#GOD. I WANT TO LAY IN HER ARMS AND CUDDLE FOR 10+ HOURS.

[nowiminexileseeingyouout]

kate martin x reader

contains: fingering(reader!reciving , confession)

a/n: i have like 10 requests but i decide to write something nobody asked for?? ok anyway req still open even if i never post :(

Watching movies is the ultimate pastime. It was your favourite thing to do mainly because it was one of the few things that got your busy brain to calm down. You could get completely absorbed in another world for just a moment.

It's even better with friends because you can talk about it afterwards or even during. You didn't have to stress about anything outside of what was playing in front of you. Your favourite person to watch movies with was Kate. Kate loved it just as much as you. You could talk about movies for hours with her if you wanted to, and you wanted to. It was something you bonded over and the reason you became friends in the first place. You liked Kate; you had known her for a while now.

You might like her a little too much.

You liked the way every time she touched you it felt electric. She could give you butterflies just by talking. One time when you both were watching something together, Kate started to slowly move closer to you. You were sitting up with your legs in front of you propped up on an ottoman, and Kate moved so her head was on your shoulder and your legs were intertwined.

She just stayed there.

For the rest of the movie.

You couldn't remember what you were watching that night if your life depended on it. All you could focus on was how Kate's arm was strung behind your back and how warm she felt against you. You could feel yourself grow embarrassingly wet at the slight contact with her and you had to kick her out early. You made up some excuse about how you had to get up early. This was the first movie night you'd had since that interaction. You were nervous about not being able to control yourself in front of Kate. It wasn't fair to her; she was your friend. It wasn't her problem that you were attracted to her. You felt guilty, and if she ever found out, she might think that was the only reason you were nice to her. You hear a knock at the door that snaps you out of your thoughts. You walk to the door to greet Kate, praying you can keep it together. You open the door, and she is, standing there in her usual T-shirt and flannel pyjama pants. You both agreed a while ago to just wear pyjamas for movie night. Why did she have to look so good in pyjamas?

You manage to blurt out a "hi!"

"Hey," she replies, smiling a little at your clear excitement.

"I've got the movie all ready to go," you say as you turn to let Kate in.

"Very exciting. What did you decide for tonight?" she asks while walking past you, taking off her shoes, and making a beeline to the couch. You close the door and follow her.

"Kick-ass," you say.

You had both already seen it, but it was one of your favourites. No thinking was required, plus it was kind of funny. You sit down on the opposite end of the couch from Kate.

"Ah, good choice. I could use a brainless type of movie right about now." She immediately moves so your thighs are touching, ignoring your effort to put space between you two.

"Actually, do you mind if we lie down to watch this? I'm so exhausted I can barely see straight." Kate suggests.

That would mean either you sit on the floor or she would have to spoon you. Oh god.

"Ok, but then where would I sit?" you ask. You have no idea what answer you're hoping for.

"Just lay down in front of me. We can cuddle up; there's plenty of room."

There was indeed not plenty of room. Plenty of room would mean that every part of you wouldn't be touching Kate. Plenty of room would not mean that Kate's arm would be draped around you.

"Alright,"

you reply with a small laugh, ignoring every thought in your head right now. You stand up to allow Kate to lie on her side, putting her head on a throw pillow resting on the arm of the couch.

You grab the remote and press play before lying down in front of her. Kate drapes her arm around you and places her hand comfortably on your stomach. Eventually, she starts gently scratching your stomach, moving her hand in circles. She would move her hand slowly up just below your breasts and back down right below your belly button. Just above and below where you really wanted them. She was teasing you, and it almost felt intentional. The way the way her hand would sometimes go too high and graze your underboob or too low and barely touch the hem of your shorts.

Your breathing unintentionally starts to get heavier, and Kate notices.

"Something wrong?" She whispers.

"No, no, I'm—" She touches the hem of your shorts again, and you sharply inhale.

"I'm fine."

"Ok, whatever you say."

She replies, and you can almost hear the smugness in her voice. You're starting to think she's doing this on purpose. A few more minutes go by, and it's agony. You can't focus on anything except for the feeling of Kate's nails softly scratching your stomach. She wasn't even touching you directly, and she was driving you insane. You're not sure how much more you can take. Just when you're about to get up to go to the bathroom to try and escape her touch, Kate breaks the silence.

"I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?" You have no idea where this is going, but at least her hand has stilled for the moment.

"I like you."

"Yeah, well, I like you too; that's why I invite you over."

You let out a nervous laugh. Hoping to deflect the conversation from going where you think it's going. Kate props herself up on her elbow so she's lying above you, lightly grabs your jaw, and turns your head to face her.

"No, I like you, like, a lot."

She says, and you can tell by the way she's looking at you exactly what she means. This has to be a dream.

"I like you too, like a lot."

Kate looks like she wants to devour you. Instead, she lays back down, keeping her head slightly above yours.

"I want to try something; if you want me to stop, just tell me."

You nod eagerly, hoping it has something to do with getting rid of the ache that's been growing between your legs for an hour now.

"Words: pretty girl." Oh god, that nickname.

"Yes, yes," you say breathlessly.

"Ok, and you have to promise to keep paying attention."

Kate slowly moves her hand from your stomach, down past your belly button, and to the waistband of your shorts. She looks at you questioningly, making sure you're okay with this. You nod your head, giving her permission to continue.

She slides her hand under the waistband of your shorts, her fingers gliding over your skin. She moves her hand lower and lower until she reaches the hem of your panties. Kate looks at you again, her blue eyes dark with desire.

"You're so wet."

She whispers, her fingers lightly grazing your clit through the fabric of your panties. You let out a soft moan, your hips involuntarily bucking up towards her hand.

"Do you want me to touch you?"

She asks, her voice low and husky.

"Yes, please."

You whimper, desperately wanting more of her touch. Kate slowly slides your panties to the side, exposing your wet folds to the cool air. She runs a finger along your slit, coating it in your juices. You're so wet that it's dripping down your thighs.Kate brings her finger to her mouth, tasting you.

"Mmm, you taste so good."

She says before diving back in, this time pressing her finger inside of you. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your walls clenching around her finger. She starts to pump her finger in and out of you, slowly at first but gradually increasing her speed.

"Oh fuck, Kate."

You moan, your head falling back against the couch cushion. Kate adds a second finger, stretching you further. She curls her fingers inside of you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

"That's it, baby. Let me hear you."

Kate says, her breath hot against your ear. She starts to rub tight circles on your clit with her thumb while continuing to fuck you with her fingers. The dual stimulation is too much, and you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

"I'm going to cum."

You warn, your walls starting to flutter around Kate's fingers.

"Come for me, pretty girl. Come all over my hand."

Kate commands, her fingers and thumb moving even faster. With a few more thrusts, you're flying.Kate's fingers are relentless, pumping in and out of you at a rapid pace.

Her thumb rubs tight circles on your clit, the pressure just right to send you over the edge. Your walls clench around her fingers as your orgasm crashes over you. You cry out her name, your body shaking with the intensity of it. Kate doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're a boneless, satisfied mess.

As you come down from your high, Kate slowly removes her fingers from inside you. She brings them to her mouth, licking your juices off of them.

"You taste even better than I imagined."

She says with a satisfied grin. You're still trying to catch your breath, your chest heaving.

"Wow, that was..."

You trail off, not quite sure how to put into words what you just experienced. Kate chuckles, pulling you closer to her.

"That was just the beginning, pretty girl."

She says, her lips brushing against your ear. You shudder at the promise in her voice.You turn your head to face her, your noses barely an inch apart.

"So, does this mean we're dating now?"

You ask, a coy smile on your face.

"Only if you want to."

Kate replies, her eyes searching yours.

"I definitely want to."

You say without hesitation. And it's true, you've wanted this for so long. To be with Kate, to feel her touch, to have her as yours. Kate closes the distance between you, pressing her lips against yours in a searing kiss. You melt into her, your hands coming up to tangle in her hair. She tastes like you, like sex and desire. The kiss is deep and passionate, conveying all the pent-up feelings you both have for each other. When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless.

"I love you."

Kate whispers, her forehead resting against yours.

"I love you too."

You reply, your heart so full it feels like it might burst.

[numericalc4t]

Test stress

I’m sorry for this being so sloppy, after studying I can hardly even spell anymore😭

Baji reader chifuyu and a whole lot of fluff

You told yourself you weren’t gonna do this. You were gonna be studious and start studying weeks ago, yet here we are 11pm and a huge test the next. Papers were sprawled across your desk and you were picking some up and then putting them back down, frantically trying to cram. You hadn’t eaten dinner but honestly you were far too anxious to feel hungry anyways. He watched you with cat like eyes as you stressed. He had studied already and just wanted to sleep but here you were keeping him up. You mutter definitions and phrase to yourself over and over hoping it’ll stick in your brain. You had a notebook since you saw one time— somewhere — that it helps it stick in your brain. Your eyes were sore from looking at the same words over and over again but what else could you really do? Your cat had attempted to snuggle but unfortunately you had to push her off leading her to leave dejectedly and go sit with Baji. Your hair was a disaster from the tugging and your legs had fallen asleep a long time ago. Why do you always do this to yourself. You slammed your head down in frustration but quickly regretted it as snot began pouring from your nose. You searched for a tissue but Baji already had them on standby from the last three time. He sighed deeply but said nothing. You felt bad, I mean not only can he not sleep but you’ve been playing classical music for the last 3 hours because one again—somewhere— it said that helps with focus or something.

“Come on already haven’t you studied enough? I’ve seen you blink like 3 times in the last hour.” You would’ve snickered at that statement if you weren’t under so much stress from studying.

“I’m sorry kei but I really need to study so I can pass this.” He simply sighed again but said nothing so you returned to your studies. God why are tests even a thing? You let out a frustrated sigh and threw your head back. You were so tired and drained. 2 more hours , you thought to yourself, then I can be done. You picked your head back up and began to study some more. Your back was in agony and you wanted nothing more than you lay in your bed right now. You took a sip of your water— which used to be ice because you were only supposed to study until it melted but that plan went out the window. You continued to flip pages over and scan over many things. Then going back and carefully rereading them to ensure that you didn’t miss anything. The amount of time you’ve looked over these papers isn’t even funny. You glanced to the time to see that only 10 minutes have passed. Damn it I’m gonna be here forever.

An hour went by and Baji was fed up. He was tired, it was 12 now. He wanted to be asleep a long time ago but he can’t sleep without you. A scowl was etched onto his face, which you would normally scold saying ‘you’re gonna get wrinkles early’ . He pushed up from the bed and began to stride over to you, he reached down and snatched the pencil from your hand and threw it else where.

“Hey! Come on kei I’m not done studying yet!” Hi frown deepened and he grunted as he picked you up and placed you over his shoulder,

“You are now, it’s time for be. You need to rest your brain so that review will stay in there.” You sighed deeply knowing this was an argument you weren’t gonna win. He tossed you onto the bed and walking to in and then he plopped himself down next to you. He cuddled up close behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and buried his nose into the crook of your neck. He breathes were soothing but unlucky for him you still had to study so from under your pillow you pulled a notebook which had stuff written down in it from months ago and you began to study that.

You got about 5 minutes in before he snatched it and threw it across the room. He bit down on you should harshly and when he let go he shot you a glare.

“ it’s time for bed. Now.” He flipped you so you were facing him and forced your head into his chest. His soft breaths and soothing heartbeat quickly began to lull you to sleep and soon the test was the last thing on your mind.

Your alarm was blaring in you ears and you groaned in response. You shut it off s you got up and went to the dresser for clothes, after that you went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. When you finished in 5here Baji went in as you went downstairs where his mom had breakfast prepared.

“I know you guys have that big test today so I wanted to make sure you had plenty to eat before hand.” You smiled brightly as you thanked her. You sat down to eat and quickly dug in, the food stood no chance. By the time Baji came down stairs you had finished your meal and were heading to get your book bag. Once you grabbed Baji and yourself began off to school. Upon arriving at the front gates your nerves were so bad. You could hardly even stand as you follow Baji into the building. Everyone around was just as tense as yourself except for Baji, he had great confidence (as always). You just hoped he passes. At the door you tow said your goodbyes and went to your separate testing rooms.

The scores were finally posted and you were rushing to see what you got, too anxious to wait any longer. You scanned the sheets until you found your name and the number next to it , 90. You passed! A deep sigh of relief exited your body but was interrupted by a loud wail. It belonged to none other than chifuyu matsuno, you checked his name to see he got a 36. A small snicked exited you mouth and Baji was full on cackling at him. Baji had passed with a 65 but hey, who are you to judge? After a minute of chifuyu wailing Baji dragged him outside and I followed suit.

“Guys can we just go home? I want nothing more than to relax.”

“That sounds like heaven to me” chifuyu was the first to respond to me but that was expected.

“Kei you have to come with because we can’t trust that you won’t set something on fire.” He simply groaned at the statement but followed as we began walking to our houses. When we arrived, keisukes mom was there to greet us with ice pops to cool down. We thanked her and then headed up to keis room to play games and talk. Chifuyu wound up going home at dinner time leaving just me and keisuke to hangout. For a while we played games until a heated game of Mario cart ruined that. We climbed into bed since it was night time now and snuggled into each others embrace, the stress from the test long gone now. The only thing on our minds was each other. We slowly drifted off to sleep in the embrace of one another and in our bliss.

[marifilue]

Part 10: What Remained Of Us

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader - Slow burn, no use of y/n.

Warnings: Violence, Angst, Mature content

Word count: 24.8k

A/N: This turned out to be longer than I intended because I really wanted to give these two a proper goodbye. Apologies for taking more time than usual, and thank you for reading this final part. I've written 92k words which is roughly 300 pages for this fic series, so enjoy! :D

What Makes Us Human Completed

<- Part 9

Einstein was right about his theory of relativity, not that you were the biggest fan of physics class back then, but sure, you caught a thing or two. The past three weeks had felt like the longest you’d ever experienced. Since that collar was... Wow, you can't believe you could say it in a past tense now. Since that collar was restraining your ability, three weeks had felt like a three goddamn shitty years.

You didn’t even feel that way when you were nothing more than a servant to the military. Back then, the concept of time blurred as you grew strangely fond of your well, forced mutation. As much as you despised the idea, you’d made peace with yourself, the ability is cool as fuck. You’ve had it for twenty eight years now yes, you counted. Twenty eight years is longer than the age you received those injections: twenty seven.

Back to that theory of relativity, one you could actually apply right now, in your daily life. You swore the clock was lying when you glanced at the table to check the time, how many hours had you spent with Logan on this bed? The two of you had agreed to clean up together after this mess—the one both of you, but particularly him, had made. Yet, you kept saying, “Five more minutes,” as you lay there, cuddled in his arms, skin to skin.

Both of your naked bodies were tucked under the warmth of the blanket. His left arm served as your human pillow, while his right hand roamed over your body, tracing circles with his fingers. Your right hand never left the toned muscles of his abs. You’d had your intrusive thoughts about licking them earlier—which he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, judging by his expression, he enjoyed it. That look on his face would never leave your mind, and it made you smiled to imagined it again, as your fingers trailed down his happy trail. Only after that blissful moment, which felt like heaven on earth, did you finally glance at the clock. It was already dark outside, but seriously—eight p.m.?

"Shit, it’s eight." Your head whipped from the clock back to Logan.

He let out a weak chuckle. "Still wanna shower?"

You shrugged, letting your palm glide over the popped veins on his bicep. Good god, he really was a sight. For a guy who’d been around since forever, he definitely hadn’t wasted a second of it achieving this every man's dream physique.

Before you could answer, not wanting to pass the chance to shower with his Greek marble statue-like figure, a muffled knock echoes from the hall. The sound is faint, making it clear it didn’t come from your room’s door, you assume it’s Logan’s room, across from yours.

You glance toward your door, pulling the blanket higher over the two of you. “Looks like you’ve got company.”

Logan continues to squeeze your waist gently, as if he could reassure you. “Probably Marie. Kid can’t breathe five minutes without seein' me.”

You let out a low chuckle, knowing that despite the joke, the two of them have grown attached to each other. You can’t help but think Marie might have a little crush on him, but you don’t really see that as a problem. She’s a teenage girl, and Logan found her during a hard time, like a savior kinda way. It’s a pretty reasonable feeling for her to have.

Still, you can see Logan loves her like she’s one of his own, like a daughter. Damn, he’d make a great father, you think to yourself.

But then, a voice pulled you out of your thoughts about Logan—a voice you’d become all too familiar with.

"Logan? I’m coming in." Ororo voice faint.

The steps faltered as the door handle jiggled, only to stop short. You glanced up at Logan, sharing a silent, mutual hope. This was kind of a fucked-up situation. Shit.

Thank god you’d insisted Logan lock the door.

"That’s new," Logan muttered, more to himself than to you.

You clutched him tighter, shrinking into his warmth as if trying to make yourself as small as possible. Other thoughts began creeping into your mind now, like how the team would react to this. You and Logan? Nobody could’ve seen this coming.

The two of you didn’t say a word—not that it felt awkward. In fact, it was comfortable, really. Such a safe feeling, one you hadn’t realized you’d been longing for all this time.

Then the silence broke with the one thing you dreaded most at that moment: a knock. And it wasn’t just any knock—it was on your door now.

Shit, shit, shit.

You straightened up immediately, your body tensing as if facing an active threat. Ororo called your name, her voice loud and clear.

Instinctively, you whispered to Logan, "Go! To the bathroom, now." He half-frowned in response, clearly taken aback by the sudden secret-affair role he didn’t remember signing up for.

"Why?" he asked, with the audacity to question you in this situation. You shot him a look.

