the whole time.
You might as well had cum a second time right then and there as he slowly slipped his fingers, covered in your orgasm, into his mouth. If you thought about it too much, you were sure you basically drooled right then and there for this man.
“You…”
Steve raised his eyebrows at the fact that the woman he had just heard singing her heart out was now speechless at him.
“Me?”
“You’re coming back to my apartment.”
“Oh?”
You nodded and slid one of your hands down to zip up your jeans and fix your shirt. Not that it mattered since you looked like you had just been fucked to heaven and back in an alley.
Not even a moment later, just as Eddie was leaving the club he received a text from Steve:
Dont wait up
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve Harrington fanfiction#steve Harrington oneshot#steve harrington angst#stranger things angst#x reader#steve stranger things#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington x reader one shot#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x reader angst#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington fanfiction#Steve harrington angst#Steve Harrington angst#Steve Harrington one shot#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n#steve harrington x y/n angst
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dealer!kai drabble ౨ৎ
"He has the best shit in town, trust me... but he's a bit odd," your best friend mumbled, pulling crumpled twenty dollar bills from her pocket. "Plus, he'll let you sample his goods for free if he thinks you’re cute"
"How odd?" you asked, your eyes wandering around the suburban neighborhood. "He's off-putting like crazy, and he might seem a little creepy—"
"Then why the hell am I going in?" you interrupted, your eyes widening. "I need free weed, and he's mad at me!" she whined, leaning back into her plush seat. "What did you do?" you groaned, glancing at his house again.
"I went to another plug and he found out," she said, laughing. you rolled your eyes, letting out a breath. you don't smoke, you don't look like you smoke; you knew that you’d stand out like a sore thumb. “get bag of six pre rolls please! love you” she begged, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"Fine, only because I love you," you sighed, fixing your skirt and tank,stuffing her money in your bra. With a small huff you got out of the car. You step inside, your heart racing as the door creaks open. The girl gestures for you to follow her down a narrow hallway. The air grows thicker with the scent of cannabis, a musky aroma that wraps around you like a heavy blanket. You catch glimpses of the dimly lit space, your curiosity piqued.
She leads you to a basement filled with low light and shadows, where plants sit in the corner under neon grow lights. The girl motions for you to sit on a worn-out brown couch that looks like it has seen better days.
"He'll be out soon," she says, her voice flat, as she retreats up the stairs, leaving you alone in the hazy basement.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. The atmosphere feels charged, and the anticipation makes your skin tingle. You glance around, half-expecting someone to leap out at you. Moments later, footsteps echo down the stairs, and your heart skips as you turn to see him enter. He approached with an air of confidence, his presence filling the small space. You could feel the intensity of his gaze as he studied you, dark eyes piercing through the haze of smoke that lingered in the air. His tall frame loomed over you, and for a moment, you felt both intimidated and intrigued.
"Kai," he said with a casual smile, revealing dimples that softened his otherwise sharp features. There was a hint of mischief in his expression, but the bags under his eyes told a different story—one of sleepless nights and a lifestyle that was anything but ordinary. You gave him your name, giving him a warm smile. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he sat next to you, stretching out his long legs. He smoothed out his hoodie, took out a lighter and a pre-roll, and looked at you as he held.
"Here for this, princess?" His tone was less edgy as he started to light it. "Yeah, I heard you were the best in town." Yes, stroke his ego, you repeated in your head. Free weed is the goal. you focused on his features again; He was honestly handsome in a greasy way, with his dyed blue hair slightly grown out and stubble framing his jawline. He wore a white hoodie his toned arms showing—jesus, and you could smell hints of cologne and weed on him, mixed with sweat.
He smirked, bringing it to his lips and inhaling slowly. "How old are you?" he asked, holding it between his index and thumb. "Old enough," you replied nervously, grabbing your ID out of your purse and showing him.He let out a puff of smoke, leaning back and spreading his legs lazily. "Over 18, right? Good," he murmured as he read your ID, inhaling the joint again. You shifted around on the couch, putting your ID away and clearing your throat. "I’m here for, um, six pre-rolls."
"Who am I to deny a pretty thing like you?" he chuckled softly, clearly amused. You felt your face flush and looked away, turning your attention anywhere but him.
"First time?" he asked.
You shook your head nervously, giving him a small smile. "I smoke all the time," you lied, biting down on your glossy lips. His eyes gleamed for a moment, as if he had figured you out. He licked his lips slowly as he inhaled more. "Come here then," he said, motioning to his lap. "What?" you said, voice rising a bit, obviously taken aback.
"Don't get nervous, come here, princess," he teased, adjusting himself and holding your waist. You shifted, moving onto his lap sideways, looking at him. His mouth opened slightly as he adjusted himself under you, holding your waist and holding the joint up to your lips.
"Don't get all that lip gloss on it, baby doll," he warned, chuckling a bit. You leaned forward, wrapping your lips around it. You looked at him, inhaling slowly. First of all, it fucking burns. Your lungs are practically falling out as you struggled to hold in the cough. You looked at him as he studied you with a grin, like a cat.
"Come on, pro," he teased again.
You inhaled and kept it in for a moment, your cheeks puffed up. This time you coughed it out—actually, you hacked out your second lung, feeling your chest tighten as the herb stayed on your tongue.
"Oh—holy shit," you coughed out, turning your head away from him.
He chuckled deeply. "Let's try another way, hm?" he murmured, bringing the joint to his lips and inhaling. His hand cupped your jaw, gently pulling your face closer until your noses brushed together. His thumb tapped lightly on your bottom lip, prompting you to part your mouth. He exhaled the smoke slowly into your mouth, his breath warm against your lips, before leaning in to kiss you.
The kiss was soft at first, a gentle exploration, but it quickly deepened, the smoke a hazy connection between you. His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the sensation of his lips and the lingering taste of the joint. His other hand trailed down your spine, sending shivers through your body.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were locked on yours, a mischievous glint in them. "Better?" he asked, his voice low. You nodded, watching him grab a baggie out his pocket and hold it up to your face. "Gonna let you get a bag of these for free. Sample 'em and tell me if you like it, doll," he murmured, his head leaning back on the couch. "And come back."
this was highkey rushed ughhhrgggrrr this is him being nice
#evan peters#kai anderson#tate langdon#kyle spencer#james patrick march#american horror story#ahs cult#kai anderson x you#kai anderson drabble#kai anderson imagine#dealer!kai
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I keep thinking about just, platonic yandere Batman who forces you to be his sidekick for whatever reason (you're a troublemaker and you need discipline, you're a metahuman and need training so you don't hurt someone, you just genuinely need a family or some shit and he Thinks This Will Be Good For You, maybe he's just straight up fucking selfish and is dragging you along for his emotional benefit alone) but you constantly just make it the utmost pain in the ass experience for him in rebellion
"Alright, let's go over this again: you're cornered in the alley. You have a gunman coming towards you. Your grappling hook is broken, you don't have a weapon, and he's in arm's reach of you. What do you do?"
"Suck him off?"
"YOU DISARM HIM, GOD, STOP"
WayneCorp is a leading manufacturer in blood pressure medicine because YOU are singlehandedly fueling more research and funding into the topic with how much shit you give this man (to the delight of your troublemaker 'siblings'.) Not maliciously or like violently or anything but enough to just absolutely drive him up the wall, total "I'm not mad *leaves the room to break something*" ass behavior
Bruce is over here trying to debrief everyone for a mission talking about like how Deathstroke the notorious killer mercenary has been seen in the area and you've got your feet up on the table biting the corner of your mask "but why is he so FINE though??? Like I'm not the only one who thinks he can get it, right?" and your dear old dad is ready to hang up the cowl for the night and take a good long rest to try and forget what you just said
"You can't make those kinds of comments about Poison Ivy, she's literally a terrorist"
"Girls can have a little bit of ecoterrorism as a treat. She can be my Captain Planet Dommy Mommy. She can kill oil CEOs and i can put my face in her titties and Harley can be our weed smoking girlfriend, it's a win-win for everyone"
"Please, just stop--"
"Do you think Joker's prostate honks like a bicycle horn? Like, do you know from personal experience?"
"OK, we're going into the Bat Hyperbolic Therapy Chamber to discuss why everything you just said was not ok"
#yandere x reader#yandere batman#yandere stuff#i have so many different ideas for them though like actual seriois legitimate drafts and WIPS its not even funny lol#you get a sibling and you get a sibling and you get a sibling and EVERYONE GETS A SHINY BRAND NEW FATHER FIGUREEEE
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The Last to Know
Chibs Telford x f!reader
Part 2 of Very Soon, a continuation of the Chibs x reader origin story💕
Warnings: S M U T minors buzz off, marijuana use, mentions of alcohol, choking, slight dom/sub (but only a little), size kink, praise kink
Check out my masterlist for more Chibby content and follow #kdogreads to keep up with my self-indulgence 😉
It had been a few months since you first kissed Filip Telford and your life had flipped itself upside down in that time. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in a way that changed the way you spent every moment of your time.
Your life started dividing itself as before Chibs and after Chibs, like the damn second coming of Christ. After a 12-hour shift on your feet at St. Thomas, before Chibs, you’d go home and crash, sometimes not even making it your bed and sleeping on the couch for the night. After Chibs, though, you’d head straight over to the clubhouse, a change of clothes already there waiting for you, and a wave of energy somehow surging through your veins at the anticipation of seeing your man.
Tonight was one of those nights, fresh off an 11a to 11p shift and straight to the clubhouse. As you pulled into TM the sounds of a raging party filled your ears and you could see groups people standing around smoking, drinking, and dancing.
You made your way into the sea of leather, smiling and nodding at those who recognized you. It was Tig who greeted you first.
“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” He gave you a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek, his breath smelled of cheap whiskey and weed, but it brought a smile to your face.
“Ready to party, Tiggy,” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, and he laughed his signature goofy laugh before pointing back towards the dorms where Chibs must have been waiting for you. You leaned in to peck him back on the cheek before heading that way.
Making your way to the dorm you’d spent many nights in, you passed Clay, Piney, Bobby, Gemma and several of the other guys who gave you smiles and wolf whistles. You did a silly little spin for them and were met with cheers and encouragements to “Give it to him!” Laughs echoed through the room as you rounded the corner to find your man.
Turning the knob and entering the dimly lit room, your eyes stumbled onto Filip seated at the small desk inside rolling a joint.
“Party’s out there, handsome,” You walked over and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
“Aye, but I’ve been waitin’ for my date ‘fore I make an appearance,” He joked and kissed your hands.
“I’m sorry, baby, last minute code kept me over,” You plead with a fake pout on your face.
“Ah, lass, I couldna be mad at you if I tried,” He turned in your arms to give you a long, sweet kiss.
You hummed in response, your lips melting happily into his for a long moment before pulling away to change out of your work clothes. Filip turned back to continue rolling a second joint, lighting one up after admiring his work.
It was only once you’d stripped down to just your bra and panties that Filip stood up and stepped towards you, bringing the burning joint to your lips. You took a long drag and felt only a slight sting. Filip always brought the good stuff out for you.
He took one step further into your space, reaching over your shoulder to stub the joint out on the dresser behind you and letting his rough hands glide down your bare skin. You shivered as he gripped one of your hips tightly and drew absent-minded circles on your lower back with the other. His lips danced from a sweet kiss on your forehead, your nose, your cheek before landing on your neck. God, the things he could do to you with such little effort.
“Baby,” You whine as best as you can, trying not to get lost in his kisses, “I’m sweaty and gross. Let me shower.”
Your words did little to slow him down as his free hand worked it’s way over the curve of your ass and squeezed hard. His thick fingers close enough to your aching heat to make a gasp escape your lips.
You tried whining his name this time, still feeling self-conscious about your post-work condition.
“I,” kiss, “dinna,” kiss, “care,” kiss, “lass,” kiss.
The way he punctuated each word with a wet, sloppy kiss to your neck and chest pushed every ounce of embarrassment out of your mind. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful lips as he made his way down your body, pausing only once he landed at the very top hem of your panties. He looked up at you once more for permission. You nodded and gripped his shoulder to keep from tumbling over as he jerked the lacy fabric down your legs all the way to your feet.