"It’s Ororo!" you whispered harshly, your tone low but not lacking bite. "The door opens straight this way—she’s gonna see you. C’mon, chop chop, mutton chops." You chuckled softly at your own words. God, you hadn’t called him that in what felt like ages.

Another knock came, firmer this time, followed by Ororo’s voice, clearer and more insistent. "I can hear you in there. Open the door."

You didn’t miss the way he rolled his eyes, accompanied by that signature grunt of his. Was he really going to risk everything by staying in your bed for Ororo to see? Dear god, you had a reputation to uphold here.

When he didn’t move fast enough, you gave his body a shove, forcing him to get up. Standing, you pointed firmly toward the bathroom. He picks up his clothes and walked as if it was the heaviest task in the world, each step deliberate and slow.

Meanwhile, you scrambled to pick up your panties from the end of the bed and your shirt from the floor, throwing them on to look at least somewhat appropriate. Pacing toward the door, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever came next.

Now standing in front of your door, you glanced back at Logan—he hadn’t even reached the bathroom yet. "Close the door, c’mon, faster!" you whispered urgently, not even sure if he’d hear you. Finally, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Your focus shifted back to the door. With a sigh, you unlocked it and opened it halfway.

Ororo’s expression immediately shifted from irritated to slightly shocked. She lets out a small gasps, her jaw dropping before she quickly covered it with her palm.

You raised your eyebrows, smiling awkwardly. "Ro?" you asked, clearly puzzled by her sudden reaction.

She scoffed, then broke into the widest smile you’d ever seen. "The collar!"

The realization hit you as your hand instinctively went to your neck, your fingers brushing against bare skin. It was a feeling you hadn’t taken the time to savor, too busy savoring Logan earlier.

"Yeah, Hank figured it out," you said softly, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

Ororo stepped forward, her joy radiating as she wrapped her arms around your neck. Dear god, you hoped she wouldn’t mind the sweat on you, or the lingering smell. You returned the hug, wrapping your arms around her back.

As she briefly opened her eyes, her gaze landed on the mess of your bed. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, but she said nothing. It definitely wasn’t her business—but judging by the faint shift in her expression, she could’ve guessed.

She pulled back, flashing another wide smile, her shining teeth on full display. "I thought Hank was messing with me," she said, her hands lingering on your shoulders before letting go completely.

"He did a really great job. I couldn’t be more thankful," you replied, smiling.

Ororo’s gaze softened briefly before she glanced around the room. "Where’s Logan, by the way?"

Panic hit you like a freight train, and without thinking, you blurted, "I haven’t seen him all day."

The lie spilled out so suddenly that it caught even you off guard. Ororo furrowed her brows, her head tilting slightly. "That’s strange. Hank told me he gave the chip to Logan to unlock your collar," she explained, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

You clicked your tongue, realizing you’d been caught red-handed. "Right, of course," you stammered, quickly pointing a finger at Ororo. "Sorry, I just woke up. He did bring the chip to unlock the collar, but then he left."

You were doubling down now, lying even more. Ororo’s expression tightened—she wasn’t buying it.

"Alright then," she said, clearly unconvinced but choosing not to press further. "Anyway, the Professor left for another conference. Scott thought it’d be great for us to hang out—just at the bar down the street. I’m heading there with Jean and Hank. You wanna come? We can ask Logan to look after the kids. It’s Friday night, after all."

Your response came a little too cheerful, the faux excitement evident even to yourself. "That would be great!" you chirped.

"I know, right? We'll just have to find Logan first" she said, her tone bright.

You chuckled nervously. "But I can’t," you said, shaking your head.

Ororo blinked, taken aback. "Why? Come on, you deserve it."

You nodded with a soft smile. "Yeah, don't worry about me you guys have fun. I’ll stay and look after the kids. Besides, Logan’s nowhere to be found, and I’m just feelin a bit tired, s’all." You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, hoping to ease her concern.

Though your excuse was flimsy, Ororo relented with a sigh. "Fine, but I’ll bring you something, don’t worry."

You smiled again, leaning slightly toward the door, hoping she’d leave soon. "I’m counting on it," you said with a light chuckle.

As Ororo turned back and disappeared down the hallway toward the stairs, you finally closed the door and leaned against it.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you glanced at the bathroom door. You’d just hidden Logan—from Ororo—in your room.

You walked toward the bathroom door, reaching for the handle. When you pressed it, it didn’t click open—Logan had locked it from the inside.

"Logan?" you called, but there was no answer.

"They’re going out to the bar. You can join them if you want to," you said, raising your voice slightly toward the door. What the hell was he doing in there? You knocked again, this time with a little more force, guessing he hadn’t heard you the first time—but that didn’t seem possible.

"Logan? Open the door," you said, your tone firmer now.

Inside the small bathroom, Logan was already pulling on the jeans he’d picked up from the floor earlier. His shirt rested by the sink, forgotten for the moment as he stared at his own reflection—specifically, his eyes. What the hell was going on with him?

It wasn’t exactly the first time a woman had hidden him. Hell, once, he’d even been stashed in a wardrobe. He had a reputation for getting involved with women already in relationships. He’d even eyed Jean a few times when he first settled into the mansion.

But it had always been just a stupid fling to him—something meaningless. He didn’t care. He never did. At least, not until now. What had changed?

You?

Seriously?

He frowned, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake the thought loose. He felt embarrassed.

You weren’t even in a relationship—there was supposedly no reason for you to hide him. At least, not in his logic. Why’d you have to hide him like that? Were you embarrassed?

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. You were both adults, and so was Ororo. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of... right? Still, the knot in his chest refused to loosen.

Then a thought hit him, one so obvious it almost made him feel stupid for not realizing it sooner. He didn’t actually know if you were in a relationship or not.

The realization stopped him cold. He’d never asked. You’d never mentioned anything. For all he knew, there could be someone else in your life.

The idea gnawed at him, an unexpected twist of jealousy and unease stirring in his gut. Should he ask? Right now, while you were still outside the door knocking and calling his name?

Hell yes, he should. At least then, he’d know.

But then again, did he really want to hear the answer? What if it was something he didn’t want to deal with? What if it changed everything?

He let out a frustrated grunt, running a hand through his hair. His reflection in the mirror stared back, eyes conflicted and filled with questions he didn’t have answers to.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. His attention shifted when something on the floor caught his eye.

A delicate gold necklace with a red heart-shaped pendant lay near his feet, gleaming faintly in the light. His brow furrowed as he crouched to pick it up, holding it carefully between his fingers. For a moment, he studied it, his thumb brushing over the smooth surface of the pendant.

The knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Without a second glance, Logan slid the necklace into the pocket of his jeans and turned toward the door.

"Logan?" you called again, your voice edged with concern. "What are you doing?"

He ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply before finally making a move toward the door.

The door suddenly creaked open, and there he was, standing in the doorway, shirtless displaying full muscles, jeans hanging low on his hips. Logan’s expression was unreadable, though the faint furrow of his brow hinted at something simmering beneath the surface.

His eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made you freeze mid-knock, your hand still hovering in the air. You opened your mouth to ask what was going on, but he beat you to it.

“You seein' someone?” he asked, his tone gruff, low, and uncharacteristically direct.

The question knocked the air right out of you. For a moment, you just stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said—and why the hell he was asking.

“What?” you managed, blinking.

“You heard me.” His eyes searched yours, his jaw set tight. “You got someone in your life or not?”

It wasn’t the question itself that unsettled you, honestly? A reasonable one to ask someone you just had sex with, well. But it was the way he asked it. His voice carried something raw, like he wasn’t just casually curious. Like the answer mattered to him in a way that didn’t quite make sense.

Your lips parted to respond, but no words came out. Instead, you studied his face, the lines around his mouth, the tension in his shoulders. Something had clearly gotten to him, but the reasons behind it were a mystery you couldn’t crack. Was this about Ororo catching him here? Or… was it about something else entirely?

“I don’t… I don’t have anyone,” you finally said, your voice slower, more deliberate. “Why suddenly ask?”

He didn’t flinch, but the shift in his posture was subtle. He leaned against the doorframe, one arm braced against it, his knuckles white. His eyes narrowed slightly, though not in anger.

“I don’t get it,” he said, his tone clipped. “You hid me in here. Why?”

Your heart skipped a beat. The way he phrased it, the accusation buried in his words, made your stomach twist. “I didn’t want Ororo to see you because I didn’t feel like explaining. S'all.”

“Explaining what?” he shot back, his voice sharper now.

“That you were in my room!” you snapped, frustration spilling over. “Do you have any idea how that would’ve looked?”

“And why do you care if it would look like anything?” he asked, stepping closer. “Why do you care so damn much what she thinks?”

You took a step back, suddenly feeling cornered even though he hadn’t raised his voice. His presence was overwhelming, and his words, his questions—they all felt like a trap you hadn’t prepared for.

“I don’t know,” you said, throwing up your hands. “I just didn’t want her to think… I don’t know! That we’re… involved or something. God, this is ridiculous. What is wrong with you?”

His jaw tightened, his eyes dark and stormy as they bore into yours. For a moment, you thought he might actually say something real, something honest. But instead, he straightened up, stepping back toward the bathroom.

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still laced with tension. “Forget I asked.”

“Forget you—Logan, what the hell?” you demanded, but he was already turning away.

“Drop it,” he said firmly, grabbing his shirt from the sink and pulling it over his head in one swift motion.

You stood there, stunned, as he brushed past you and headed toward the door. You should’ve let him go. You should’ve let it slide. But something about the way he asked—that vulnerability buried beneath all the bravado—stuck with you.

“Logan,” you called, your voice softer now, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t even turn around.

The door slammed shut behind Logan, the sound echoing in the quiet room and leaving you rooted to the spot, staring at the space he’d just occupied. Your heart pounded in your chest, not from fear or shock, but from sheer frustration.

What the fuck was that?

You try to make sense of the whirlwind that had just stormed through your room. He had the audacity to grill you about your personal life, and then shut down without so much as an explanation? It was infuriating. But then again, wasn’t that just Logan? Always halfway out the door before you could get a real answer, always keeping people at arm’s length.

Fine. Let him brood. You weren’t going to waste your energy trying to figure him out.

The clock on your nightstand read 8:12 PM. Scott, Ororo, Jean, and Hank had definitely left for the bar, excited for a rare night out. You’ve waved Ororo off, claiming you weren’t in the mood. Now, standing alone in your room, you regretted it. At least at the bar, you’d have a distraction.

Instead, you were here, stewing over Logan.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself to move. Stressing around mulling over his cryptic nonsense wasn’t going to get you anywhere. You grabbed a fresh change of clothes and headed for the bathroom, letting the sound of running water drown out your thoughts. By the time you’d finished cleaning up and pulling yourself together, it was close to nine.

You sit down on the edge of the windowsill, propping one foot up as you tighten the final knot of your shoelace. The moonlight filters through the glass, casting shady patterns on the floor. As you lean back slightly, adjusting the fit of your shoe, your gaze falls on the unlocked collar resting nearby.

For a moment, you just stare at it, the light glinting off its cold, unyielding surface. A wave of melancholy washes over you, pulling you into a haze of memories you’d rather forget. Slowly, you reach out and trace your fingertips along the thick metal, its weight almost tangible even without wearing it.

A short, bitter chuckle escapes your lips, breaking the silence. Without warning, you grab the collar and slam it against the concrete edge of the windowsill. The sharp clang echoes through the room, and with enough force, the metal bends slightly. You strike it again and again, as if each blow might break more than just steel.

When the anger subsides, you toss the collar onto the floor, standing over it for a moment. Then, with a final stomp, you turn away, leaving it behind as you step out the door.

You wandered the halls of the mansion, your footsteps light on the wooden floors. Few of the kids were settled for the night, and the usual buzz of activity had quieted down. As you passed the TV room, you caught sight of Logan sitting on the couch, surrounded by a few of the younger kids.

They were watching some old action movie, the screen’s glow casting sharp shadows across Logan’s face. He looked calm, almost relaxed, the gruff tension from earlier smoothed over like it had never existed. He didn’t even glance your way until you moved to leave, your quiet presence catching his attention at the last second.

His eyes was on you as you turned and walked away and you didn’t stop.

Instead, you headed to the library. The heavy wooden doors creaked slightly as you pushed them open, the familiar scent of books and aged paper washing over you. The quiet here was different—soothing, intentional. You let out a long breath as you stepped inside, your tension easing slightly as the door clicked shut behind you.

Finding your usual corner, you pulled a book from the shelf and settled into one of the chairs. You let the silence wrap around you, doing your best to push Logan—and all the tangled emotions he seemed to stir—out of your mind.

As you turned the pages of your chosen book tonight, seated in the most comfortable chair the library had to offer, a loud commotion broke your concentration. The rhythmic patter of children’s hurried footsteps echoed through the halls, accompanied by frantic voices. Your immersion in the world of Wuthering Heights shattered, pulling you back into reality. It was nearly ten o’clock—far past curfew. What on earth was going on?

Curiosity pricked at you, and with a reluctant sigh, you closed the book, setting it carefully on the side table. Rising from your chair, you walked toward the source of the noise.

Outside the library, the chaos unfolded before your eyes. A crowd of panicked children filled the hallway, their anxiety palpable. The swarm of them seemed to converge at the backyard door, spilling out onto the cobblestone path illuminated by faint outdoor lights. From afar, you caught sight of Logan kneeling infront of a boy.

“Back to your rooms, everyone,” you called out, your voice firm but calm. Some of the older teenagers lingered, their curiosity outweighing their obedience. Turning to one of them, you asked, “What happened?”

“I heard there’s a student missing,” a teenage girl replied, her voice trembling.

Your brow furrowed at her words. Missing? Anxiety crept into your chest as you shifted your gaze back to Logan, still kneeling in the yard. Urging the gawking children to disperse, you repeated, “Come on, everyone, back to your rooms. Curfew’s long past.”

As the reluctant crowd thinned, you made your way outside, stepping onto the cool cobblestone steps. Logan’s voice carried through the crisp night air as he spoke to the young boy.

“Listen, Carter, I need you to tell me anything you saw. Did you see a logo? A picture? Maybe a name?”

The small frame of the boy trembling however he chimed in, “I saw a letter. It was on their phone.”

You stepped closer, careful not to interrupt, though Logan briefly glanced over his shoulder, his eyes locking with yours for just a moment before returning to the boy.

“Phone?” he repeated.

“Yeah, it was black and had... like, a long antenna,” the boy explained innocently.

“A handy talk,” Logan muttered, lowering his head slightly as if trying to piece it together. “What letter did you see?” he asked, shifting his attention back to the boy.

“Sac, I can read,” he replied with the same innocent tone.

Logan frowned, a slight furrow in his brow as he repeated the word back to her, confused. “Sak?”

The boy nodded eagerly, as if confirming his guess. “Yeah, Sac.”

Logan shook his head, his confusion growing. “How do you spell it?”

Before the boy could respond, something clicked in your brain. The pieces fell into place, and you couldn’t stop yourself from stepping in.

“S-A-C,” you said, spelling it out clearly, each letter cutting through the tension.

The little boy's eyes lit up as he pointed his small finger at you. “That’s right!” he said brightly.

Logan’s expression darkened, the weight of the realization settling over him. He glanced back at you, his jaw tightening.

“SAC, Special Activities Center,” he repeated, this time with understanding—and dread.

The word hit you like a cold slap. You folded your arms against the chill, the night air biting through your sweater.

“Thanks, Carter. You head back inside now.” Logan stand on his feet as he pat the child gently, sending him towards the mansion's backdoor.

Once he scurried off, you stepped closer to him, your voice low but urgent. “What's going on?”

Logan rose to his feet, brushing his hands on his jeans. “That's Carter he's Maya and Ellie friends.”

Your stomach dropped. “Maya? Where’s Maya?”

Logan hesitated, taking a deep breath. “The three of them were playing hide-and-seek out here earlier. Maya wandered out here to find them... she finds Ellie first, then Carter saw two people in black clothes take them two.”

“SAC take them?” you repeated, the weight of the revelation sinking in. “They're connected with the CIA. The fuck do they want?”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know. But if they’re involved, this isn’t just about them mutants children—it’s about all of us. They’re watching, and now they’re making their move.”

You didn’t respond immediately, your thoughts racing as dread settled heavily over you both. The children inside weren’t safe, not anymore. The larger force at play had finally made its presence known, and the mansion, once a sanctuary, had turned into a trap.

“Shit” you said finally, meeting Logan’s grim gaze. “We need to find them.”

His nod was slight, but the determination in his expression was unmistakable. “We will.”

The team gathered in the common room for a late midnight meeting no one would expected, their exhaustion palpable. Scott slumped in his chair, the scent of alcohol faint but unmistakable, while Ororo leaned heavily against the armrest, her eyes half-lidded with fatigue. Jean sat cross-legged, her fingers massaging her temples, and Hank rubbed his eyes behind his glasses.

The situation frustrated you as bad as it already was. Fuck this. If it weren’t for the team’s fun night out, all of you would be out there looking for the poor little girls. You thought about doing it alone—after all, you were the only adult who wasn’t drunk or exhausted. Wait... there’s still Logan.

Fuck him. You're not going anywhere with him. The two of you still hadn’t addressed whatever the hell was going on between you.

If you waited until morning, they’d sure as hell be hungover or nowhere near the appropriate condition for a mission like this. And knowing these people all too damn well, they wouldn’t let you sneak into a CIA headquarters alone.

But you’d do it anyway.

You’d have to sneak your way out of this. Screw them. They’d be thankful as fuck when you took matters into your own hands.

“We have to address this in the morning,” Jean said, her voice steady but weary. “The professor will know the best approach.”

Of course, one of them would eventually say it. You had guessed it would be Scott, but maybe Jean read his mind first—like she’s probably doing to you right now. Fuck, I should clear my mind, you thought to yourself.

Hank sighed, his fingers tapping the edge of the table. “I’ve done some preliminary research, but it’s just theories right now. The CIA base we suspect isn’t far from here, and given Killebrew’s ties to the military, this might all be connected. If I’m right, they’ve been operating covertly, experimenting on mutants in ways we haven’t fully grasped yet.”

Ororo straightened, her brow furrowed. “That’s not something we can charge into without a solid plan. It’s dangerous.”

Scott waved a hand, his tone slurred but determined. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow. Right now, we all need rest.”

Jean nodded, glancing around the room. “Agreed. Maya and Ellie will need us at our best when we go after her.”

One by one, the team dispersed, their heavy steps echoing down the mansion’s halls. But you couldn’t shake the weight in your chest. The image of those girls—scared, alone, possibly suffering—played on a loop in your mind. By two in the morning, sleep had become impossible as you kept staring at the ceilings with eyes wide open, contemplating your plan which you came with none.

"Fuck this." You quickly changed into black cargo pants and a tight black long-sleeve shirt that pressed against your figure.

As you stood by the sink, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to steady your nerves for what was to come. But when you reached for the towel, your eyes flicked to the small accessory holder where you usually kept your mother's necklace.

It wasn’t there.

A knot of anxiety tightened in your chest. You leaned closer, scanning the sink area. It had to be somewhere nearby. Maybe it had just fallen off? You crouched down, searching the floor around the sink, your fingers brushing across the tiles in frantic movements. Nothing.

“Come on,” you muttered under your breath, your heart pounding as you pulled open the cabinet doors beneath the sink. Still nothing.

You swallowed hard, the realization sinking in that you might have lost or misplaced it. The thought made your stomach churn—it wasn’t just any necklace; it was your mother’s.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Maya and Ellie needed you, and every second you spent searching was a second wasted. Clenching your fists, you forced yourself to push the worry aside.

You turned back to the mirror, taking a final glance at yourself. Tight black long-sleeve shirt, black cargo pants. "I look like a goddamn ninja," you muttered, trying to inject a bit of humor to steady your nerves.

The necklace would have to wait. Right now, you had to focus.

You grabbed your gear quietly, careful not to wake anyone. The mansion was still, the night cold against your skin as you descended the stairs with heavy black boots. You had just reached the kitchen when you froze.

Logan stood by the counter, cigarette in hand, the faint glow of its tip casting shadows on his rugged features. He didn’t look surprised to see you.

“Figured you’d try somethin’ stupid,” he said, his voice a gravelly rumble.

You adjusted the strap on your gear, feigning nonchalance. “I need to get some air.”

Logan chuckled dryly, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Air. Right. All geared up for a midnight stroll?” You frowned but didn’t reply, moving to the sink to double-check your supplies.

“You think sneakin’ out alone is a smart play?” he pressed, stepping closer. “What, you gonna take on the CIA single-handed?”

“I'll take my chances, better than doing nothing.” you snapped, spinning around to face him. “They're out there, and every second we waste, they could be hurting.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “And every second you’re out there without backup, you’re walkin’ straight into their hands. You heard what Hank said—Killebrew’s probably involved. You really think they won’t have another collar?”

You hesitated but clenched your fists. “I won't let such fear stop me. I won’t leave Maya and Ellie to them, Logan. I don’t care what’s waiting for me out there. It’s not like they can kill me.”

Logan’s jaw tightened as he stubbed out his cigarette in his palm. You could never get tired from the sight of him rolling his eyes at the slight burn sensation on his skin that amused you—well, more than amused in different circumstances, really.

If only he hadn’t been so confusing earlier tonight.

His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “It ain’t about killin’ you. It’s about breaking you. They don’t need you dead—they just need you broken enough to get what they want.”

The weight of his words pressed down on you, but the image of the girls wouldn’t let you relent. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working. I’m leaving.”

Logan’s nostrils flared, and for a moment, you thought he’d let you go. But then he stepped back, grabbing his jacket. “You’re a stubborn pain in the ass, you know that?” You blinked as he shrugged into his jacket.

“If you’re hellbent on gettin’ yourself killed, I’m not lettin’ you go alone,” he growled.

Despite the tension, a flicker of gratitude warmed your chest. He might be impossible, but at least you wouldn’t face this alone.

Logan gripped the steering wheel tighter as the car cruised down the empty highway, the hum of the engine the only sound between you. You stared out the passenger window, the dark road illuminated by the occasional passing streetlight. The silence was unbearable, heavy with unspoken tension, until you reached out and turned on the radio.

Bye Bye Bye blasted through the speakers, the upbeat rhythm shattering the quiet.

Logan groaned audibly, his hand darting out to switch it off within seconds.

'Don’t wanna be a fool for.....'

The music cut off abruptly, leaving an awkward void. You furrowed your brows and glanced at him, annoyed, but said nothing. He didn’t either, his jaw tightening as he kept his eyes firmly on the road.

This is gonna be a hell of a ride.

Minutes ticked by in agonizing silence, the clock on the dashboard glowing faintly. You stifled a yawn, the lack of sleep catching up to you. Logan glanced in your direction briefly, his expression unreadable, before returning his focus to the road.

“Sleepy already?” he finally asked, his tone gruff but quieter than usual.

You blinked at the window, counting the sparse cars around you. “Oh, so you talk,” you shot back coldly, not bothering to look at him.

Logan sighed heavily, side-eyeing you before speaking again. “I don’t know whaddya want me to say,” he muttered, his tone carrying a hint of frustration.

Your patience snapped. “Fuck you, Logan. You’re the one pretending like nothing happened between us.”

His eyes flicked toward you briefly before returning to the road, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. “I thought that’s what you wanted.” he said, his voice steady but edged with tension.

“No! I don’t want that! Why are you acting like an asshole?” you snapped, shifting in your seat to face him fully.

Logan kept his focus ahead, his jaw ticking. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, but he didn’t raise his voice. “What do you want then?” he asked gruffly.

You opened your mouth to answer, ready to unleash everything bottled inside, but second thoughts hit you like a brick wall. Your throat tightened, and instead of speaking, you clamped your mouth shut and pulled your knees up, hugging them to your chest. Your gaze drifted back to the window, the darkened landscape blurring as tears threatened to sting your eyes.

Logan glanced at you from the corner of his eye, guilt flickering across his face, though he quickly masked it. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible but just loud enough for you to catch.

You swallowed hard, your nails digging into the fabric as you tried to steady your breathing. There was so much you wanted to say, so much that needed to be addressed, but this wasn’t the time. Maya and Ellie needed saving, and there was no room for emotions to get in the way.

You sat there, curled up in the passenger seat, clutching your knees tightly as the car glided through the quiet, empty highway. The faint hum of the engine filled the air between you, a stark contrast to the chaos in your chest. The longer the silence stretched, the heavier it felt, suffocating in a way words never could.

“M’sorry,” you whispered finally, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them. You didn’t even know what you were apologizing for exactly, but it felt like the right thing to say.

Logan glanced your way, his brow furrowing. You didn’t meet his gaze, your focus glued to the closed window, your reflection staring back at him. The image unsettled him—the way you sat curled into yourself, dressed in black like you were trying to look intimidating, but failing miserably with your chin resting atop your knees. You looked small, vulnerable, as though you were trying to shield yourself from something unseen.

He clenched his jaw, guilt gnawing at him as he returned his eyes to the road.

Logan took a deep breath, his knuckles tightening on the wheel. What the hell was he supposed to say now? Did you even realize how much he cared for you? How deeply?

Hell, he was out here driving through the freezing cold at two in the goddamn morning. Sure, finding that poor, innocent girl was the priority—but you were the real reason he’d agreed to this. He already knew how reckless and half-baked this plan was, especially with just the two of you. The team is going to be furious, he could already imagine the earful Scott would give him in this situation.

But he couldn’t fight you on it, he knew you too damn well. It was either he came along, or you’d go alone—and the thought of you facing this without him was something he couldn’t bear. Hell, he wouldn’t allow it.

If he had to, Logan would tear the whole goddamn world apart just to stand beside you. Whether to be an acquaintance, a friend, a partner, whatever you’d let him be. He would never leave you to deal with this on your own, not as long as he was still breathing.

“Don’t,” Logan muttered, his voice gruff as if the word was dragged out of him.

You blinked, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, unsure of what he meant.

“I’m sorry,” he growled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I was being a dick.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, surprised. Then, without warning, a small chuckle escaped you.

Logan’s head snapped toward you, confusion written all over his face. “What’s so funny?”

You bit your cheek, trying to hold back your laughter, but it only made it worse. Finally, you shook your head, letting out a soft laugh. “I just... I didn’t think you’d fall for it.”

Logan’s frown deepened, his confusion growing. “Fall for what?”

You shifted in your seat, lowering your legs and leaning back like you didn’t have a care in the world. “It’s okay. Now we’re both sorry.” You grinned at him mischievously. “I just didn’t expect you’d actually admit that you’re a dick.”

His expression darkened further, and he shot you a flat look. “Oh, fuck off.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, the sound bubbling out of you as his frown became more pronounced. “You’re a horrible person,” he muttered, though there was a faint hint of amusement in his voice.

“I know,” you said smugly, leaning back even further and resting your arm behind your head, clearly enjoying your victory.

But your moment of triumph didn’t last long. Logan’s eyes glinted with a mischievous edge as his foot suddenly slammed on the brakes.

The car jerked to a halt, and you—without your seatbelt fastened—were flung forward, hitting the dashboard with a loud thud.

“Ugh!” you grunted in pain, your hand rubbing to your forehead as you turned to glare at him. “What the fuck, Logan?!”

He was still in his seat, untouched thanks to his seatbelt “Sorry,” he said mockingly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “There was a cat crossing the street.”

He didn’t even try to hide his smug grin, leaning back in his seat like he didn’t just commit attempted murder. “Next time, buckle up, tough guy,” he said, his tone dry, but the amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

Your jaw tightened as you fastened your seatbelt with an angry click, not that you should even care because crashing would literally kill none of you, really. But you wouldn't take the chance to be a part of his petty joke again. “You’re so petty,” you muttered, slumping back into your seat, arms crossed.

Logan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “I know.” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath as the car resumed its journey. The tension that had once suffocated the air now felt lighter, though your annoyance with him lingered.

You’d get him back. Somehow.

Logan parked the car a few hundred meters away from the high-security compound, the faint glow of cameras scanning the area. The building stood tall in front of you, a modern fortress with high, wire-topped fences and armed guards at every corner. This wasn’t going to be easy.

You both exited the car in silence, you popped the trunk, revealing your gear neatly packed. You reached for the heavy black duffel bag, pulling it out and unzipping it with quick hands. The bag was full of weapons built for efficiency and speed, the kind you knew you could rely on in a tight spot.

You grabbed the Heckler & Koch MP5, its compact frame sitting comfortably in your hands. The submachine gun was built for quick action, a weapon perfect for close-quarters combat. It was lightweight but packed a punch, with its 9mm rounds designed for high velocity and rapid fire. You checked the magazine, making sure it was fully loaded, before slinging the strap over your shoulder. The weapon's compact size made it ideal for maneuvering through tight spaces, and the sound of the safety clicking off was a sound you were all too familiar with.

You ran your fingers over the soft, rubberized grip, knowing you could rely on it when things went south. The bag also held extra mags, each one loaded with 9mm rounds, quick to reload and ready for action. You gave a quick glance at Logan, his eyes now locked on you again, but you didn’t let the moment last too long, the weight of the gun a comforting reminder of your readiness.

He gave a low grunt. “This is a bad idea.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you muttered, adjusting your gloves. The plan was simple: Get in, find Maya, get out. No alarms. No mess. The problem was, nothing ever went according to plan.

Logan took the lead, moving with his usual predatory grace. The two of you made your way through the shadows, careful not to alert the guards. The compound was surrounded by tall, overgrown hedges, giving you some cover as you approached the back entrance. You crept toward a side gate, its lock weak enough for Logan to pry open with ease.

"You always make it look easy," you whispered, impressed despite yourself.

He grinned, his eyes gleaming in the dark. "Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You slipped through the gap, your footsteps silent on the cold concrete as you moved deeper into the facility. The perimeter was quiet, but the tension in the air was suffocating. Logan led the way, his keen senses constantly scanning the area. Every creak of a door, every flicker of a light, had you on edge.

You reached the back of the building, a narrow, unlit hallway leading inside. Logan paused, giving you a sharp glance. “Ready?”

“No shit,” you said, determination hardening your voice. You weren’t backing out now, no matter what.

He pulled open the door and ushering you inside. The air was cool and sterile, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the cement floors. You crept down the hall, moving in sync with Logan, every step calculated.

At the end of the hallway, you spotted a guarded door—high-security, with a keypad and a camera positioned just above it. Without hesitation, Logan stepped forward, grabbing the guard’s arm from the shadowed corner and pulling him into the darkness. He was out before he could make a sound, leaving behind nothing but a faint smell of burning skin.

You shuddered slightly but stayed focused. This was just part of the plan. Getting in and out.

Logan keyed in the code he'd swiped off the unconscious guard’s wristwatch, the door clicking open with a soft beep. He held it open, letting you slip inside first. The room was dark and cold, filled with computers and high-tech equipment. At the far end, a small holding cell, barely visible in the gloom, had a single figure slumped against the wall.

“Maya,” you whispered urgently, your voice cracking.

She looked up slowly, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. But when she saw you, her lips trembled, and for a moment, you could see the faintest glimmer of hope. "You came..."

You rushed to her side, kneeling beside her, gently brushing a strand of her hair away to get a better look at her face. She was bruised and battered, her small frame trembling, but nothing seemed life-threatening. Still, the sight of her like this ignited a fierce protectiveness in your chest.

“Where’s Ellie?” you asked, your voice soft but urgent.

Maya flinched at the question, her lips quivering. “I-I don’t know,” she stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “We... we were playing together, and then—” Her words broke off, her small body trembling as tears welled up in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Maya,” you said quickly, your tone firm but comforting. “We’re getting you out of here. You’re safe now.”

Logan moved around, his sharp eyes scanning the room for any signs of further threats. “We don’t have time for this,” he muttered, already heading toward the door. “We need to move. Get her to safety first.”

You hesitated, your instincts screaming to keep looking for Ellie, but Logan’s tone left no room for argument. He glanced back at you, his voice low but commanding. “We’ll come back for her. Right now, we’ve gotta get Maya out before we’re cornered.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and reached down to help Maya to her feet. Her legs wobbled, and she winced at the effort, but she clung to you tightly. “We’re getting you out,” you reassured her again, though the knot in your stomach didn’t loosen.

As you moved toward the door, the beeping of the security alarm behind you confirmed the worst. Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his expression grim. “Move it,” he said sharply.

Grabbing Maya’s hand, you pulled her along, your heart pounding as you navigated through the dim hallway. Logan led the way, his senses on high alert. You reached the stairwell, but your stomach sank as you saw more guards below.

Logan growled low under his breath, his fists clenching. “Stay behind me,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Logan cleared the path with a relentless fury, and together, you pushed forward, determined to get Maya out of this nightmare and to safety. Only then would you think about going back for Ellie.

Without hesitation, Logan leaped into action, taking down the first guard with brutal efficiency. You followed closely, keeping Maya tucked safely behind you, your body positioned as a shield.

You would have the time of your life alongside Logan taking these guards down, but tonight your MP5 was nothing more than a safety measure, secondary to your true focus. Your attention was entirely on Maya, making yourself her shield, her protection. No harm would come to her—not a single scratch, not the faintest injury. You positioned yourself between her and the chaos outside, every move calculated to ensure her safety above all else.

Logan’s claws came out, the metallic sound cutting through the air. With every strike, another guard fell. You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the way he moved—fierce, unstoppable. He cleared a path toward the exit, but it wasn’t without cost. You could hear the distant sound of reinforcements arriving, the compound now fully alerted to your presence.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath. There was no turning back now.

But you didn’t need to. Maya was free. That was all that mattered.

As you reached the exit, the lights behind you began to flash. You could hear the sirens, feel the pressure of the situation mounting. But Logan was already pushing you forward, his voice low and gruff. "Keep moving. I’ll cover you."

You barely had time to process what was happening before you burst through the door, the cold air hitting your face like a slap. The car was still a few hundred meters away, but there was no time to hesitate. Without a word, you crouched and scooped Maya into your arms. She instinctively clung to you, her small arms wrapping tightly around your neck, her feet curling against your stomach to secure herself. Her muffled cries broke your focus, soft and trembling as she buried her face into your shoulder, her fingers gripping your shirt like a lifeline.

You ran as fast as you could, every step echoing in the silence of the night, Logan keeping pace just behind you. The weight of Maya in your arms was nothing compared to the drive to get her to safety. You could feel her little hand clutching you tighter with every sound of pursuit behind you, her breath hitching against your collarbone.

You reached the car first, yanking the back door open and rushing Maya inside. Her tiny arms loosened around your neck as you gently set her on the seat, her tear-streaked face burying deeper into your shoulder for a moment. You whispered, "Stay here, sweet girl," before pulling back just enough to slam the door shut. You didn’t waste time sliding into the passenger seat as Logan bolted into the driver’s seat beside you.

The engine roared to life as Logan turned the wheel sharply, tires screeching against the cold pavement. The car bolted forward, but the horror started almost immediately. Gunfire erupted behind you, bullets slamming into the rear of the vehicle with sharp metallic thuds.

"Get down!" you yelled instinctively, your voice sharp and commanding. Maya screamed, a high-pitched cry that sent a pang through your chest. "Maya, keep your head down, baby. Stay as low as you can," you urged, already crawling from the passenger seat to shield her in the back.