Filip couldn’t hold himself back once he was face-to-face with your glistening folds. A groan tumbled out of his chest as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder and nearly dove into you. Your back hit the dresser behind you with a thud and knocked a few things down onto the ground with a crash.
Neither of you could have been pulled out of this desire-fueled trance for anything. Anything.
Filip’s skilled tongue worked it’s way through your folds and over your pulsing clit. You cried out when he flicked his hot tongue over the bundle of nerves just right and sent your thighs squeezing together.
With a grunt he yanked them apart again and slapped one thigh sharply. A warning not to do that again.
You felt the familiar pressure building deep in your belly right as Filip slid a thick finger into your weeping hole, curling it just the way you needed. It was only a few more flicks of his tongue until you fell apart. A broken string of curse words falling from your lips as the white hotness of the intense orgasm washed over you. He worked you through your high — not stopping until you a trembling mess, panting and clawing at his hair to drag his face back up to yours.
He stood up, holding tightly onto your reeling body, and met your gaze. A devilish smirk spread across his glistening lips as he reached down to grab your shaking thighs and pick you up.
Your eyes fell shut as he laid you gently onto the dark cotton sheets of his bed. You felt him pull back swiftly to pull his shirt over his head and step out of his straining jeans.
“My poor girl,” He cooed in that quiet tone you’d come to love, “Fucked dumb already, hm?”
Your eyes snapped open at his teasing and you were met with a dark look of lust in his eyes. It only spurred you on and sent a new wave of heat straight down to your core.
“Not even close, Telford,” You spat back, quickly sliding a hand between you and grasping his hard cock in a firm hold.
“Aye, ah,” You began stroking him though his boxers, a grunt escaping his lips as he tried to keep his composure, “I see not, lass.”
He leaned in close to kiss you and you took your shot, yanking Filip’s body down beside you, allowing you the room to climb on top of him and straddle his aching cock.
An amused grin spread across his face as you leaned in to leave wet kisses on his neck and chest, lewd noises spilling from his lips all the while. You slowly made your way down his body, kisses turning into love bites here and there.
He lifted his hips slightly to begin to tug his boxers off when an idea popped into your head and out of your mouth before you had the chance to second guess it.
One of your hands gripped his wrist while the other wrapped around Filip’s throat, your slender fingers doing their best to squeeze even a little bit.
“I’ll see to that, love,” You purred into his ear, an excited mumble tumbling out of his mouth. He grinned at you a moment longer, this new side of you driving him wild.
You used all your effort to give his wrist and his neck an extra squeeze, showing him you meant business.
“Yes ma’am,” He growls, his free hand coming up in surrender. You loosened your grip on him and sat up straight, his hard cock pressing deliciously into your aching core.
You reached around your back to unhook your black lacy bra and slide it off, Filip’s mouth opening at the sight your taut nipples. He reached up to take of your mesmerizing peaks into his grasp, but you smacked his hand away, not yet done with your little game.
A sharp, “uh-uh” came from your lips and Filip groaned in frustration, but slides his hands away like you said.
Using your teeth for the first few inches, you peeled his black boxers down his thighs, slowly at first. His throbbing cock sprung free, the swollen tip already leaking an inviting drop of precum. The sight made your mouth water and you decided to stop the teasing.
You yanked them the rest of the way down and discarded them on the floor with your clothes. You wasted no time licking a long stripe down Filip’s cock then taking his head between your lips.
A deep grown rumbled out of his chest as you wrapped your lips around him and took as much as you could into your mouth, your hand making up for what your throat couldn’t reach.
Before long, Filip tangled his fingers into your hair and guided your movements, his willpower no longer strong enough to keep his hands off you. Your head bobbed up and down at a leisurely pace, Filip’s cock gagging you when he pushed your head all the way down. He relaxed his grip and you released his head with a pop before licking your lips and smiling up at him.
He furrowed his brow slightly before his hand swung from your hair down to your neck, pulling you up by the throat to his face.
You whined as he took your lips in his, sucking your bottom lip out in your favorite way. You felt his swollen tip swirling around your dripping hole.
“You had your fun, kitten,” He growled into your lips, his head sliding into your center, “Now I’ll have mine.”
You gasped as he sank all the way into your tight hole, he held you there a moment before he pulled back out and slammed into you again.
Your mind spun as he plowed into you over and over, one hand on your hip lifting your tired body up, the other sliding down from your throat and straight to a hard nipple that he rolled between his fingers.
The familiar pressure built deep in your tummy as Filip held your hips firmly against his and worked your core forwards and back. The friction against your clit and the way his cock felt nudging against the deepest parts of your velvety walls drew your release closer and closer.
“So, fuck, so fuckin’ big, Filip,” You panted nonsensically, a mind-fogging pleasure taking over your senses, “Please—please, baby, don’t stop, ah!”
A slew of groans that sounded almost pained spilled from Filip’s mouth as your release flooded through your veins. You fell into his strong arms as he kept pounding into you, your core fluttering around his throbbing cock. Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head as Filip growled into your ear, prolonging your rolling pleasure.
“Tha’s it, pretty girl. Cummin’ all over my cock like a filthy whore,” His accent grew even stronger as he tried desperately to hold back his own release, still rutting his hips into yours as pleasant aftershocks coursed through your body, “My good lass, takin’ what I give ye.”
You had barely a moment to recover before Filip was flipping you over and throwing one your legs over his shoulder, sliding his aching cock back into your dripping hole.
Not yet satisfied, even with your blissed-out face contorting in over-sensitive and mind-numbing pleasure, Filip reached down to the place where your bodies connected and brushed this thumb roughly against your clit.
A sharp hiss escaped your parted lips, “F-Filip I ca-n’t, s’too much.”
“Shh, lass, jus’ one more,” He continued the bruising pace of his cock sliding in and out of you, fingers circling quickly over your throbbing clit, “Let me fuckin’ feel you one more time.”
It hit you like a fucking train out of nowhere, a muffled scream fell from your lips as the all-consuming pleasure invaded your senses. Your thighs shook against Filip’s hips as your fingers clawed at his broad chest, desperate for something to ground you.
Filip’s head fell back, his lips parted as his own release rushed through his body. Hot ropes of his cum flooded your pulsing walls as he slurred out a string of curses and praises.