The gunfire intensified, the attackers closing in. Logan growled under his breath as he adjusted the rearview mirror. “They’re catching up. Bikes.”

You twisted, catching sight of two motorcycles weaving in and out of the shadows. Their riders aimed and fired, their bullets shattering both side windows. Glass shards rained into the car, cutting into the chaos.

Logan flinched, jerking slightly as a bullet grazed his arm, tearing through his jacket. He hissed but kept his focus on the road. “Damn it,” he muttered, his grip tightening on the wheel.

Another bullet grazed your shoulder, burning through your jacket. The sharp sting was brief, dulled by your healing factor, but it still sent a jolt of frustration through you. "Logan, they’re on both sides!"

One biker closed in on Logan’s side, leveling his weapon for a clean shot. Logan swerved sharply, slamming the car into the bike, but the rider steadied himself. Without hesitation, Logan growled, "Hold on," and yanked the car door open.

In one fluid motion, Logan leaned out, his left arm shooting forward to grab the man by the neck. The rider’s eyes widened in shock as Logan yanked him clean off the bike, slamming him to the ground with brutal force.

On the right, another rider closed in, aiming for the car. You didn’t hesitate. The MP5 was already in your hands, and with a calculated burst of fire, you hit his front tire. The bike wobbled violently before tipping, sending the rider skidding across the asphalt.

"Fuck!" Logan snarled as another shot blew out the rear tire. The car lurched violently, metal screeching against the road as it ground to a halt. Logan slammed the wheel in frustration, his chest heaving. "Get her up. Now!"

You scrambled to Maya, pulling her carefully into your arms. She was trembling but responsive. “Come on, baby,” you murmured, trying to steady your voice.

By the time you turned, Logan was already at one of the fallen bikes, inspecting it for damage. "This’ll do," he muttered, hauling the machine upright. He swung onto the seat, revving the engine.

Then you saw it. Maya’s head lolled against your chest, and the dark stain on her shirt caught your attention. Blood seeped from a cut on her neck, spreading too quickly. Your stomach clenched.

"Logan!" you shouted, your voice cracking. "She’s bleeding bad!"

Logan’s head whipped around, his expression hardening. “Get on.” His voice left no room for argument.

Clutching Maya’s fragile body, you climbed onto the bike behind Logan, holding her close. Logan revved the engine, and the bike sped off into the night. You pressed Maya’s small frame against yours, one hand trying desperately to stem the bleeding at her neck.

“Stay with me, baby,” you whispered into her hair, your voice breaking as the cold wind whipped past. “Please, Maya, just hold on.”

4:27 a.m. You stood frozen, staring at Maya’s unconscious form in the medbay. The room felt distant, the sterile white lights blurring everything into a haze. Hank and Jean had been woken up barely ten minutes ago by Logan, and now they were rushing back and forth in their white coats, their voices low but urgent.

You should’ve felt bad for pulling them into this mess, dragging them out of bed at this hour. But even that guilt was nothing compared to the pit of self-loathing eating away at you. This was your fault. Maya’s condition, her pale face, her blood staining your hands was because of you. Reckless. Stupid. You didn’t fucking think before-

"Hey," Logan’s voice broke through the storm in your head, soft but steady.

You didn’t look at him, didn’t respond. You barely even registered his presence, the sound of Jean’s voice faintly breaking through your fog. She was explaining something to Hank, something about Maya losing too much blood, needing to confirm her blood type. But the words barely landed.

You clenched your arms tighter across your chest, folding into yourself. The weight of everything—Maya’s fragile state, your own failures was suffocating. Logan stepped closer, watching you carefully. His hand reached out, resting gently on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against you in a calming rhythm.

The small, unexpected gesture made you shiver. The knot in your chest tightened, and you felt the sting of tears threatening to spill. Slowly, your head dipped, your defenses crumbling under the weight of it all. You couldn’t stop the overwhelming tide of emotions crashing down on you.

"Go clean up. Let Hank and Jean do what they need to." he suggested.

A word didn’t even leave your lips. You felt lost, unmoored in a storm of emotions that you couldn’t navigate. You didn’t know what to do, how to move, how to think. You needed guidance, even if it was something as small and straightforward as Logan telling you to clean up. His words cut through the fog, and for a fleeting moment, you felt a sense of obedience—a familiar pull to follow orders. That was what you were good at, after all. What you were once best at: following orders.

Your eyes flicked up to Logan, searching for...something. His palm remained steady on your shoulder, grounding you, his thumb moving in a small, repetitive motion that somehow kept you from spiraling. His gaze met yours with the quiet reassurance there was enough to steady your nod.

You stepped away, walking out of the medbay, his hand falling from your shoulder as you moved. The absence of his touch left a strange void, but you pushed forward, heading toward the stairs. Logan followed silently a few steps behind, his heavy footsteps echoing softly against the walls. He didn’t push you, didn’t fill the space with meaningless words, but his presence lingered with constant, quiet support.

You climbed the stairs mechanically, every step feeling heavier than the last. The exhaustion, the guilt, the overwhelming swirl of emotions, they pressed down on you, threatening to crush you with each passing second. As much as Logan worried about Maya, you both knew there was nothing more either of you could do. It was Hank and Jean’s turn now. That truth didn’t make the wait any easier.

When you reached your room, you stopped in the doorway, gripping the frame as if it could hold you upright. Logan paused behind you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He watched you closely, his sharp gaze catching every tremble in your hands, every shaky breath.

Your fingers fumbled with the straps of your gear, but they wouldn’t cooperate. Frustration bubbled up, and you let out a low growl as you yanked the vest off and dropped it unceremoniously onto the floor. Bloodstains smeared across the fabric caught your eye, and your chest tightened at the sight.

Logan pushed off the wall and stepped inside, crouching down to pick up the discarded vest. He set it aside carefully, his movements slow and deliberate, as though giving you the time and space to process.

“I'll stay here,” he said again, his voice quieter this time, almost gentle.

You nodded again, your movements sluggish, and turned toward the bathroom. The weight of the day settled on your shoulders, dragging your steps, but you kept moving.

You stepped into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you, you turned around to lock it immediately. The smell hit immediately—dried blood, sweat, and the lingering metallic tang of Maya’s injury. It clung to you like guilt, heavy and suffocating.

With trembling hands, you stripped off your clothes, dropping them into a heap on the floor. The fabric stuck to your skin in places where blood had dried, and the motion sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you.

Standing at the sink, you turned on the faucet, the rush of water almost deafening in the quiet. You scrubbed your hands, desperate to rid yourself of the blood staining your skin. Maya’s blood. It was there, literal-fucking-ly on your hands, and no matter how hard you scrubbed, it felt like it wouldn’t come off. Your breaths grew erratic as the image of her unconscious face looped endlessly in your mind.

You turned the faucet off abruptly, the silence that followed almost unbearable. Moving to the shower, you twisted the knob to the hottest setting, steam immediately rising to fill the small space. You stepped in, holding your hands under the boiling stream, watching as the dried blood finally washed away, swirling down the drain.

The searing heat burned your skin, but the pain felt satisfying—a punishment you thought you deserved. It wasn’t enough to hurt you, not with your healing ability, but it gave you a brief, fleeting sense of control.

The water cascaded over you, from the top of your head to your toes, scalding and relentless. You gritted your teeth as the heat bit into your skin, but the pain wasn’t what broke you. The weight of everything did.

Your legs gave out, and you slid down onto the cold tiles, your back pressed against the wall. Hugging your knees to your chest, you buried your face in them, letting the boiling water pour over you as sobs wracked your body. It wasn’t the pain that made you cry—you weren’t even sure what it was anymore. You just needed to let it out, to feel something other than the crushing guilt.

Outside, Logan sat by your windowsill, his arms crossed as he stared into the night. His nose twitched as a faint scent wafted through the air—burned flesh. He furrowed his brow, his senses sharpening as the smell lingered. It didn’t fade. If anything, it grew stronger.

Concern etched into his features, he pushed off the sill and headed toward your bathroom door. The scent was unmistakable now, and worry gnawed at the edges of his composure. He knocked gently.

“Hey,” he called, his voice calm but firm. “You okay in there?”

No response.

He tried again, calling your name louder this time. “I’m gonna break this door if you don’t answer.”

Still nothing.

Logan muttered a curse under his breath, his patience snapping as the smell of burning flesh only intensified. With a heavy thud, he slammed his shoulder into the door. The wooden frame groaned but held. Another slam, then another, until the lock finally gave way, the door flying open to release a rush of hot steam that hit him like a wall.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, waving a hand in front of his face in a futile attempt to clear the air. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, curled up on the shower floor, water pouring over your trembling, bare figure.

“Shit,” he whispered under his breath, his jaw tightening as the scene before him sank in.

The scalding water hissed against his arm skin as he reached for the shower handle, shutting it off with a groan. His own flesh burned at the contact, but it healed almost instantly. He turned his focus to you, crouching beside your slumped form, his heart breaking at the sight of your vulnerability.

Grabbing a towel from a nearby rack, he opened it wide and carefully wrapped it around you. His movements were gentle, deliberate, as though afraid he might break you further. His voice was soft when he finally spoke.

“Hey,” he murmured, his hand brushing against your damp hair. “C’mon, darlin’. Let’s get you out of here.”

You didn’t respond at first, your head lifting only slightly as you noticed his presence. His face was etched with worry, his sharp features softened by the sorrow in his eyes. His hand came up to cup the side of your jaw, his thumb tracing lightly over your tear-streaked cheek.

You swallowed hard, your voice caught in your throat. The overwhelming emotions left you unable to speak, and all you could do was stare at him, your swollen eyes searching for something—comfort, reassurance, anything.

Logan shifted to sit beside you, his broad shoulder brushing against yours. He opened his arms, a silent invitation. Without thinking, you leaned into him, tucking your head against his chest as his arms enveloped you. The dampness of your hair soaked into his shirt, but he couldn't care less. His chin rested atop your head, his steady presence anchoring you as you sobbed quietly, the tears flowing freely now.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest. “I’ve got you.”

Logan stayed there, holding you as though his presence alone could shield you from whatever storm was raging inside. His arms tightened just enough to remind you he was there—not pushing, not forcing, just being. His thumb drew absent circles against your arm, a silent comfort that kept you tethered to the moment.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours; time seemed to lose meaning. The bathroom remained cloaked in a haze of steam, the air thick and humid, but neither of you moved. The water had long since stopped running, leaving only the faint drip-drip of the showerhead to break the silence. Logan didn't rush you; he seemed to know you needed this space, this moment to fall apart without judgment.

Eventually, your sobs quieted, leaving you drained and trembling in his arms. Your head stayed tucked against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was grounding, a lifeline you hadn't known you needed. You felt small, raw, like a wound left open, but for the first time in hours, the suffocating weight of guilt started to ease—just a little.

Logan broke the silence first, his voice a low murmur. "I know you think this is all on you, but it’s not."

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you nodded faintly, your face brushing against the damp fabric of his shirt. He took the gesture for what it was, a small step forward, and didn’t press for more.

After a moment, he shifted slightly, one arm still wrapped around you as the other reached for the towel. He adjusted it, making sure it covered you properly before pulling back just enough to look at you. His piercing gaze softened when it met yours, his eyes filled with an understanding you hadn’t expected.

“You’re freezing,” he said, his brows knitting together. “Let’s get you outta here, yeah?”

You blinked, realizing for the first time that your body was shaking—not from cold, but from the aftermath of everything you’d been holding in. Still, you nodded again, letting him help you to your feet. His hand stayed steady on your arm as he guided you out of the shower, careful not to let you slip on the wet tiles.

He grabbed another towel, wrapping it around your hair with surprising gentleness. The care in his actions almost undid you again, but you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold it together.

“I’ll grab you some clothes,” he said quietly, motioning toward your dresser. “Just sit tight.”

You sank onto the edge of your bed, the towel still wrapped tightly around you as you watched him move. His presence filled the room—not in an overbearing way, but in a way that made you feel less...alone. He returned a moment later with a fresh set of clothes, setting them down beside you.

“You good to change?” he asked, his voice soft but firm, like he was giving you the option to say no.

You nodded, and he took that as his cue to turn away, suddenly finding your window so interesting to glance at. Giving you privacy while still staying within arm’s reach. His respect for your boundaries didn’t go unnoticed, and it made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

Once dressed, you hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice hoarse from crying. “Logan?”

He turned back to you immediately, his eyes meeting yours.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words trembling with guilt. “For dragging you into all of this. You didn’t deserve it.”

His expression softened, a mix of concern and frustration flickering in his gaze. “Don’t start with that,” he said firmly but not unkindly. “You didn’t drag me anywhere. I’m here because I wanna be. Got it?”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words settling over you like a fragile reassurance. Your eyes flicked to the clock by your nightstand—5:03 a.m. The realization made your stomach twist, the hours slipping away faster than you could think.

“I need to check on Maya's condition,” you said suddenly, your voice steadier but still strained.

Logan’s hand, still resting lightly on your shoulder, gave a gentle squeeze. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The hallway leading to the med bay felt like it stretched on forever, each step dragging like a weight tethered to your ankles. Logan walked beside you, silent but present, his steady pace offering a grounding presence you barely noticed through the storm raging in your chest. The fluorescent lights overhead hummed softly, an unbearable mockery of normalcy as dread curled in your gut.

When you reached the med bay door, it opened with a quiet hiss, and the world seemed to tilt. The room was unnaturally quiet, the air heavy, oppressive. Jean stood by the bed where Maya lay, her figure tense, arms crossed tightly over her chest. A bag of blood hung from a metal stand, but the tube dangled loose, disconnected. Hank sat slumped in a chair nearby, his head bowed low, the white of his coat streaked with red that had long since dried. He didn’t even look up when you entered.

Jean turned as the door clicked shut behind you, her gaze snapping to meet yours. Her expression was grave, her face drawn and heavy with something unspeakable. The weight of her silence crushed you instantly.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, your voice trembling as you crossed the room in hurried strides, your pulse roaring in your ears. The question tasted bitter on your tongue, dread bubbling up in your chest. You didn’t want to know the answer, not really. You clung desperately to the fragile hope that what you feared wasn’t true.

Jean didn’t answer. Her lips parted, but no words came, only a flicker of helplessness in her eyes that made your stomach plummet. You turned your attention to Hank, sitting motionless, his large hands limp in his lap. Still, no response. It was the silence that told you everything. The kind of silence that only follows the unspeakable.

Your breath quickened as your eyes fell on Maya’s still form on the bed. You reached out, your fingers trembling as they brushed against her cold skin. The moment you touched her, you recoiled. No. This can’t be real.

“Maya,” you whispered, your voice cracking. The panic rose inside you, but you fought to keep it in check. You pressed your fingers to her neck, hoping against hope for a pulse, for any sign of life. There was nothing. The stillness suffocated you. “No, no, no—this can’t be happening.”

You couldn’t stop the tears that welled in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You blinked rapidly, your chest tight, trying to hold it all in. Your knees buckled slightly, and you steadied yourself by gripping the bed rail. Your breath came in shallow bursts, but you forced yourself not to break down completely. Not here, not now.

“What happened?” The question slipped out of you in a broken, quiet voice, and you turned to Hank and Jean, your eyes searching for an answer they couldn’t give.

Jean’s gaze dropped to the floor, her voice soft but heavy. “She was gone before we could stop the bleeding,” she said, and her words cut deeper than anything else in the room.

“No.” You shook your head violently, your hands gripping the bed rail as if it could anchor you. “You’re lying. She’s not—she’s not gone. She can’t be. It’s my fault. I should’ve—” Your voice broke, your chest heaving as the truth slammed into you like a freight train.

Logan’s hand was on your shoulder then, warm and steady. “They've tried their best” he said, his voice low but certain. “So did we, so did you.”

Your tears finally slipping free, but you didn’t sob. It was quiet, contained, but the weight of them felt unbearable. You swallowed hard, wiping your face, but the tears came regardless, leaving silent trails down your cheeks. The grief sat heavily in your chest, raw and unyielding.

You looked back at Maya’s small body, your heart aching, the guilt still gnawing at you. “I should’ve—” Your voice faltered again

“Stop,” he said, his voice low and firm, cutting through the chaos in your head. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

Logan's arm rests steady by your shoulder, with a slight pressure, as if he's trying to pull you into his embrace. As inviting and comforting as it seems, you can't accept such affection from him—you simply cannot.

His heart shatters into pieces at the scene before him: the sweet girl who doesn’t deserve this, and you, torturing yourself with it. He can feel the guilt radiating from your very core, and whilst he's not a much of a believer at this very moment he wishes he could make it better, could make you feel better, if only he knew how. His vain attempt at a gentle pull to draw you closer goes unnoticed by you—or at least, that's what he thinks.

You felt worthless, an absolute failure. You thought you are a failure when Maya's injured but now to cost her a life too? Is there even a word for that, something lower than a failure, a disappointment perhaps. She deserved better, if only you didn't storm in like a rookie and thought everything would go as planned, maybe she'd be alive. If only you didn't let the paranoia get the best of you, letting yourself to work as a team with the others.

You stepped back, the nauseating feeling washing over you once again—one you could never get used to. It was overwhelming. Logan’s arm fell from your shoulder, and he glanced at you immediately, searching for your eyes.

You didn’t know why, but a sudden urge to hide overwhelmed you. Embarrassment crept in like a heavy shadow. They would acknowledge your grief, yes, but they would also acknowledge the truth you couldn’t escape—that it was all because of you. Your fault. No matter how hard they tried to mask their silent judgment, it was always written plainly on their faces.