“Fuckin’ love this tight fucking pussy; my good lass, fuck-fuckin’ gorgeous when ye cum on m’cock like tha’.”
Your eyes met as you both started coming down from the high. You reached for Filip’s face and pulled him down to kiss you, hissing into his mouth as he pulled out of you slowly and placed two fingers on your tired pussy, anxiously wanting to feel his seed weeping out of you.
You gasped at the contact and bucked your hips into his thick fingers. He huffed a laugh onto your connected lips and withdrew his wet fingers from you, bringing them up to your lips and pressing softly into your mouth.
Both of you laughed lowly as he rolled off of you and pulled you into his still-pounding chest. He kissed your forehead as you snuggled into his embrace.
“We’re awfully good at tha’, huh lass?” A soft laugh rumbling from his chest.
You laughed sweetly as looked up at him, “Yeah, yes we are.”
It was a brief moment of peace, wrapped up in each other’s arms and post-sex bliss before a pounding fist at the door interrupted your rest.
“Chibby! Dove! Wrap it up. Need ya’s out here,” A booming voice followed the knock. You couldn’t make out who it was but, based on the angry Gaelic phrase Filip spat back, he must have known right away.
“Boys got into it, bleedin’ all about the place,” The voice boomed back and Filip let out a groan.
The knock returned briefly before Filip was shouting back, “Christ, two minutes for me to put my cock away!”
You let out a chuckle as the the floor squeaked outside, granting you the moment you needed to put yourselves back together.
“Always something, hm?” You quipped as Filip stood and gathered his clothes before tossing you some shorts and one of his t-shirts.
“Aye, always somethin’ to shite on our day,” He groaned and brushed his fingers through his hair.
You took a moment to stretch while Filip already had his hand on the door knob, ready to handle whatever was awaiting him outside. Before he could open it, a thought popped into your mind.
“Filip?” You sat up a bit, “Am I your old lady?”
He laughed lovingly before stepping back over to your side.
“Seems yer the last to know, love,” He smiled and placed a tender kiss to your lips before turning back towards the door and heading out into the madness.
Oh boy, you are in trouble.
#kdogreads#chibs telford x reader#chibs telford#chibs imagine#chibs x reader#chibs telford smut#chibs smut#soa chibs#chibs telford fanfiction#chibs fluff#chibs telford imagine#chibs sons of anarchy#chibs#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#soa
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Liars & Bonfires 🔥
Warnings: exes, oral, unprotected outdoor sex, jealousy
“It’ll be fine. We’re all friends. There’s no picking sides.” Sarah reassured you for the hundredth time as you huddle for warmth on the log by the fire. You nod, the knot in your throat and the tightness in your lungs not going away anytime soon.
You hear dirt bikes in the distance and you know the boys are back from their beer run. It’ll mark the first time in weeks since you’ve seen your ex. Your toxic, jealous, ex who only wanted to smoke weed and fight. Or fuck.
Your cheeks heat as images of the last time together flood your mind. He’d fucked your throat so hard that night, you didn’t have a voice the next day. Warmth coats your panties and you shudder as you push away the thoughts just as the guys approach. JJ takes one look at you and nods in acknowledgment before diverting his gaze for the rest of the night after handing out beers.
The tension is thick and you know the group can feel it. The usual carefree, funny, obnoxious Pogue was sitting in silence while drinking and smoking. His eyes watched the flames in the pit while every now and then he’d chuckle at something someone said. You hated it. You felt like you were to blame for his change in behavior.
“Let’s play truth or dare!” Pope cheers, making everyone groan in unison.
“What are we fifteen?” Kie scoffs.
“It’ll be fun!” Sarah smiles.
The game starts with questions from an app and you start to tune everyone out, unable to tear your gaze away from the sulking blonde.
“Last person you had sex with?” Kie reads, making you look up when you realize she’s speaking to you. You swallow when heated blue eyes meet yours. The tension in the air makes it hard to breathe as you debate lying. Out of the corner of your eye you see Sarah and JB exchange a look of concern.
You were fairly certain JJ had already moved on. He was a flirt like that so there was no harm in lying. He’d never find out.
“Um, probably that cute Pogue Sean.” Your face heats with the lie and you hear the crunch of a beer can and boots as JJ stomps off.
“That was really shitty.” Kie says dryly, signaling the end of the game as she slumps back in her chair.
“On that note, I’m going to call it a night.” Pope jumps up to fist bump everyone and follows after JJ.
“Give me a ride?” Kie calls, jumping up to jog after him.
“I’m going to apologize.” You murmur to Sarah, her and John B watching as you wait for the sound of the dirt bike to get further away. Sarah gives you a weak smile before you pass and make your way down to the dock. That was his favorite spot. He wouldn’t go anywhere else to stew in his anger.
You stop opposite of him, keeping your distance as tension radiates off his body. Even from this distance you could smell him. That familiar JJ scent that makes your insides tighten.
“I lied. I’m sorry.” You say softly after a long pause of him not acknowledging your presence.
“I know you did.” JJ snaps, downing the last of his beer and slamming the bottle down almost hard enough to break.
“Then why are you mad?”
JJ spins around, eyes wide and angry as he advances on you. You stumble back a few steps but he’s quicker, wrapping his hand around your throat and shoving you against the wooden rails. His grip is firm but not tight enough to cut off air as he presses his firm body against yours, making your insides flood with heat and need.
“J—.”
“How would you like it if I told you I let some girl suck me off?” JJ growls, burying his face in your neck.
“We aren’t together—.”
“Or that I buried my cock in the neighbor?” Your body bristles with anger and jealousy, churning your stomach so hard your knees nearly buckle.
“Maybe I came inside someone else’s pussy.” JJ whispers, running his tongue up the side of your throat as his hands squeeze your ass hard.
“I don’t care.” You bite out, digging your nails into his chest through his shirt.
“Liar.” JJ hisses before fisting your hair and bringing you in for a punishing kiss. You whimper, opening your mouth to him and letting him claim you the way he always has. You can break up a hundred times but the fire he created in your blood never went away.
“God, I love you. You fucking know that. You think breaking up with me means you’re not mine?” JJ yanks your shorts and panties down in one go then bends you over the built in bench.