You wanted to run away from all of it. Like you always do—an avoider. “Excuse me,” you said, your voice quieter than intended, as your hand relentlessly wiped at the stupid tears streaming down your face. Your feet, weighed down by guilt, carried you out of the medbay in seconds.

Logan's confusion was palpable. He would’ve expected you to mourn in a much different way—maybe saying a final goodbye to Maya with heavy, fat tears. Instead, your reaction left him unsettled. Turning his attention back to Maya's body, he murmured softly, “M’really sorry, girl,” a quiet apology and farewell meant more for her than for himself. He tried to be tough, for his own sake and, in part, for yours.

When he looked up again, his focus shifted to you disappearing down the hallway. With a deep sigh, he turned to Jean and Hank. “I’m sorry, Jean, Hank.” he said simply, nodding at each of them before walking out with heavy, deliberate foot steps.

With your arms wrapped tightly around your body, as if they could shield you from the crushing weight of your shame, you walked briskly, desperate to disappear before anyone could see you. But your hope shattered when Logan’s voice rang out from behind, calling your name—once, twice, and then multiple times.

That didn't stopped you, why would it be. You need a time, an alone time obviously.

You kept walking, your pace quickening with every step. Logan's voice called after you, his tone growing sharper, more insistent, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Your feet moved on autopilot, carrying you toward your room as if it were the only safe harbor in a storm. You needed space—alone time, desperately—because facing anyone, even him, was unbearable right now.

Reaching your door, you fumbled with the handle, slipping inside just as Logan's footsteps came up behind you. The door clicked shut, and you locked it immediately, the sound echoing in the suffocating silence of your room.

Your legs gave out beneath you, the weight of everything dragging you down. You fell to the floor with a quiet thud, your back sliding against the door until you were sitting, knees pulled to your chest. Your hands trembled as they wrapped around your legs, holding yourself together as though you might otherwise shatter completely. The tears came fast and hot, spilling down your face in relentless waves as sobs wracked your body.

Outside, Logan stopped just short of colliding with the door. He stared at it for a moment, frustration and worry warring on his face. His hand came up, hesitating before he knocked gently, his voice barely audible over the sound of your muffled cries.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said, his words soft but edged with a quiet plea. “C’mon. Let me in.”

Your sobs didn’t stop. If anything, they grew louder, raw and broken, tearing through the fragile silence like jagged glass. The sound twisted something deep inside him, and Logan let out a frustrated growl under his breath. His hands curled into fists at his sides as he leaned his forehead against the door, the cool wood doing little to ground him.

He could hear every breath you took, every hitch in your voice, every agonized cry that told him exactly how much pain you were in. And it was killing him. Logan wasn’t the type to sit idly by, but now, he had no choice. You had locked him out—both literally and figuratively—and no matter how badly he wanted to rip the door off its hinges, he held himself back. Barely.

“Dammit,” he muttered, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. His fists uncurled, one hand coming up to press flat against the door, as if somehow that small gesture could reach you.

Inside, you heard his words, but they felt distant, like a faint echo buried beneath the tidal wave of your guilt. Your breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps, your chest heaving as the weight of everything pressed down on you. Maya’s face flashed in your mind—her lifeless body, the blood, the stillness—and a fresh wave of nausea rolled through you.

Logan's voice came again, this time firmer, though still gentle. “You’re not the reason this happened. You hear me? It wasn’t your fault.”

But you couldn’t hear him—not really. The voice in your head was louder, crueler, drowning him out with accusations and blame. It was your fault. You should’ve done better, been better. You shouldn’t have stormed into the mission so recklessly, thinking everything would go as planned. Maya was gone because of you, and nothing anyone said could change that.

Outside, Logan’s patience snapped. He slammed his palm against the door, the loud crack startling even him. “Lemme in,” he demanded, his voice rough, a thread of desperation woven through it. “Lemme in, Jesus.”

But there was no response. Only the sound of your quiet, choked cries bleeding through the door. Logan clenched his jaw, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He wanted to be angry at you, to yell at you for shutting him out, but he couldn’t. Not when he could hear the sheer agony in every sound you made.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He leaned back against the door, his body a tense line of restraint. The urge to break down the barrier between you was almost overwhelming, but he stayed put, knowing you’d only push him further away if he forced his way in.

“Please,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur, almost a whisper. “Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out.” His words hung heavy in the air, unanswered.

Logan’s heart twisted painfully as he realized he couldn’t reach you—not like this. You kept putting distance between yourself and everyone else, a distance that felt impossible for him to cross. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to hold you until the storm inside you calmed, but you wouldn’t let him. And that broke something inside him more than he cared to admit.

Sliding down to sit on the floor outside your door, Logan rested his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He stayed there, silent but present, listening to your muffled cries. His claws itched to tear the door apart, but instead, he let out a quiet sigh, his voice barely audible as he spoke again.

“M'not going anywhere,” he said softly, his words meant for you and you alone. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be right here.”

•••

The sun had begun its slow ascent, casting a dark blue hue over the horizon visible through your window. The shadows of the night retreated inch by inch, but the heaviness inside you refused to dissipate. You hadn’t moved from your spot by the window, knees drawn to your chest, the tears long since dried on your cheeks. An hour had passed, maybe more, though it felt like a lifetime.

Then, Professor Xavier's calm, commanding voice broke the silence, resonating in your mind. “I need you in the meeting room.”

You inhaled deeply, trying to steady the storm inside you. Rising to your feet felt like a monumental effort, but you managed. You opened the door and froze at the sight of Logan seated by the wall just outside, his head resting against it, eyes closed but still alert. He looked up instantly, his gaze locking onto yours.

He stood quickly, his movements fluid despite the obvious exhaustion etched into his features. "Xavier?" he asked, his tone neutral but edged with concern.

“Yeah,” you croaked out, your voice raspy and weak, accompanied by a small nod. You avoided his gaze, focusing on the floor as you closed the door behind you. Without another word, you turned and began walking toward the stairs, your feet moving automatically.

But you hadn’t gone far when Logan’s hand gently caught your wrist, halting your steps. “Hey,” he said softly followed by muttering your name, his voice a plea more than a call.

You froze, your body stiffening at the contact. For a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn, couldn’t bear to see the worry or frustration in his eyes. But his pull was gentle, almost reluctant, and it broke through your hesitation. Slowly, you turned to face him, your gaze falling to where his hand wrapped around your wrist.

“You don’t have to go,” he murmured, his voice quiet but firm. “I can talk to Charles.” His thumb brushed lightly against your wrist, the touch grounding in its tenderness.

“No, Logan,” you said, shaking your head, your voice steadier this time. “This is my responsibility.”

His grip loosened but didn’t fall away, his thumb still tracing soothing circles on your skin. “Alright,” he muttered, his tone almost resigned, though his words carried an undercurrent of understanding.

His voice pulled your gaze upward, and for the first time, you met his eyes fully. They were heavy with exhaustion and unspoken emotions, a reflection of everything he wasn’t saying but felt nonetheless. You swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at you as your eyes flicked from his to his lips for the briefest moment—a fleeting, subconscious act.

Realizing what you’d done, you flinched slightly, pulling your wrist free from his grasp. “I’ll be fine,” you mumbled, turning quickly and walking toward the stairs without sparing him another glance.

Behind you, Logan let out a quiet sigh, his frustration palpable. He followed a step behind, unwilling to let you face whatever awaited you alone, even if you didn’t want his company.

The room fell silent as you stepped in, Logan following close behind. All eyes turned toward you, their gazes heavy, searing into your already fragile composure. You glanced around the table, forcing yourself to take in each expression, though you couldn’t linger for long.

Scott’s face was a mask of barely restrained fury, his jaw clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line. Even behind his visor, you could feel the weight of his disappointment. It radiated off him, sharp and cutting, like a physical blow.

Beside him, Jean sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her face pale, her eyes rimmed with red. She wasn’t just mourning—she was devastated, her grief a palpable force that seemed to drain the room of warmth.

Ororo’s expression was harder to decipher. Her lips pressed together in a grim line, her eyes clouded with a mix of emotions—grief, perhaps, but also a quiet sadness that hinted at disappointment.

Hank sat hunched over, his hands clasped tightly on the table, his brow furrowed in an almost pained expression. His guilt was etched into every line of his face, though you knew this wasn’t on him. Still, it weighed on him as if it were.

Finally, your eyes landed on Charles. His face was as composed as ever, his expression neutral and unreadable. Yet the silence that lingered between you spoke volumes. There was no condemnation in his gaze, but no reassurance, either—just the quiet presence of a man who had seen too much.

The weight of their collective stares became unbearable, and you looked down, focusing on the floor as you moved to take an empty seat. Logan’s hand lightly brushed your back, a silent anchor, before he stepped around you to take the chair beside yours.

The silence in the meeting room was oppressive as Charles cleared his throat, his voice calm yet heavy with the weight of the situation.

“We’re here to discuss the unfortunate events that has occurred,” he began, his tone measured, “And to prepare for Maya’s funeral this morning.”

The mention of her name sent a fresh wave of guilt crashing over you. You stared at the table, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

Scott, however, wasted no time, his voice sharp and biting. “She needs to explain herself.” His gaze burned into you, and though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the visor, the fury in his voice was unmistakable. “A student is dead, because she couldn’t keep her head straight.”

Logan shifted in his seat beside you, his fists curling against the table. “Ease up, Summers,” he growled, his tone low and menacing.

“No,” Scott shot back, his voice rising. “You think this is something we can just brush off? Maya’s gone, and someone needs to be held accountable!”

Logan leaned forward, his voice cold and deliberate. “Accountable? You wanna talk about accountability, Scott? Maybe we should start with who came back drunk last night.”

Scott froze, his jaw tightening as Logan’s words hit their mark.

“She was trying to do the team a favor” Logan continued, his gaze hard.

“Logan,” Charles interjected, his tone a quiet warning, but Logan ignored him, his focus locked on Scott.

“You weren’t out there,” Logan said, his voice sharp as claws. “You didn’t see what we were up against.”

Scott looked like he wanted to fire back, but Jean placed a hand on his arm, her touch calming him just enough to make him sit back.

Charles turned to you, his expression gentler. “Please, tell us what happened,” he said, his tone more of a request than a command.

Your hands tightened into fists against your knees, your voice trembling as you began.

“Logan and I got her into the car, we were already leaving from the facility and her condition was well” you said quietly, your throat tightening. “I thought we were clear, but then…” You hesitated, the memory of that moment flashing vividly in your mind.

“They catch up with bikers and started shooting, the window shattered” you continued, your voice breaking. “A bullet… or maybe a glass, it nicked through her neck.”

You couldn’t say more, your words catching as your breaths grew shallow. Logan’s hand moved, his rough palm settling atop your trembling one where it gripped your knee tightly. His warmth anchored you, his touch gentle but grounding.

“We almost got her,” Logan said, his voice low but steady, cutting through the tension in the room. His tone carried a weight of guilt, even though you knew it wasn’t his to bear. “I couldn’t drive fast enough.”

His admission hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, as if he blamed himself when the truth was far from that.

“It wasn’t his fault,” you said, your voice barely audible, but firm. “It was mine. It was my idea to move faster, to take the risk.”

Logan’s grip on your hand tightened just slightly, a silent protest against your self-blame.

The room remained quiet for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. Even Scott, though still fuming, seemed to falter, the sharp edges of his anger dulled by the rawness of what had been said.

Charles’s gaze lingered on you and Logan, his expression unreadable but thoughtful.

Jean was the first to break the silence. “And Ellie?” she asked softly, her voice laced with concern.

The reminder hit you like a punch to the gut. Ellie. You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “We didn’t find her. She’s still out there.”

Scott’s scowl deepened. “So, we’re sitting here, wasting time when we should be focusing on finding her.”

“We will,” Charles said firmly.

Ororo looked to you, her expression thoughtful but troubled. “Why would they target children, especially girls?” she asked. “It seems deliberate.”

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “Because girls are less likely to be seen as a threat,” you said, your voice steady. “They’re easier to overlook, which makes it simpler to take them without raising alarm. And if they’re young enough, they’re more vulnerable—less likely to fight back or escape.”

You paused, glancing around the room. “But it’s not just about control. Girls are often underestimated, even when they have powerful abilities. Someone like Maya, with her supersonic scream, or Ellie, who can manipulate fire—that kind of power in someone people don’t expect to be dangerous? It’s exactly what these people want. They can groom them into weapons without the same resistance they’d face from boys or adults.”

Ororo’s expression hardened as your words sank in, the room falling silent under the weight of the revelation.

Hank nodded solemnly. “Their methods align with that theory. The equipment and resources we’ve seen point to calculated, targeted operations.”

“We need to find Ellie,” Scott said, his tone resolute. “And we need to stop SAC and Killebrew before they take anyone else.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, his hand still resting lightly atop yours. “We gotta face something bigger” he began, his voice steady but edged with tension, “This wasn’t just random. The SAC, they’re mixed up in this probably alongside with CIA and Killebrew too. This ain’t the first time we’ve crossed paths with the man, he could be deep with all this.”

Scott’s scowl deepened, and he crossed his arms. “We’ve dealt with Killebrew before,” he said sharply. “There's not enough solid proof he was behind these new experiments. Just speculation. The man's old, he's running out of time.”

“Speculation doesn’t get us anywhere,” Ororo said softly, though her tone carried a distinct edge.

Jean leaned forward, her voice low. “If Killebrew is involved, we need to connect him to SAC and whoever else is funding these operations. Otherwise, we’ll just be chasing shadows again.”

Hank adjusted his glasses and sighed. “The attack on Maya and the equipment used tell us a lot. I analyzed the bike, custom made. It’s clear their resources are not only military-grade but could also specifically designed for counter-mutant operations. This suggests direct involvement from SAC, with Killebrew’s expertise likely supporting their goals.”

“What exactly are their goals, Hank?” Charles asked, his tone even but probing.

“From what we’ve gathered so far,” Hank said, his voice growing more serious, “it’s not just containment. SAC is using Killebrew’s methods to experiment on mutants. They’re trying to weaponize abilities. Think back to the enhanced weaponry we encountered—they’re taking mutant DNA and turning it into tools for warfare.”

A heavy silence followed as the weight of Hank’s words settled over the room.

Logan broke it, his voice rough. “We need to hit their base again. There’s gotta be somethin’ there—a lead, intel, anything. Webknow what we’re walkin’ into this time.”

Scott scoffed, his frustration bubbling over. “Yeah because this time nobody's gonna be harmed” His voice was sharp, his anger directed more at the situation than any one person.

Logan’s jaw clenched, but his voice stayed level. “Can you stop being such an asshole for five fucking minutes?” he said pointedly, as Scott referencing the recklessness of his and your recent off-mission behavior.

The tension between them was palpable, but before it could escalate, Charles raised a hand. “Enough,” he said firmly. His tone left no room for argument.

Jean quickly stepped in. “Let’s focus. We can’t afford to splinter as a team.”

Hank nodded, his voice steady. “Logan’s right. Returning to their base may provide us with the evidence we need to finally pin this on Killebrew and SAC. We should move quickly before they clear out any remaining traces.”

Ororo glanced at Charles. “And Maya?”

Charles’ face softened slightly, though his voice carried the weight of leadership. “We will lay her to rest in the garden this morning. She was one of us, and she deserves to be honored as such. Afterward, we’ll plan the mission in detail.”

The group exchanged solemn glances, unified in their grief but also in their determination.

Logan gave your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “We’ll figure this out,” he said quietly, his gaze meeting yours for a fleeting moment.

The room fell into a heavy silence after Charles dismissed the team, his parting words lingering in the air. "Pay your respects for Maya soon. She deserves it." One by one, everyone stood, somber and weighed down by grief.

You pushed yourself to your feet, still clutching your arms around your body for some semblance of comfort. The ache in your chest was unbearable, making it hard to even look up at the others. Logan followed closely behind as you stepped toward the door. By the time you exited the room, his palm rested gently on your back.

The touch was warm, steady—an anchor in the storm you felt raging inside. A shiver ran down your spine, one you couldn’t suppress. His voice broke through the haze, low and calm, “You should eat something.”

The suggestion felt like an afterthought in your daze, but it stirred a faint awareness of the emptiness in your stomach. You were too weak to respond, too wrapped up in your own exhaustion, but Logan’s sharp ears caught the faint growl from your stomach.

His lips twitched slightly, just enough for you to catch the ghost of a smirk. “I could make omelette and potatoes,” he said casually, as though trying to lighten the mood. “Like that one time, huh?”

A faint memory surfaced—Logan fumbling in the kitchen, you relentlessly judging his cooking skills for making something so basic. You’d teased back then, earning a gruff chuckle and a sarcastic quip.

Now, despite the heaviness pressing down on you, a weak laugh escaped your lips. You glanced up at him, catching the faint amusement in his expression. His palm remained firm against your back, grounding you, while his other hand rested casually in his pocket.

But the small moment was shattered by a sharp voice from behind.

“Right, keep her tame like your little pet.” Scott’s words were venomous, startling you as you turned, not realizing he’d been walking behind you. Logan froze mid-step, his hand dropping from your back as he turned to face Scott.

“Whatddya said?” Logan’s voice was low, his tone barely controlled, carrying an edge that made you flinch.

Scott met his glare with one of his own, unflinching. “You heard me, I said keep her tame like you—”

Scott never got to finish. Logan’s fist flew faster than you could react, connecting with Scott’s jaw in a sickening crack. You flinched, your body tensing as the scene unfolded before you.

Scott staggered back, his hand shooting to his jaw as he scowled. Without hesitation, he retaliated, throwing a punch that caught Logan square on the nose. Blood trickled down, but Logan barely seemed to notice. Instead, he grabbed Scott by the jacket, pulling him close.