“JJ.” You moan, just as his hot tongue finds your slit, his nails biting into your hips. You grab onto the railing for support, his tongue only teasing it’s way around your clit and labia.
“Don’t ever say you’ve let someone else inside you.” He groans between your thighs, the warning clear. Suddenly his mouth is gone and his cock is ramming it’s way inside you. You moan loudly out into the marsh, his thrusts hard and fast.
“Shh, baby. Wouldn’t want our friends to think we’re back together again. We all know how weak you are for me.”
#smutwarning#outer banks smut#jj maybank smut#jj maybank fic#obx2#jj maybank imagine#rudy pankow#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x you#jj obx#outer banks x reader#blueicequeen19#outer banks fanfiction#tw unprotected sex
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stoned stoner
summary | you and ajax get high together
pairing | ajax petropolus x fem!reader
warning | marijuana use, drugs, fluff, puppy love
word count | 668
Ajax was a walking stereotype, a gorgon who was able to stone people who were always stoned, the gorgons didn’t have the named stoners because of the snakes on their head.
Sitting in his dorm, one that was a single, Ajax getting lucky this year, the two of you were laying down in the bean bag in the corner of his room. You looked over to your boyfriend, seeing him finishing up rolling before turning back to you.
You’re so pretty A.” Your eyes were droopy, your voice sultry, you knew that the weed was starting to affect your brain but you’d never lie to Ajax.
“Yeah.” He smiled, lighting the end of the blunt. Bringing his lips to the opposite side, his eyes closed, taking in a deep breath, before blowing out the smoke. “C’mere baby.”
You leaned closer to him, letting him place the blunt between your lips, watching as you took your own breath before pulling away. His face still in front of yours, as you exhaled, the smoke pushed towards his face.
Giggling softly, you leaned into him, your nose poking against his.
“You gonna kiss me or what?” He asked.
Never answering, you pressed your lips against his, tasting the mariguna on your tongue and his before pulling apart.
Just before you could say something, a knock to his door stopped the two of you. In a panic, you took the blunt with you as you hid in the bathroom hoping to hide from whoever was knocking.
Ajax on the other hand, maneuvered around his room, quickly spraying a scent that could mask the weed smell along with grabbing a mint. Finally making his way to the door, opening it just ajar to see who it was before opening it fully.
“Oh.” He sighed seeing Xavier on the other side, “Babe it’s just Xavier.”
Xavier watched you come out of the bathroom, seeing the state of you.
“Are you guys high?” He asked.
“No.” You giggled, Xavier seeing straight through your lie.
“There’s a nightshades meeting tonight, remember.” Both of you looked at each other, clearly forgetting about it.
“Great Bianca’s gonna be mad again.” Ajax whined.
“Just be there.” Xavier sighed before leaving.
The two of you tried to clean up the best you could, practically dousing yourself in perfume to mask the scent.
Walking through the academy past curfew, the two of you were usually careful and quiet, now it was like the two of you were trying to attract all the attention.
Finally making it to the Poe statue, you stared at Ajax waiting for him to let the two of you in.
“I-I don’t remember.” He furrowed his brows looking at you, “Do you?”
“No!” Finally the panic started to settle in, “Use your snakes, they probably know.”
Seeing the statue move, you saw Yoko coming out, frown prominent on their face.
“Get in, now!” They hissed, you both looked at each other trying not to face before following her in.
“Where have you two been?” Bianca questioned, “Meeting started half an hour ago.”
“We were in Ajax's room.” You said seriously.
“Don’t tell her that.” Ajax smacked your arm, “she’s gonna snitch.”
Bianca looked at the two of you confused, before turning away. Seeing her in his eyesight, Xavier mouthed to Bianca that two of you were high.
Taking in a deep breath, Bianca ignored the two of you for the rest of the meeting.
“I brought snacks.” You wiggled your eyebrows, pulling out the gummies from your jacket.
“No!” Divina exclaimed, pulling them out of your hands, “No edibles.”
“Fine.” You huffed, leaning back into Ajax’s touch. Bianca and the rest of the Nightshades ignored the two of you leaving you in your own world.
“Would you love me if I was a worm?” Ajax said seriously.
“Course.” You smiled. “Would you love me if I was a worm?”
“I don’t know.” Ajax tried not to laugh.
“Ajax!” You slapped his shoulder.
“Kidding, you know I would.”
#ajax petropolus x reader#ajax petropolus x fem!reader#ajax petropolus x girlfriend!reader#ajax petropolus#wednesday#xavier thorpe#bianca barclay#yoko tanaka
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he finds out that you vape m.m. 1610 & 42
summary: your best friend caught you smoking out your dorm window while he’s on patrol.
pairings: earth 1610! miles morales & earth 42! miles morales x gn! reader
warnings: not proofread and unedited, there will be uses of yn (idk why i put that as a warning), nicotine addiction, weeds, cussing,
earth 1610 miles morales
he will get mad at you.
miles will be giving you an hour long sermon of the cons and no pros of nicotine.
he’s mad but mile’s is just worried for your health and he’s showing it the best way that he knows; through lecturing you, like how his mom does to him.
he thinks its annoying when he’s on the receiving end but he finds it fun when he’s the one lecturing you.
will ask to try it once out of curiosity and have a high chance of developing into an occasional smoker.
he still lectures you when he catches you doing it too much or taking higher concentrations.
he tries to find you substitutes or distracts you with something else if he thinks you’re starting to develop an addiction/dependency to nic as a stress reliever.
“Y/n?”
you turned to your right and almost screamed when you saw miles at the fire escape beside your open window, “what are you doing here, morales? how did you get in there?!”
“that doesn’t matter, what is that?” miles interrogated you while he fits himself through your window sill. “where’s your roommate?”
“she’s in her other friend’s room to hangout,” you answered, discreetly hiding your vape from his view. “anyways, how’d you get out there? are you spiderman now or something?” you laughed nervously, deterring the topic from you.
“Yn, you vape?!”
“shhhhh! do you want me to get caught?”
“dios mío, yn…” miles paced from one corner of your room to another, his hand on his forehead like how an angry mother would. “do you know how bad vaping is for you? you remember that time when cigarettes were first invented and then 50 years later people are dying because of smoking? yeah, that’s about to be you in… dentro de cincuenta años!” he rambles, forgetting some words in english.