You swear you couldn't care less about their immature behavior, you got too much on your plate and barely enough energy to raise your voice for them to hear. “Please, just stop” you said weakly, stepping forward, but the two were frozen in place before you could intervene.

You blinked in confusion, your voice uncertain as you took a cautious step closer. “Logan?” you called, your concern palpable as you inspected their frozen forms. Logan’s hand remained clenched around Scott’s jacket, while Scott’s arm hovered mid-air, inches away from his visor.

From behind you, a familiar voice broke the tense silence, tinged with exasperation. “They’re getting too old for this,” Jean said dryly, stepping into view.

“Since when could you do that?” you asked, glancing back to see Jean emerging from the meeting room.

She shrugged, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Professor taught me a while ago.” She clicked her tongue, strolling closer to inspect the scene. “Look at them.”

Despite yourself, a weak chuckle escaped. Jean nudged you lightly with her shoulder. “It’s kind of amusing,” you admitted, your voice soft but tinged with a hint of laughter.

Jean smirked, crossing her arms. “Aren’t they?”

Charles and Hank appeared from the hallway, both glancing at the spectacle before them. Charles sighed but didn’t stop strolling, his voice calm but firm. “Jean, let the poor gentlemen go.”

Hank shook his head but said nothing, following Charles without breaking stride. Jean tilted her head slightly, and in an instant, Logan and Scott were moving again.

Logan blinked, releasing his grip on Scott’s jacket as he stepped back. Scott stopped his arm mid-motion, lowering it reluctantly as he glared at Logan.

“Not cool,” Logan muttered toward Jean, his voice rough with irritation.

Jean just smirked, her attention already shifting. Logan turned back to you, his features softening immediately. “C’mon,” he said, tilting his head and gesturing for you to follow.

You clutched your arms tighter around yourself, your exhaustion evident as you walked to his side. His palm found its place on your back again, steady and comforting.

Jean and Scott trailed behind, their voices low.

“Are they together or something?” Scott whispered, his tone both bitter and curious.

Jean gave him a look, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I don’t know.”

Scott frowned, skeptical. “What do you mean you don’t know? You’re a telepath.”

Jean rolled her eyes, her smile widening as she glanced ahead at you and Logan. “Some things are better left unanswered, Scott.”

The garden was silent except for the soft rustling of leaves in the morning breeze. The students and staff of Xavier’s School had gathered in somber rows, faces etched with grief. The small tombstone stood freshly planted in the earth, its inscription simple yet heartbreaking:

Maya Fernandez

Gone but not forgotten.

You stared at it, the weight in your chest growing heavier with each passing second. The sound of Charles’s voice delivering a eulogy barely registered, muffled as though you were underwater. You couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere else, not even as the team began to disperse after the ceremony.

Logan stood across from you, his arms crossed tightly, his sharp eyes fixed on your still figure. He hadn’t moved since the gathering started, lingering at a respectful distance but watching you closely.

One by one, the others left the garden, the sound of footsteps fading into the background. Ororo cast a last glance in your direction, her expression heavy with sympathy before walking away. Jean lingered for a moment, exchanging a look with Logan before she too left, leaving only the two of you standing there.

Logan’s boots crunched softly against the gravel as he approached. His presence was solid, grounding, but he hesitated as he neared you. His jaw worked, as though he was trying to find words, but nothing came out.

Finally, he stood by your side, silent. His hand hovered near your back before finally resting there, his touch tentative at first, seeking permission. When you didn’t flinch or pull away, his palm slid gently to the curve of your waist. The pressure was light but steady, a silent invitation to let him be there for you.

Without looking up to him, you stepped closer, leaning into his side. The movement was instinctive, your body desperate for some kind of support as your legs threatened to give out beneath you. Logan’s arm tightened around you slightly, anchoring you to him.

Your left arm reached around his back, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. The closeness sent a faint shiver down his spine, but he said nothing, letting you take what you needed. Your right hand rested against his chest, your fingers brushing over the soft shirt he wore as you wiped away tears that seemed endless.

“You're always have been the resilient one,” Logan murmured, voice low and rough but carrying a gentleness.

You shook your head. “Not today.”

He exhaled deeply, his hand moving in small, soothing circles against your waist. “And that’s okay,” he said quietly.

The words, simple as they were, broke through the dam holding back your emotions. You buried your face against his chest, muffling the quiet sobs that racked your body. Logan stayed still, his broad frame solid against you, his warmth a shield against the cold weight of grief.

By the time darkness had fallen, the team was already prepared for a calculated mission to find Ellie, putting the grief of Maya aside to save, hopefully, the living one. You'd picked a twin pair of handguns—glossy black—safely secured in their holsters.

The Blackbird took off as usual, with Hank in the pilot’s seat and Ororo co-piloting. Logan, as always, secured his favorite spot next to you on the long bench in the cabin, various straps holding his broad frame in place.

However, unlike the rest of the team, Logan wasn’t dressed in the usual black suit—no tactical gear, no uniform. He just sat there in a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt alongside with black leather jacket, like he didn’t have a single care in the world.

Scott eyed him, his lips twitching in mild exasperation. "You're seriously not going to wear the team gear?" he asked, an eyebrow arched.

Logan shot him a quick glance, his usual smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Nah. Don't need it."

"Party pooper," Scott muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Logan didn’t bother responding, keeping his focus on the mission ahead.

It was a smooth takeoff at first, but soon heavy clouds began shaking the Blackbird. Despite its sophisticated technology, it couldn’t fully defy nature's might. The turbulence wasn’t unfamiliar to you, but the violent tremors made even you a bit uneasy. Your mutation would protect you if anything happened, but you couldn't help wishing this particular flight would remain incident-free. After all, this plane carried the only people you truly cared about in your half-century of life.

You glanced toward the cockpit. Hank’s normally calm demeanor was strained as he gave Ororo instructions, his voice steady but clipped. Ororo nodded, adjusting the controls to lower the jet and avoid the worst of the storm. Their calm professionalism grounded you, even as the turbulence worsened.

Jean and Scott sat across from you and Logan. Scott’s expression was unreadable behind those glasses, his posture relaxed as though turbulence were just a minor inconvenience. Jean, gripping her seatbelt casually, seemed equally unbothered. Your gaze drifted left to Logan, though, and what you saw surprised you.

His eyes were shut tight, his jaw clenched, and his hands gripped the safety straps like they were his lifeline. A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his normally robust complexion had turned pale. His lips were pressed together so hard they almost disappeared.

He was scared. That was new.

“For someone who can’t die, you kinda sucks at it,” you quipped, hoping to lighten the mood.

Logan’s eyes snapped open, meeting yours, but the stress etched into his features didn’t soften. The lines on his forehead deepened as he shook his head silently, a clear sign he wasn’t in the mood for your jokes.

Realizing you’d misread the situation, you softened your tone. “It’s just a little turbulence,” you said, trying to reassure him, but the jet betrayed you as another violent jolt rocked the cabin. Logan grunted, his grip tightening on the straps.

“Little’s a strong word,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his knuckles white from the pressure of his grip. His breathing grew short and shallow, a rhythm that immediately set off alarms in your mind.

“Logan, breathe,” you said gently, leaning closer. His eyes locked onto yours, and you exaggerated a deep, steady breath, silently urging him to follow. Slowly, he began to mimic you, his breathing evening out with each deliberate inhale and exhale. Another slight shake hit the jet, but this time he managed to stay calm, his breathing steady under your watchful gaze.

You nodded to him, and he returned the gesture before breaking eye contact, his hands finally relaxing their death grip on the straps. He let them slide down to rest on his thighs, his shoulders sagging as some tension left his body.

Then another violent jolt struck, causing Logan’s hands to clench into fists on his thighs. You caught snippets of conversation from the cockpit as Hank and Ororo discussed a change in altitude to escape the worst of the storm. Acting on instinct, you placed your hand over Logan’s right arm, the one gripping his thigh.

His gaze darted to your hand, a flicker of surprise and, perhaps, gratitude flashing across his face. Almost immediately, his grip relaxed, his arm going still under your touch. You rubbed small circles on his forearm with your thumb, a soothing motion that seemed to anchor him further.

From across the cabin, Jean caught your eye, her expression laced with quiet amusement. She smiled softly, and you pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling warmth creeping up your neck. You quickly shifted your focus back to Logan, whose arm beneath your palm now felt steadier, the tension in his body beginning to ebb away.

Jean turned slightly, nudging Scott with her shoulder. Without speaking, she sent him a telepathic message: "They’re going to end up together by the end of the week."

Scott glanced at her, raising an eyebrow in amusement. His thoughts answered hers with a teasing tone: "End of the week? Please. I give it forty-eight hours."

Jean raised an eyebrow back at him, her lips twitching in a restrained smile. "Oh yeah? Wanna bet?" The spark of challenge in her tone was unmistakable.

Scott smirked, meeting her gaze. "Sure. If I win, I’m picking the next Saturday movie night."

Jean’s nose wrinkled in mock disgust. "Ugh, not a three-hour boring war movies. Fine, but if I win, we’re going on a picnic Sunday morning. No excuses."

Scott tilted his head, feigning consideration before nodding. "Deal."

Their expressions mirrored a conspiratorial delight, both barely containing their amusement as they exchanged a subtle smile. Scott leaned back, looking smug, while Jean cast another knowing glance in your direction.

Neither you nor Logan noticed the silent exchange, too absorbed in the moment between you. Logan’s grip had relaxed completely now, and your thumb instinctively moved in small circles over his arm. Whatever storm lingered inside him seemed to settle under your touch.

Jean fought the urge to laugh, her amusement evident as she leaned slightly toward Scott. Telepathically, she added: "Better start picking your movie, Summers."

Scott's response came swiftly, with equal confidence. "Better packing that picnic basket, Grey."

The rough flight to the SAC headquarters had unsettled the team, though Logan hid it better than most. The turbulence seemed almost symbolic, foreshadowing the chaos they were about to face. When the Blackbird finally touched down, everyone was tense but laser-focused. Logan led the charge during the initial infiltration, his claws carving a silent, efficient path through the guards. Behind him, Ororo and Scott cleared the way for Hank and Jean to access the facility's systems. You followed suit, the rhythm of combat grounding you in the moment.

The team split up for efficiency. You found yourself alone, navigating the sterile hallways. The lab doors loomed ahead, and when you stepped inside, a sight far worse than you'd imagined greeted you.

Stacks of files and records lined the walls, their labels clinical and cold: Mutation Experimentation Logs, Specimen Decommission Reports. You hesitated, dread coiling in your gut. Pulling out a file at random, you scanned the contents, each word cutting deeper than the last.

The SAC wasn’t just experimenting on mutants—it was cross-breeding them with animals to create grotesque hybrids. Descriptions of failed experiments leaped off the page, detailing lives spent in agony before termination. Your breath hitched as you stumbled across a photo clipped to the file: a child, no older than ten, with reptilian scales covering half her body. The caption read: Deceased – Subject incompatible with human host.

Your hand trembled as you shut the file and grabbed another. This one bore a name you recognized—Ivan Sokolov. A pit formed in your stomach as your eyes skimmed through the familiar handwriting: Killebrew's.

"Subject terminated following loss of viability due to prolonged suppression of mutation. Will be sent to battlefield without request for funds. Further trials planned with new candidates."

The words blurred for a moment, but your gaze snapped back to a single phrase that sent a chill down your spine: "prolonged suppression of mutation."

Mutation? Ivan was a mutant?

Your breath caught, your pulse pounding as you scrambled to reread the lines, searching for anything that might explain. Ivan, your closest friend in that desolate sea of blood and cruelty, had never hinted at being anything other than human. He hadn’t had the enhanced strength or agility some mutants wore like badges. He hadn’t shown any signs of powers you could remember.

The realization struck like a thunderbolt—he never told you. Or perhaps, he couldn't. The military had kept his secret, used him just as they had used you. But why? What was his mutation? Questions clawed at your mind, unanswered and unanswerable, now that Ivan was gone.

Your vision blurred as you returned to the file, flipping through pages frantically. Buried amidst the clinical notes was a vague mention: "Unidentified genetic anomaly. Presumed linked to cognitive augmentation." Cognitive augmentation? Your chest tightened. Ivan had always been the strategist, the one who saw patterns, who seemed to anticipate moves before they happened.

The finality of Killebrew’s words—discarded like so many others—hit you with full force. He wasn’t just a casualty of war. He had been erased, his humanity stripped away in the same cruel experiments that had stolen so many others.

Ivan had been a flicker of light in your darkness, the anchor that kept you grounded when the horrors of the battlefield threatened to swallow you whole. And now, that light was snuffed out, leaving you alone with the knowledge of the secret he had carried to his grave.

Your hands shook as you shut the file. But this time, it wasn’t just grief. It was rage—cold, seething, unrelenting rage. Ivan had deserved better. They all had.

A sound behind you snapped you out of your daze. Whirling around, you saw Logan emerging from another hallway, flanked by four wide-eyed children. Their faces were pale, their thin bodies trembling with fear.

"There's more?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Another batch of kids these bastards managed to catch," Logan growled, his tone a mix of rage and quiet grief. “Still no sign of Ellie.”

Your jaw tightened. “Take them back to the jet. I'll keep looking.”

Logan's eyes narrowed. "Not alone, you're not."

“Logan,” you said firmly, your eyes locking with his. “They need you more than I do. I’ll manage.”

He stared at you for a moment, torn between arguing and trusting you. Finally, he relented. “Fine. Be careful.”

You nodded and moved past him, your steps purposeful despite the storm of emotions churning inside you.

Deeper into the facility, you found another lab, and your heart sank at the sight. Ellie sat inside a cage, her small frame curled up in a corner. A thick collar rested around her neck—the same mutation-suppressing device you knew all too well. Her tear-streaked face lifted at the sound of the door opening, and your chest tightened.

“Ellie…” you whispered, stepping closer, but your movement was halted by a voice that sent ice down your spine.

“They found a way to unlock your collar,” Killebrew said, emerging from the shadows with a smug smile. “Still playing the hero, them disgusting mutants band messed with your head.”

Your fists clenched at your sides. “Let her go.”

Killebrew ignored your demand, circling the room with calculated steps. “Do you ever stop to think, my dear? Everyone who comes near you ends up dead. Ivan. Your father. Your mother. You’re a curse.”

The mention of your parents made you freeze. “What did you say?”

He tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Your father’s betrayal was just the beginning, wasn’t it? But your mother—oh, she broke after his death. I heard she didn’t last long. A few months, maybe?”

The words sliced through you, but you refused to show weakness. “What did you do to Ivan?!” you hissed.

Killebrew chuckled, leaning casually against the workstation. “Face it—you’re nothing but a harbinger of death to those around you. Maybe your new guy can’t die this time, but I suspect something far worse than death is already creeping up on him. The big bad Wolverine with fire and flesh... Oh, they call you ‘Hollow’ now, don’t they? I have to admit, you two make such an exquisite pair.”

Rage boiled over. With a growl, you launched yourself at him. The fight was vicious, Killebrew surprisingly agile for his age. He dodged your first swing, reaching for a scalpel, but you knocked it away. As the scuffle continued, you kicked over the cage holding Ellie, breaking it open.

“Run!” you shouted at her. “Find the others!”

Ellie hesitated, her wide eyes darting between you and Killebrew. “Go!” you yelled, your voice raw. Finally, she bolted, disappearing into the hallway.

Killebrew used the distraction to strike, slamming a piece of equipment into your side. Pain flared, but you ignored it, throwing yourself back into the fight with renewed fury.

Ellie stumbled into Scott first. “I found her!” he called into the comms. “She’s alive, but we need to move. Everyone, back to the Blackbird!”

Jean and Hank joined quickly, carrying armfuls of documents. By the time they reached the jet, Logan was already there with the other children, his expression dark and searching.

“Where is she?” Logan barked, his eyes scanning the group. When no one answered, he yelled your name.

“She’ll manage,” Scott said firmly, strapping in. “We can’t risk the kids.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his rage simmering just below the surface. “Fine,” he snapped, storming out of the jet. Jean called after him, but he ignored her, leaping down and heading back toward the facility.

“Logan, wait!” she yelled again, but he was already gone.

Scott shook his head. “Start the engines,” he ordered, leaving no room for debate. The roar of the Blackbird filled the air as Logan disappeared into the woods, determined to bring you back.

That old age isn’t lying; Killebrew is slow and can’t put up with your fight for so long. You manage to tie him to the laboratory chair with cable and some rope—god knows for what. His ridiculous face whining in pain and gray hair striking under the harsh light is absolutely amusing.

You shake your head, the view is amusing, but you can’t shake the question out of your system. What the fuck happened to Ivan? So you pull a chair and sit across from him.

“What’d you do to Ivan?” you manage to ask calmly, despite the raging storm.

“Injected him with the formula I bought from Russia. It was so expensive, he was practically a waste of funds.”

“Waste of fucking funds?!” You grunt in disgust. “Why didn’t he ever tell me? Why didn’t you?”

Killebrew shakes his head, confused. “Tell you what?!” he yells in frustration.

“That he was a mutant?! All this time, I thought he was human. Some random guy that got tangled under the filthy US government military that he probably didn’t even know half of what was going on. And I just fucking find out he’s one of your projects, just like me. Why’d you keep it from me?” you cry in frustration.

Killebrew’s brows narrow together. “Why on earth would I fucking tell you that? I’m rather surprised he didn’t tell you,” he says, leaning back with the slightest grin forming on his lips.

You shake your head. Of course, he didn’t fucking care. And here you are, thinking he kept it all away for a reason, but it’s all on Ivan. He didn’t tell you anything, and you thought you knew him, only to be proven that you didn’t know him at all, years after he was gone.