“ ay ay ay, yn…” he sighed.
“do you wanna try?”
“no, i don’t, yn.”
“it’s melon flavored,” you persuade him further, extending it towards him with a smile that you know makes him reconsider your offers even if he’s against it.
“just one hit.”
earth 42 miles morales
now this miles, while he’s still worried for you, he won’t scold you as bad as how earth 1610 miles would.
he’ll keep tabs on the concentration you’re taking, making sure that you’re not depending on it or getting too addicted to it.
he knows that someone like you who rarely lets loose might have a pretty little secret, he just didn’t expect that it would be this.
i don’t see him as someone who owns one as it can hinder his prowler business if he’s huffing too hard from the side effects but he sometimes ask for a hit.
“didn’t expect you to be the type to vape.”
you whipped your head towards your window, there sat your best friend; miles g. morales in all his glory, sat at your widow sill.
bugged eyed, you lowered your hand that was still holding the device close to your lips, as if you haven’t been caught red handed inhaling hit after hit while reviewing for the exams.
“don’t bother hiding it, muñeca. i already saw it.” getting inside your room, snatching the vape from your hands and flopping down onto your roommate’s bed.
he took as hit, “it tastes like that one probiotic drink that you always buy.” nodding to himself, he continues, “it hits harder than i thought.”
“yea, i wanted to try a higher concentration, didn’t make that much difference.”
“how much?”
“cinco,” you answered. popping the last c from the word.
“¿qué?”
#miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse#earth 42 miles morales x reader
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Can you write a fic where Cliff finds you crying and he comforta you? maybe offers you a cigarrette or a drink? Please and thank you :,3
AAAAAAHH CLIFF MY LOVEEE :,(
𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ¹⁹⁸⁵
The night air was cool as is hugged me, my tired body slumped on the porch step of the old 'Metallimansion'.
The full moon lit up the quiet neighbourhood with its soft light but I couldn't see much because of the tears blurring my vision. In the dim moonlight, everything looked hazy.
If it wasn't for the feel of the wet concrete beneath my legs and the sound of the howling dogs in the distance, I would have thought that I was dreaming.
Sighing, Ileaned back against the steps, my breath catching on the familiar scent of weed drifting through the air from inside the house.
It was Cliff's smell.
I heard the door creak open behind me, the porch squeaking as footsteps drew nearer.
I waited until he sat down next to me before turning my head to look at him. He was sitting there, his long chestnut hair falling around his calm face, his eyes tinted pink.
He wore his usual jeans and denim jacket combo.
He never seemed to change what he wore. "Hey," he said softly. His hand reached out for mine and I instantly took it.
"Hey." I smiled sadly. "I take it the day didn't go too well?" He asked, taking a small puff of his joint.
The smoke curled into the sky and disappeared, blending into the dark clouds. I shook my head.
"No, it didn't," I replied as another sob escaped my lips. Cliff handed me the joint, his eyes fixed on me, waiting for my reaction. I took it from him with trembling fingers.
My heart pounded against my ribcage as I hesitated for a moment before placing the end between my lips and taking a drag. I held it in for as long as I could then slowly released it.
Instantly, my eyes began to burn. "That really works?" I asked, looking at him in wonder. He smiled, a small glint of mischief in his eyes. "It helps," he said, his voice a low whisper.
I nodded and looked out into the night, the air cooling my burning cheeks. A tear rolled off my cheek, sliding down my chin, leaving a cold trail in its wake.
Tears dripped onto my knees and soaked into my pants. I felt them dampen my skin, I felt their sting, but all I wanted was for them to stop coming.
Nothing helped. I sighed. "You know, sometimes, I think I'm just going crazy. I don't know why this has happened to me and if I ever will get over it." I was shaking, my teeth chattering, my body trembling.
"We all go a little crazy sometimes," Cliff murmured into the night, blowing the smoke from his lungs.
Ileaned my head on his shoulder with a sniffle.
"It's okay," he whispered into my hair, gently stroking my back as I cried silently.
After a while, the sobbing subsided. "So, you're saying I'm not going mad?" I asked, pulling away from him, the exhaustion from my day hitting me like a ton of bricks. "I didn't say that," he replied softly.
"You are definitely going crazy, but it's temporary.
You'll get over it." I laughed softly. "Okay then, so this is normal," I said. He chuckled, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Something like that." He took another hit of his joint and passed it to me. "Thank you," I told him.
He shrugged and grinned. "Don't mention it," he replied, exhaling a cloud of smoke. I took another drag, feeling the familiar comfort settle within me.
When I finished it, Cliff crushed it under his shoe and stood. I followed suit and walked with him toward the house. He opened the front door and let us in.
"Do you wanna stay here with me tonight?" He asked softly, lazily walking to his room.
I was about to tell him no, that I had to be home, but then I changed my mind. I thought of the empty apartment and my couch which felt more lonely than ever.
"Yeah," I whispered. He grinned and led me down the hall, opening his door and gesturing me inside.
I stepped in, seeing his room again after so long.
Everything was where I remembered it being-his desk with a mountain of books scattered across it, his framed photos on the wall, his bass leaning against one side of his bed.
Cliff slowly moved his guitar, gesturing to his closet. "You can grab something more comfortable if you want."
I smiled, nodding my head and grabbed a shirt.
"Thanks," I muttered, tossing my clothes on top of his pile. Cliff nodded and left me alone in the bedroom, disappearing into his bathroom.
I stripped out of my tear stained clothes, slipping on his tee. I was left in the very large shirt and my underwear. Maybe it was inappropriate, but I couldn't care less, I was exhausted and just wanted Cliff to return.
I slid under the cool sheets and laid on my side, staring at his posters and photos. It wasn't long before Cliff emerged from the bathroom.
He wore nothing but a pair of sweats. His eyes were puffy and red from the weed, the same as mine. He stared at me for a moment, his gaze falling to my form.
"Nice shirt," he smiled, slipping into the small bed beside me. I gazed down at the shirt, it was a baggy black misfits tee. Just like the tattoo on his arm.
I lay my head back, shutting my eyes. Cliff reached for the blanket and covered both of us, his hand resting on my thigh. I opened my eyes again, meeting his warm gaze.
"Thank you," I whispered. "You're welcome." He watched me intently for a few moments before laying his head back on his pillow, closing his eyes.
"Can I hold you?" he asked softly. I didn't have an answer for him.
I didn't have to. Instead, I curled myself into his chest and laid my head on his heart. His arms came around me and held me tight, his warmth enveloping me.
I breathed in deeply through my nose, taking in his scent. The same spicy scent he used to wear mixed with a hint of sandalwood and the fresh smell of sweat. I smiled. It was perfect.
#mustainegf#reqs open#metallica#fanfic#request#fanfiction#smut#metallica x reader#metallica fanfiction#metallica fluff#cliff burton#cliff burton x reader#cliff burton imagines#metallica imagines#oneshot#cliff burton fluff
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My little brother Zee wanted to hang with me and my friends cuz were hot and smoke weed and he's a fucking cum hungry faggot.
He genuinely thought I didn't know what he really wanted when he said that he just liked Alessi because no one else he knew liked Mad K, or when he swore he was just staring because he thought Devonte's scars were really cool, but the runt knows by now that Genjutsu of that level doesnt work on me.
Of course I'm sex positive, I'm a slut and I love to nurture more sluts, if he wanted to get his pussy stretched pounded and filled up, if he wanted to fuck my friends, choke on cocks and piss himself in carnal ecstasy, I'm in his corner all the way.
But No One Is Sinking Into My Little Brother's Pussy Before I Do.
So I let him think hes pulled one over on me. I invited him to come camp with us, were gonna roll blunts, drop acid, barbecue and set off fireworks.
All that and the chance to get split open by one of my friends? What self respecting little brother slut could refuse?
And he didn't. Its probably the most impactful decision he's ever made.
Because when we got to camp and fell under the qualia of our intoxicants and cover of starlight and got high enough to see rythmic mandalas dancing in the shadows of our fire and he started touching Alessi's thighs I had no choice but do what i did and it irrevocably changed the direction of our relationship.
I grabbed him by his waist and picked him up and away from Alessi. Alessi's face fell from a grin to an expressionless combination of shock and curiosity. He knew what was about to happen, I'd told the both of them beforehand.
But i dont think they believed I'd really do it.
I carried him over to the tent, playfully shaming his desperation.
"You don't get embarassed, throwing yourself guys you barely know?"
"Of course you dont. Youre a testosterone pumped desperate little cuntboy faggot. All you care about is getting a fat cock in you."
"You want to bounce on dick so fucking bad dont you dirty fucking hole?"
Zee whined like a puppy when he could manage any sound at all in response.
"l'll be honest i thought you'd fold for Devonte before Alessi, but you're such a cum thirsty whore I bet you'd even fuck them both at once."
"Lucky you, youre gonna get them both."
"But first, youre gonna get something soooo much better."
I placed him on his back on the floor of the tent, he didnt let go of me.
Devonte and Alessi stayed close and watched us from just outside the tent, I wish theyd come in but i get it. They probably wanted to keep some distance from the monster who got his little brother tripping balls so he could rape him into a devoted pet cum slut.
I started peeling off Zee's clothes and watched his face twist into sick combination of shame and rapt anticipation. He was blushing redder than a strawberry and he would later confess to me that in that moment he was more afraid that I wouldnt go through with it than anything else (isnt my little brother the best?)
Once his soft pink glistening little cunt was out I was acutely reminded of the fact that I was an animal. And might as well have ripped my clothes from my body. His eyes were fixed on my cock like he'd never seen one before (turns out he hadn't, not irl anyway)
He was already soaking wet, I'd thank Alessi for rizzing him up but all four of us know he was so wet because he was boiling with the uncontrollable ecstasy of knowing he was about to get fucked by his big brother's fat throbbing cock.
I hooked my arms under his knees and pulled them spread nice and wide, the scent of his cum starved little cunny will be burned into my memory for all my time. I couldnt helo myself, I lined us up and forced the tip of my cock into him. Then more of me. Then more, and more until the tip of me was nestled neatly against his cervix, like he was made for me. Probably Because he was, what else are little siblings for?
He looked to be having a rougher time.
Digging his nails into my arms, gasping and opening his sweet little doe eyes so fucking wide and desperate. Pleading with me not to stop. He looked like he was about to cry, but in a good way.
Not that i'd have stopped if it was in a bad way.
1/?
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A/N: smut.
Warnings: smut.
***
She rested her back against the door, delicately, to nudge it to a close, reaching behind her to turn the key in the lock and listen for a ‘click’ sound. She kept her eyes glued to Matty’s chest. It was easy to get lost in the way that his tattoos, framed on either side by his loosely draped, unbuttoned shirt, glistened it with sweat. His taut muscles came in and out of focus every time that he took a drag on his cigarette. She didn’t want to disturb him. She knew he must be tired. Besides, he looked so tranquil. Zoned out, almost perfectly still, if it weren’t for his smoking. But they’ve been together long enough for her to know that, despite the deceptively calm demeanor, his mind was racing right now. Matty had a certain wind-down ritual that helped him to process the utter madness of the show and bring him back down to reality as he prepared to leave the venue behind, shed the layers that he’d wrapped and twisted around himself for the sake of the performance, and return to himself every night. Most of it occurred in silence. It made sense. Things were often loud inside his head, ears still buzzing with the cheering crowds and the music, the quiet helped to balance things out.
But what about the audience? The thing about participating in a show like that is that you don’t get to bear witness to it without it leaving its mark on you, as well. Nobody has ever walked into a live show (certainly not a 1975 show) and walked out the same person. It might be the case that he’s the one who has to fling himself head first into the madness, sing his heart out, create the energy that would sustain the entire venue for the whole night, but, if he did his job right, that usually meant that the audience would be transformed by his presence, too. And, tonight, she felt it in her bones.
She meandered over to his backpack, which sat in his makeup chair, and prepared his joint for him, delivering it to him where he sat in the leather couch, the last of his cigarette still in between his lips. She stood in the space between his wide spread knees, slowly taking the cigarette butt from his mouth. He hummed, a noise she knew him well enough to know that he intended as a ‘thank you,’ and loosened his lips, letting her handle the rest. She fished the lighter out of his limp hand and lit the joint for him. He smoked, eyes droopy, looking up at her as he accepted her help.