You sit in silence, letting this new fact that alters a big part of your life sink in. Your head feels heavy, and it suddenly drops as you look at the floor.

A whole year, maybe even a little more than that, you were stationed together. Sure, a year is a pretty short time to get to know someone new, but it’s a different case when the only time you didn’t see each other was a week out of that one year. You and Ivan, alongside ten other human soldiers—or at least you thought they were human because now Ivan has you questioning everything—were stationed under that sergeant whose name you can barely remember. But you remember every minute you spent with Ivan.

He told you his father was in the military. It was a common ground that instantly clicked between you two. You remembered his witty jokes: “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? I bet ten dollars your father served.” To which you instantly replied, “And I bet you twenty your pops also served.” That day, you lost ten dollars but also gained another ten.

He’s from Montana, he told you that. His father served in the military and wanted him to be a real man and serve their country for being so kind to them as refugees. His father used to say their family owed America their lives, which you both laughed your asses off at. Owing America your life... what a shithole nightmare of a life to live.

He left Russia when he was six and never came back. He told you that. He pretty much fucking told you everything about his life because none of the other ten soldiers were fun to talk to. You did the same thing—told him pretty much everything about your life, even the experiments Killebrew had done and how they affected you. He had shared his sincere apology to you for it, but that was all.

You two lived the same life. He never told you that part. He never told you he was also an experiment, someone whose choices were taken and rights violated?

“So, Ivan’s father also sold his son to you?” you ask, finally breaking the heavy silence and lifting your head.

“Sold? He volunteered,” Killebrew says.

Before you can speak, Killebrew opens his mouth again. “It was because of you. He adored your ability and wanted to have what you have. That one week off, when all of Sergeant Cooper’s soldiers were sent back to regroup, Ivan willingly came to me. His body just rejected it.”

Your breath comes in shallow at another heartbreaking piece of information dropped like some atomic bomb on your head. What the actual fuck? Why would he fucking do that? His blood is actually on your hands? Gosh, he’s so fucking stupid—you should never have told him about your experiment.

You’re upset, angry about his decision. You can’t wrap your head around it. Just why? You feel like throwing the chair across the room. Your hands go up to your head, massaging your temples, then rest on your thighs as you bend slightly forward in the chair.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

As you’re distracted, too busy controlling your breath, Killebrew slips himself free with a piece of broken glass hidden under his white coat sleeve. He cuts the knot on his hand and lunges at you, stabbing you in the neck with the glass.

You scream in pain as he frees himself from the other knot. Your hand instinctively covers the stab wound, carefully pulling the glass out and letting your skin knit itself back together.

He runs toward one of the lab’s drawers and opens a metal door. You try to chase him but stop in horror at the sight of what he grabs.

A mutation inhibitor collar.

“One step closer, and you won’t fucking survive this time, bitch!” he spits, holding the collar out toward you as you stand a few steps away, raising your hands smartly to avoid getting caught in that shit again.

Fuck him.

You run toward him and lunge, knocking him in the stomach until his body drops with a loud thud onto the floor. You pin him in place, and he drops the collar.

Combat isn’t your strong suit, but right now, you want nothing more than to punch him bare in the face. Your fist curls, and you land a fat punch straight to his nose. He grunts in pain and manages to grab a piece of steel, smashing it into your head.

The fight isn't over. You slam Killebrew's head into the wall with a sickening thud, his skull making contact with the concrete. Не lets out a sharp cry of pain, but you don't stop. You keep smashing his head, again and again, until there's a small pool of blood trickling from the back of his skull. He slumps against the wall, his body barely staying upright, but still conscious.

Footsteps approach. Logan walks in, his gaze immediately locking onto the scene. He stops just in time to see you standing over Killebrew, his figure now small and pitiful, sitting and leaning against the wall, panting heavily.

"Hey," Logan calls your name softly. You turn at the sound of his voice. His expression softens when he sees you, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury. "You okay?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. His hand reaches for your shoulder briefly, giving you a comforting squeeze.

Logan looks down at Killebrew, who's still breathing heavily, his face twisted in pain. "Look at you two," Killebrew sneers, his voice ragged. "Gonna outlive every single person you knew on this earth, until nobody's left but the two of you. A match made in hell, an eternal damnation."

Logan glances at you, and you start walking away. He follows, his voice lowering. "Aren't you gonna finish the job?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Let him suffer."

Logan steps in front of you, halting your progress. "Woah, woah, what if someone finds him and rescues him?" He looks at you, concern flashing in his eyes.

You pause, eyes flickering to Killebrew as he struggles for breath. "If I kill him, I'm just proving his point," you murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

"You're not what he created," Logan's gaze softens as he processes your words. He nods in understanding. "If he survives, he won't stop."

"I know," you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "You might think I'm crazy, but I just... I'm proving this to myself. That I'm much better than him." Your gaze falls to the floor, your emotions a mess.

Logan steps closer, his breath steady, his tone gentle. "Do you want him dead?"

"Logan, I-"

"It's a yes or no question," he says cutting you off, more firm now, his voice low but unwavering.

You take a deep breath. "Yeah." You sigh, the word heavy on your chest.

Without another word, Logan walks past you, his figure casting a shadow over Killebrew's beaten form. He kneels down in front of Killebrew and curls his fist, bringing it to the man's chest. His claws emerge with a sharp, unmistakable snikt, and without hesitation, he stabs them right into Killebrew's heart.

The life drains from Killebrew's eyes, and his body goes limp. Logan pulls his claws out, the blood dripping slowly down his wrist. He retracts them, wiping his other palm across the blood-stained hand without a care in the world.

He stands up and looks at you, your eyes flickering with something, gratitude, maybe. He approaches you, his hand warm as it rests gently on your back.

"C'mon," he says softly. "Let's get outta here."

You nod, and together, you walk away, leaving the body of Killebrew behind.

The two of you walk down a desolate road, surrounded by dense woods whose name you don't even know. Glancing at your watch, you note it's half-past midnight. You still can’t believe Logan had no better plan for getting back to the mansion than walking. It’s freezing, and the single piece of black leather you’re wearing does nothing to help. And now, left alone with Logan again, you can’t ignore the awkwardness lingering between you two.

A question drums against your skull, one you’ve yet to address properly. You cringe at the thought of saying it out loud, but it keeps circling in your mind.

What the hell are we?

Maybe drop the "hell"—just what are we? Dear god, it sounds absolutely pathetic. Maybe Logan does this often, y’know, the casual thing. You’re not against it, but the idea doesn’t sit right with you. Especially since, well… it’s Logan. He gave you the best head you’ve ever had.

Or maybe it’s better left as is. No strings, no drama. No breakups, no obligations. Nobody gets left behind because there wasn’t anything to fulfill in the first place.

The two of you keep walking down the road. A few cars pass by, and Logan halfheartedly sticks his thumb out for a ride. You quickly point out that it’s not the brightest idea.

Then, a light catches your eye—a building, glowing in the dark with a bright orange sign. "You hungry?" you ask, nudging Logan with your shoulder and nodding toward the diner across the road, about a hundred yards away.

Katz Diner, the sign reads, gleaming through the gloom of night.

"We don’t have any money," Logan says, his boots crunching against the gravel.

"You don’t have any money," you reply, reaching into the pocket of your holster and pulling out two neatly folded hundred-dollar bills.

Logan scoffs, clearly amused. "You’re carryin’ cash around on a mission?"

"What? This is a survival kit." You flash him a wide smile, and his husky chuckle follows, warm and familiar against the cold night air.

The two of you finally make it to the diner, your steps quickening as the glowing orange sign promises warmth and food. But as you reach the glass door, the truth dawns on you. A "CLOSED" sign hangs in clear view, mocking your misplaced hope. You groan, your breath fogging up the glass as you clutch yourself against the biting cold.

"Asshole," you mutter under your breath, shivering as you glare at the locked door.

Logan glances down at you, his expression unreadable except for that flicker of mischief in his eyes. Without a word, you already know what he’s about to do.

"Logan, don’t—"

Before you can finish, his fist smashes through the glass. You flinch at the sound, but Logan barely reacts, calmly reaching through the jagged shards to unlock the door. Pushing it open, he gestures for you to go in first.

"You’ll have to leave the hundred bucks on a table," he says, stepping aside with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, walking past him into the dark, empty diner.

"We’re gonna get arrested," you tease, glancing around the quiet interior. Your gaze catches a red light from CCTV camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling.

"But maybe if there’s no footage," you quip, pulling your gun from its holster.

The loud crack of the gunshot shatters the stillness, and Logan startles, snapping his head toward you. "Geez, give a guy some warning, will ya?"

"Where’s the fun in that?" you reply with a grin, holstering your weapon as you take stock of the diner.

Behind the counter, you push open the swinging door to the kitchen. A quick glance around reveals a treasure trove of ingredients—raw chicken, beef, potatoes, eggs, butter, pasta, tomatoes, sausages, bacon, and more.

"Jackpot," you mutter, pulling a few items off the shelves.

Logan steps into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you inspect the food. "You planning to cook or hoard?"

You toss a bag of potatoes at him, which he catches with ease. "Both," you shoot back.

Within minutes, the two of you are working side by side, a light banter filling the room as you chop, stir, and fry. Logan handles the meat, seasoning and grilling the chicken and bacon with surprising skill. Meanwhile, you focus on the carbs, boiling pasta and mashing potatoes.

"You're getting better with that," you remark, watching as Logan flips the bacon in a pan.

"Had to learn," he replies with a shrug. "Ain't gonna risk the chance of you callin' my meal closer to inedible, again..."

You chuckle recalling your own joke to him "I really did hit a nerve there huh?" you tease.

Logan smirks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Wound still fresh"

The playful tone lingers in the air as you finish cooking, the warm scent of food filling the room. You walk from the kitchen to the table first, balancing your plate carefully, eager to sit and eat. But as you place it down, Logan appears behind you like a shadow, plate in hand, following without a word.

You turn back toward the kitchen, remembering your forgotten glass of water, and nearly crash into him. You freeze as he blocks your way, standing so close that you feel his warmth against the cold air of the diner. Startled, you glance up, and for a brief moment, his heavy, tired eyes bore into yours. It’s like he’s seeing through you, and you’re not sure if you want to look away or keep holding his gaze.

The tension breaks awkwardly as you both shift to move, but in the same direction, cutting each other off. You chuckle nervously. "You want water?"

Logan’s lips twitch into a soft smile, rare and disarming. "Yeah."

You gesture to his right, stepping aside to give him space. "Okay, I’ll go this way, you go that way," you say, slipping past him and retreating to grab two glasses.

Your breath feels shaky as you fill the glasses, your mind stuck on that split-second where he had looked at you. Only if he knew how much he was affecting you, how much you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you.

When you return, Logan is already seated, waiting. You slide the glass to his side of the table, his quiet "Thanks" breaking the silence as you take your seat.

You eat in silence at first, avoiding his gaze, your eyes fixed on your plate. The chicken looks unappetizing, under-seasoned and bland, but you tell yourself it’s fine—you’ve had worse.

Logan, on the other hand, occasionally glances up from his plate to you. His fork pauses midway to his mouth as he studies you, the way your focus stays locked on your food, the way you keep your head down.

Finally, he speaks. "Y’alright?" His voice is steady, cutting through the quiet scrape of utensils against plates.

You shrug without looking up. "Yeah."

Your gaze shifts to the window beside you, the yellow streetlight casting a faint glow against the black of night. It’s easier to stare at that than at him. After a moment, you bring your attention back to your plate, but the awkward weight of his question still lingers in the air.

Logan’s fork clinks softly as he sets it down, leaning back in the booth. His sharp eyes don’t leave you. "What’s wrong?" he asks again, his voice gentler this time, but persistent.

"Nothing," you reply quickly, a little too quickly, cutting another piece of your chicken as though focusing on the task would shield you from his gaze.

He doesn’t let it go. "Look at me," he grumbles, his tone low but firm, the kind that makes your hand freeze mid-motion.

You hesitate, but eventually tilt your head, meeting his eyes. They’re heavy with something you can’t quite put into words—concern, maybe frustration, but most of all, care.

"What’s wrong?" he repeats, this time softer, your name slipping from his lips like an anchor, grounding you.

You hate that. Hate how much his concern cuts through your walls, hate the way it makes your chest tighten. It’s unbearable, so you break the contact, dropping your gaze back to your plate.

"I don’t know," you admit, your voice small, barely above a whisper. You spear the last bite of chicken and shove it into your mouth, hoping to end the conversation.

But Logan doesn’t move. He doesn’t pick his fork back up, doesn’t shift his attention elsewhere. You can feel him watching you, his patience unnerving.

"You do," he mutters, his voice calm but resolute.

You glance up briefly, your brow furrowing. "No, I don’t," you insist, the words coming out sharper than you intended.

Logan leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. "You’re not a good liar, y’know that?"

The corner of your mouth twitches, but you don’t let the smile break through. "Guess I need more practice."

His lips quirk in a faint smile, but his eyes remain serious. "You don’t need practice. You need to talk."

You shake your head, suddenly feeling exposed under his unwavering attention. "Not now, Logan. Can we just… drop it?"

For a moment, it seems like he might push further, but then he exhales heavily, leaning back again. "Fine," he says, though his tone suggests he’s not letting it go forever.

You stood up quickly, desperate to put some space between you and Logan, the weight of everything hanging in the air. You felt a mix of frustration, confusion, and something you couldn’t quite place. But before you could walk away, his voice stopped you.

"Hey."

You froze, heart pounding, and turned to face him. His eyes were locked onto you, steady and unyielding. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out your mother’s necklace, holding it out to you. The sight of it hit you like a punch to the gut, and you could barely process it.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stepped closer. "Where the hell did you find that?" you demanded, your voice coming out shakier than you intended as you snatched the necklace from his arm.

"Your bathroom’s floor," Logan said, his tone almost too casual, like it was no big deal. A smirk tugged at his lips, but there was no hint of apology.

"My bathroom’s floor?" You repeated, disbelief taking over. You could feel your anger rising, the frustration bubbling up. "What the fuck, Logan? Why the hell would you put it in your pocket?!"

Logan's eyes narrowed, and he shifted, standing up from the booth in one smooth motion. He was inches from you now, his body tense with frustration. "Jesus, calm down. It’s just a necklace."

"Just a necklace?" You snapped, voice rising. "It’s my mother’s! You don’t just take things and shove them in your pocket like it doesn’t matter!"

You stood there, fury coursing through your veins, your heart pounding in your chest as Logan continued to stand in front of you. He looked almost unbothered, his stance relaxed, but his eyes—his eyes were anything but.

"You always do this," you said, stepping closer, your voice low but trembling with frustration. "You make me feel like I’m the one losing my mind while you—" you gestured sharply at him, "just stand there like nothing’s wrong!"

Logan’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into loose fists at his sides. "And you think I’m not losing my mind too? You think I don’t feel this—" he waved vaguely between you both, his voice rising, "whatever the hell this is?"

"This?" you shot back, your chest tightening. "This is you pushing and pulling untill I don’t even know where I stand with you!"

His laugh was bitter, almost a scoff. "Yeah? Well, try being on this side of it. Try waking up every day thinking—" He stopped abruptly, his words catching, and his eyes darted away.

"Thinking what?" you demanded, stepping closer. "Say it, Logan. For once, just say it!"

His head snapped back toward you, and his voice dropped, low and rough, like he was forcing the words out. "Thinking that if I get too close, I’m gonna ruin you. And if I stay away, I’ll hate myself for the rest of my goddamn life."

The air between you felt like it might break. Your pulse pounded in your ears, but you couldn’t look away from him.

"Then what do you want me to do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips parted, but the words seemed to stick, his throat working as he searched for something to say.

"Stay," he murmured raw and pleading. "For once in your damn life, just stay."

You shake your head hesitantly. "Why?" Your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes stinging as you fight back tears.

Logan steps closer, the warmth of his body radiating toward you. His gaze searches your face as if memorizing every detail, etching it into his mind.

"Because we need each other," he says, his voice rough but steady. "You and I... we can be quite destructive on our own. But together—" he pauses, his jaw tightening as if the words are caught in his throat, "we cancel that out."

Your fingers tighten around the heart-shaped pendant in your hand. He reaches for you, his touch impossibly gentle, and you resist, unwilling to let go of this fragile barrier. But the tenderness in his hand disarms you, and slowly, your grip softens.

Logan carefully takes the necklace, holding it as though it’s something sacred. His gaze softens as it locks onto yours. "I've been the best version of myself when I'm with you. And I think—no, I know—you feel the same."

He steps behind you, his movements slow, deliberate, as he fastens the necklace around your neck. You close your eyes, his nearness overwhelming. The familiar scent of him—leather, smoke, and something distinctly Logan—wraps around you, grounding you and pulling you apart at the same time.

"Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll stop," he says softly.

You don’t answer. Words fail you as his fingers brush the back of your neck and lift your ponytail for adjusting the clasp. Your breath catches when his hand grazes your waist, the touch featherlight but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

His voice drops, barely audible. "Just one chance. That’s all I’m asking."

You lean into his touch despite yourself, your head tilting slightly as his breath warms the curve of your neck. When his lips hover, hesitating, your resolve weakens entirely.

"Logan..." you whisper, though you’re not sure what you’re asking for.

He exhales sharply, the sound laced with longing. His palm rests firmly on your waist, and his other hand grazes the zipper of your suit. Your heart pounds as he begins to pull it down, his touch deliberate and maddeningly slow.

Unable to take the tension any longer, you turn to face him, the suit unzipped halfway. His hands find your waist again as you rest yours on his shoulders, grounding yourself against the storm building between you.