She ran her freshly sharpened nails through his hair, smiling down at him. “You look perfect.” She whispered as if sharing a secret only meant for his ears. “You were perfect tonight.”
The joint slowly dangled from the corner of his mouth as he smiled. “Yeah? I was, wasn’t I?”
“Did you have fun? You looked like you were having fun. I’m sure you felt how well it was all going.” This new haircut made running her hands through his hair much smoother, free of resistance. He liked that he could feel her nails scratching at his scalp.
“Mhm.” He blinked his long, pretty lashes at her. Lazily, his hand reached over and pulled the joint out of his mouth so he could speak more fully. “Great crowd. That’s always a good time.”
“Yeah. People have definitely missed you.” She mused.
“We’ve missed them.”
She giggled, a bit too much, perhaps. “Yeah, mhm. Of course.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He brought the joint back to his lips.
“It’s just….you were really feeling yourself up there, weren’t you? It’s kinda hot, actually.”
He grinned mischievously, “no idea what you’re even talking about.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I bet you don’t.” Her hands took hold of his face, leaning down to kiss him, the taste of weed on his lips. “Bet your hips do, though.” She whispered, sitting down on one of his thighs and reaching for another kiss, her hands wrapped around his neck this time. “Your hands….your shoulders…”
His eyes stared into hers with desire, “I’m completely innocent. No clue what you’re on about.” He spoke softly.
“Oh, yeah?” Her lips moved past his, down to his jawline, where she began to place a string of kisses. “Let me remind you, then.” Her lips ghosted over his skin as they slid down to his neck, kissing, licking his salty sweat, biting and sucking on his skin.
Matty’s jaw fell slack, he quickly removed the remainder of his joint from his mouth, moaning as his eyes closed.
When she was satisfied that she’d left, what would no doubt remain a visible hickey on his neck for days to come, her lips moved lower, and lower, gradually kissing down his chest, lingering at his tattoos every once in a while, grazing his nipples with her teeth until she felt his hips buck up, listening to him moan out her name desperately.
The remaining scent of his cologne mixed with smoke, sweat, and her desire for him was a heady cocktail. She needed him badly. As she kissed just under his belly button, Matty’s waist was no longer touching the couch. He whined and gasped for her. “Please- please, baby, oh- please?”
Silent, with a confident smile on her face, she unbuckled his belt, watching him relax at the slight relief of pressure that the loosened waistline of his pants had give him. She moved off of him, crouching down on the floor between his legs.
With considerable difficulty, Matty’s eyes peer open. He made a vague unintelligible noise.
“What was that, honey?” She looked up at him.
“Knees. Your knees.” He mumbled.
She chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry about that right now.”
Her hands effortlessly pulled down his pants, and then his underwear. But Matty was nothing if not stubborn. She watched him toss the end of the joint to the floor, and she instantly stepped on it to put it out while his extended arm reached for the other end of the couch, grabbing a throw pillow.
“For your knees.”
She set the pillow underneath her, the instant difference that it made to her comfort warmed her heart. “This is why you deserve what I’m about to do for you.” She whispered before wrapped her hand around the base of his hardened cock, taking him in her mouth bit by bit.
Matty moaned, his head falling backwards. “OH- my.…fuckkkk.”
She couldn’t help but smile around him. The filthy sounds she’d coaxed out of him were a huge boost to her ego. Especially after a night like tonight when he’d strained his vocals performing for thousands of people. Listening to his muted, hoarse moaning and whining was better than a thousand songs.
His stomach muscles tightened, he bit his lower lip, swallowing a scream when he felt her tongue swirl around his sensitive tip. He reached his hand forth and stroked her cheek as she hollowed out her mouth sucking on him with a mission to push him to get louder and louder.
“Fuckin Christ!” She felt his hand shake against her cheek, eventually falling away from her face as he went limp. “B-baby that’s- p- per-fect. Oh! Angel, please- ummm. W-wait. C-could I-“ though his own cries of pleasure interrupted him, the veins of his neck bulging as he strained against the couch, she knew what he was asking for, and she nodded.
“Please- want- to feel you. Need it.”
She helped pull his condom out of his pocket and watched impatiently as he fiddled with, and opened the packet.
“Ready?” She asked him, but she might as well have been asking herself. After all, this is the moment that had plagued her thoughts since he’d walked on to the stage nearly two hours ago.
He kept his hand in hers after helping her off the floor and onto his lap, squeezing his fingers around hers every time that he felt her clench around him.
“You feel s-so good.” He whispered, kissing her forehead.
The burning desire that had emboldened her so far was now too overpowering. She was seconds away from falling apart, no longer able to think of just the right thing to say to drive him crazy, she chanted his name, over and over, as she rocked her hips into his, moaning and crying out when she felt him hit just the right spot.
“Matty, I- I’m so-“
Silently, he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his strong arms tightly around her. “That feel good, my love? Do I make you feel so good?”
“Mhm….Yeah.” She nodded, reaching desperately for his face, she kissed him with a little too much force, the slight edge to her touch, tipping him over.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, honey. You close? You wanna cum for me?”
She nodded, planing her hands on the sides of his chest and thrusting into him to a persistent, unyielding rhythm. She began to moan and mumbled, but her body had already told him what her lips had failed to expressed. He knew what she meant to say. “Go on, my love, let go.”
Her release quickly brought about his own, feeling her cunt squeeze and gush around him was all he needed to bust. She felt his legs shake underneath her, his head buried in the cleavage of her chest as he moaned and repeatedly told her how much he loved her, the strong arms that held her tightly to him, loosening every so slightly as his body surrendered to pleasure.
They remained still, breathing together, their bodies resting against one another. His lips lazily kissing he skin, her fingers playing with his buzzed hair and scratching his head. A feeling that she knew relaxed him. She felt his smile spreading slowly against the skin of her chest, his lashes tickled her as his eyes closed.
“I love you.” He mumbled, sleepily. “I love you, so, so much.”
#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy one shot#matty healy fic#matty healy smut#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you
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