"What do you want?" you ask, your voice trembling as his forehead touches yours, his nose brushing against you in the smallest, softest gesture.

"You," he breathes. "I want you."

His hand cups your jaw, his thumb brushing your skin with a gentleness that sends heat spiraling through your chest. Before either of you can think twice, you close the gap, your lips crashing into his.

Logan kisses you back with equal intensity, his lips moving against yours in a way that feels both desperate and certain. It’s messy, passionate, and utterly consuming. When your tongue slips past his lips, he meets it eagerly, a low growl escaping his throat.

Without warning, a wild thought flickers through your mind, and you bite down on his bottom lip hard enough to hurt and leave an impression. Logan pulls back with a sharp inhale, his eyes wide with surprise.

You grin, mischief playing on your lips as you watch the small wound heal almost instantly. He licks the blood from his lip tasting the iron.

He cooed "Easy there" the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk.

You grab his wrist after he moves to wipe the blood away and bring his finger to your lips. Slowly, deliberately, you lick the crimson from his skin, your eyes never leaving his.

Logan lets out a low, disbelieving chuckle. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he growls, his voice thick with desire.

"Then I’ll make sure it’s slow and satisfying," you reply, your voice a whisper dripping with challenge.

He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, his lips crashing into yours again, hungrier this time. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you feel his body tense against yours as if holding himself back from unraveling completely.

"Logan," you moan against his lips.

"Say it again," he murmurs, his voice raw as his lips trail down to the edge of your jaw.

Your breath stutters. "Logan..."

The way he reacts, the way his name seems to break something inside him, sends your heart spiraling.

Logan pulls back suddenly, his gaze darting to something behind the counter. His expression is unreadable as he peeks over, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Logan, what—?” you start, but before you can finish, a familiar tune blasts through the speakers.

'I could stay awake... just to hear you breathing...

Watchin’ you smile while you are sleeping.'

Your eyes widen as you recognize the opening chords of Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing by Aerosmith fill the room.

Logan steps back toward you, a mischievous grin on his face. With a slow, deliberate motion, he extends his arm, inviting you to take it.

“What are you doing?” you ask, half-laughing, but you instinctively reach out, letting him guide your hand to his.

“Dance with me,” he says confidently, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking your head but allowing him to pull you closer.

“Didn’t take you for a sucker of romance,” you tease, laughing softly as he spins you around the empty diner.

His movements are surprisingly smooth, his hand guiding yours to his shoulder while the other stays firmly at your waist. “Yeah, well,” he smirks, “I don’t even know how to dance.”

“Sure you don’t,” you reply with a grin, noticing how effortlessly he leads.

'Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure.....'

As the music swells, your eyes meet his, and the warmth in his gaze makes your chest tighten. This song—it hits every nerve just right.

And then, as if on cue, the two of you burst out in unison:

“Don’t wanna close my eyes…”

Your voice is off-key, and so is his, but neither of you care. You’re singing with abandon, your joy filling the room.

“I don’t wanna fall asleep, ‘cause I’ll miss you, babe!”

Logan laughs, a deep, husky sound that makes your stomach flutter, and you can’t help but join in.

“And I don’t wanna miss a thing!”

You yell out the lyrics, your voices echoing through the diner. Logan suddenly lifts you off your feet, spinning you around, and you shriek with laughter, clinging to his shoulders.

“‘Cause even when I dream of you…” Logan sings the line. You laugh so hard tears prick your eyes.

“The sweetest dream will never do…”

You quiet down, your smile fading into something more genuine as he carries you in a slow, swaying circle.

“I’d still miss you, babe…”

Your chest tightens, emotion welling up as you press closer, resting your forehead against his.

“And I don’t wanna miss a thing,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

Logan’s grin softens, and he pulls you even closer. His chin rests gently on top of your head as the two of you move in slow, easy steps to the rhythm of the song. Your hand squeezes his arm, and you close your eyes, letting the moment take over.

The beat of his heart is steady beneath your ear, grounding you. His hand at your waist tightens, his touch warm and reassuring. For the first time in a long time, everything feels right—no fights, no pain, just the two of you and this perfect, fleeting moment.

'Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we’re together,

And I just wanna stay with you,

In this moment forever, forever and ever.'

The song continues to pour through the diner speakers as the two of you move in slow, deliberate steps. You pull your head away from Logan’s chest, your eyes flickering with unspoken gratitude. He holds your gaze, leaning in closer, and brushes his lips against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

Outside the diner, across the road, Scott and Jean stand in their gear, clearly fresh from their mission. Ellie and the children have been safely returned to the mansion, and with the tracker embedded in your suit, it wasn’t hard for them to find you and Logan in the middle of nowhere.

What they didn’t expect was… this.

Under the diner’s bright lights and with its large glass windows, you and Logan are clearly visible, completely absorbed in each other.

Scott lets out an incredulous sigh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he mutters.

Jean chuckles, nudging him playfully. “Man, can’t believe we both lost this one,” Scott grumbles.

Jean smirks. “Lovebirds,” she teases, crossing her arms as they continue watching the scene unfold.

Scott huffs, stepping off the curb. “Alright, let’s break this up.”

The two of them approach the diner, standing awkwardly just outside the glass. They exchange a glance, silently debating what to do. Finally, Scott knocks loudly on the glass, startling you both mid-kiss.

You jolt, pulling away from Logan as your heart jumps into your throat. “Fucking hell,” you mutter, your face flushing as you spot Scott and Jean standing there, Scott looking thoroughly unimpressed and Jean offering a thin, awkward smile.

Logan doesn’t look even remotely phased. He’d sensed their presence long before the music even started, but he hadn’t cared. With a soft grunt, he reaches behind you and zips your black leather suit back up, taking his sweet time.

Scott and Jean step carefully through the broken glass on the diner floor, their expressions half-amused and half-annoyed.

“I had high hopes for you two,” Scott says, his tone dry as he surveys the scene.

Logan raises an eyebrow, his hand still resting on your lower back. “You’ve got a point, Summers, or are you just here to gawk?”

Jean laughs lightly, shaking her head. “Don’t mind him. He’s just sulking because he bet you’d get together in the next forty-eight hours.”

Scott scowls. “And she bet it’d take at least a week,” he grumbles, gesturing at Jean. “Turns out, we were both wrong.”

You blink in disbelief, glancing at Logan, who looks utterly amused. He lets out a low, satisfied chuckle.

“Guess you two underestimated us,” he says, flashing a smug grin before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips—right in front of them.

Your cheeks warm, but you can’t help the wide smile spreading across your face as you lean into Logan’s side.

Scott groans, throwing his hands up. “Alright, get a room, you two. Your ride’s outside. Time to go home.” He turns, wrapping an arm around Jean’s shoulders as they head for the door.

'Don’t wanna close my eyes…

I don’t wanna fall asleep…

I don’t wanna miss a thing,'

the song continues, fading behind you as Logan intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Home,” you murmur with a soft smile, glancing up at him.

Logan’s lips press gently against your temple, his touch grounding and warm.

“Home indeed,” he echoes, voice filled with quiet contentment.

Together, you walk out of the diner, leaving the music behind and a two-hundred-dollar bill on the counter by the radio.

[renee-writer]

Fourteen years ago tonight, I held my son in my arms for the last time.

He passed away just four days after receiving his routine four-month vaccinations.

I will never forget finding his body. The time on the clock, 12:06am, is forever seared into my memory.

I will never forget begging, pleading, screaming to God to bring him back to life.

I will never forget standing in the street in the pouring rain, watching my husband peel out in his Camaro with Mason on his lap, pumping his chest as he drove. (Shock does strange things, and his instinct was to get him to the ER down the street as quickly as possible.)

I will never forget realizing that I couldn’t drive after him, because we had two daughters still sleeping inside, and I couldn’t leave them behind. (I will never understand how they slept through our screams.)

I will never forget walking in to the trauma room in the hospital and seeing MY baby— MY BEAUTIFUL BABY!!!! — laying there, intubated, hooked up to so many things, and a silent heart monitor every time the nurses stopped pumping his chest. (God bless those nurses. I will always be grateful for their efforts.)

I will never forget watching my husband collapse to the ground, as his eyes glazed over, and I wondered for a moment if I would ever get him back from that moment.

I will never forget watching Mason’s leg swelling up, after more than an hour of resuscitation efforts (including 19 doses of epinephrine), and realizing the drugs were going nowhere, because they obviously couldn’t circulate because he was obviously DEAD beyond any CPR. 😭

I will never forget seeing my husband rocking back and forth on the ground as I asked the doctor if there was even a point to keep trying, as I’d noticed Mason’s leg was swollen. (It felt like no one wanted to make that call, and who can blame them?)

I will never forget hearing them call the time of death. I was shocked they really did that.

It felt like every drop of air got sucked out of the room in that moment.

I will never forget holding Mason for the last time. The nauseating feel of his dead weight, of his cold skin, and of trying to kiss around the breathing tube they had to leave in for autopsy. I was tried to cuddle with him "one last time," desperately pretending it was like I had every night of his life.

I will never forget asking the nurse to hold him while we left, so I didn’t have to just sit him down and leave him on the stretcher. She took him like he was a living baby, patting his little butt and swaying as I walked out of the ER. I will always be grateful for her humanity and love to me in that moment.

I will never forget a single second of this night. Not for as long as I live.

This night is why I delved into questioning WHY babies die suddenly. I just wanted to make sure that whatever happened to my baby, didn’t happen to anyone else’s baby!

I just didn’t expect the cause to be one of the most controversial topics of my time.

I’ve spent the last 14 years deeply immersed in the health freedom movement—from the grassroots efforts of the 2010s to working with some of the largest organizations in this space. And I can tell you, the number of people who are still unaware of the risks associated with vaccines is staggering.

Please, I am begging you—do your research.

If you don't know where to start, start with the book "Dissolving Illusions" and move on to the VAXXED film trilogy. I think you'll find your way from there.

The biggest regret of my life was giving my son those shots.

It is soul-shattering that I don't get to see him grow up.

And I will fight until my last breath to make sure that people are informed and know the risks.

Mason Forrest Bundy 💛

10/22/10 - 3/5/11

(This was the last photo I ever took of Mason. 3/4/11.)

RIP little man

[yamikawas]

JSYK I feel those kisses you give your phone screen 💛 You’re so adorable. I’ll hold your cute face in my hands and wipe those tears with my thumbs. You are Yoomie’s precious darling. There isn’t anyone else that matters to me. ⚡️

uuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAUAUAUAUSDISUFIGHDJFKGHDJFFJDJFDJFLSJFLSFKJDLSJDJFKFKSJXCJDJSBFBFDBBDJFFKGDHJDJFJKDSKDJFJDMSMFNDMXNDKSFN<<3<3<3<3>33<>33&<3<3<3<4<3<4<3<3<3<3>3><<<3<3<<<33<<22<3<3<3<<3<3<3<3<3<3<33<3<3

[mindofharry]

In which bucky realises the mistake he made and does everything in his power to get you back.

losing you masterlist: here!

smut!! fluff!! angst!! i’m so fucking in love with this series. mean!bucky, sex and a bit of grovelling! ALSO!!! thank you for 2k, i never expected to get this far with this page. writing has always been a passion for me so thank you guys for taking time out of your day to read my stuff. i appreciate and love you all immensely <3 happy reading!

The first thing bucky notices about you not being here, is the how quiet and lonely his apartment is. Usually, your moans, whimpers and giggles fill the small space. Not anymore. The only noise he can hear is you saying those words to him.

“You’re selfish and mean. And i deserve better”

It felt like it was ringing in his ear, no matter how loud the tv is or the children running up and down the hall, it was on a continuous loop. Selfish. Mean. Deserve better. It was meant to be no strings attached, something to let off a little steam. But then bucky got those butterflies, he wanted to take you dancing, take you to meet his friends. He didn’t like the feeling, so he didn’t the only thing he knew how to do.

Push you away.

Bucky didn’t like how he felt with you, he couldn’t understand it. He felt like he couldn’t be that person for you no matter how fucking hard he tried, bucky couldn’t be the one you cuddled up with after a stressful day. He couldn’t be the one cooking dinner for you. And he most definitely can’t be the person loving you, he’s just not programmed for that. Bucky hasn’t felt love in decades. He doesn’t know how to process it yet.

Bucky knew what he did was wrong and now laying on the ground, his back against the hard wood, the only thing he wanted was you. Y/N.

Bucky wanted Y/N.

He decided then and there, he would fix himself up, go to his therapist. And get you back.

Back in your apartment, you were still in your dress, only this time your make up was smudged and your date was cancelled. Who were you kidding? Nobody could replace bucky barnes, nobody. Fuck, you love him so much. This feeling, it’s so big. It feel like it’s taking up all of your body, this fire so big that no one can put out. Bucky is a drug, and you’ve definitely become addicted.

After what felt like hours staring at your wall, you decide it’s best to head to bed and just forget about what a disaster this night has been.

“So” Dr Raynor said, crossing her legs over. Bucky was sat in front of her, his legs bouncing up and down as his therapist tried to figure him out. Bucky hated therapy. He hated everything to do with it, he would rather be put in jail than do this bullshit sharing feelings thing.

But if he wanted any chance of getting you back, in his bed, kissing him than he would do it.

Bucky barnes was officially smitten.

“Tell me” Dr Raynor said, leaning foward. “What’s going on, james?” She asked and bucky sighed placing a hand over his eyes.

“I need help” He said and Dr Raynor nodded. “Well, yeah. That much is obvious” She teased making bucky roll his eyes.

“With a girl” He said and his therapist grunted leaning back in her seat. Bucky hasn’t been this embarrassed since middle school when he peed his pants and had to go home early, everyone laughed at him in the playground. He never forgot that, but right now, his therapist trying to keep her laughs in made him feel a little small and fragile.

“Fine. I’ll find someone else” He mumbled, moving to get up. Dr Raynor settled herself down and held her hand up to stop him. “Oh, be quiet. Tell me about this girl” She said putting her notebook down. Bucky looked down at his hands and smiled.

It almost startled the therapist, she’d never seen him smile like that. Or ever, for that matter.

“Y/N” He started.

“Y/N is the most beautiful and wise woman i’ve ever met” He said. “Always there for me, willing to do just about anything i asked her to do. Fuck, she’s the best thing that’s happened to me, since well ever” Bucky said and the therapist nodded.

“But i fucked it up. Said somethings i didn’t mean and now she won’t even look me in the eye. I was so shitty to her just because i couldn’t admit my own feelings.” Bucky groaned and Dr raynor nodded agreeing.

“James, what do you want me to tell you? You messed up, now go and apologise” She said and buckys eyes widened. “I can’t just apologise to her” He said and his therapist lifted her hand up.

“Exactly. Problem solved”

Bucky made a noise of complaint while dr raynor packed up her stuff. “See you next week, lover boy” she said walking out of the room and leaving bucky to his own thoughts.

Flowers? Chocolates? Dancing? A poem? What do women like you, like these days? God, he’s still way too new in this world to be thinking about these things. But he really fucking needs you. He needs you and your jokes, you and your witty nature.

Bucky just needs you, and he’s about to do anything in his power to get you back, starting with an apology.

You were sitting in your living room a glass of wine in your hand and new girl on in the background. Your mind was somewhere else, you’ve just felt off all day. You keep zoning out, not being able to concentrate. Is this what a broken heart feels like? A knock on the door brings out of your thoughts and back to reality. A shitty fucking reality. You sigh and put your wine down on the table and make your way over the front door, you nearly tripped over your stiletto heels on the way there. You didn’t move them last night because you were so exhausted and out of it.

Opening the door you see bucky. Just the man you didn’t want to see, you begin to close the door in his face when his foot blocks it. “Please, just hear me out” He begged and you sighed crossing your arms over your chest.

“Can i come in?” Bucky asked and you scoffed.

“Why should i let you come in? Do you remember what you did the last time?” You said and bucky placed a hand over his eyes, obviously frustrated. You didn’t understand why, he made your place in his life pretty clear.

“I should come in because i need to apologise to you. For everything. The way i treated you and the things i said. I need to apologise, so please let me in”

You sighed and opened up the door wider and walked down the hallway. You sat back down on the couch taking a gulp of you wine. You were so easy, you thought. You barley put up a fight, you should’ve just closed the door in his face. But you did want to hear what he had to say, what bullshit apology he’d come up with.

“So?” You said and bucky nodded sitting beside you.

“I miss you” He started and you rolled your eyes. “No, fuck. I do miss you, but i’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry” Bucky said grabbing your hand. You wanted to pull away but you just couldn’t, his hand felt so good in yours. You leaned over and put your wine on the coffee table. Bucky took that as permission to take your other hand.

“I had feelings for you, no i have feelings for you. I just, i’m not good at expressing myself, i’m working on it. My therapist told me to get you flowers and shit, but i left them in my apartment and this is just a whole mess” Bucky ranted, you had to bite your lip to make you not burst out with laughter.

“You talked about to your therapist?” You asked, giggling. Fuck, even your laugh is beautiful. What is there not love about you?

“I’m sorry” He said, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “I have feelings for you, and i didn’t know how to express that. So i pushed you away and treated you so badly. I’m going to apologise for that until the day i die. I just, i like you a lot Y/N” he said and you could feel your cheeks burn.

You really weren’t expecting that.

“My thought process was that i would never be that person, you know that boyfriend who’s ready to cook dinner and take the dogs for a walk” He said and you nodded understand.

“But i’m willing to do that for you, if you’d give me another chance”

You looked up at him, staring into those beautiful wide eyes. This is what you’ve been waiting for.

“Bucky....”

He moved closer to you bringing a hand to your cheek. “Please, i have hundreds of flowers and like 10 boxes of chocolates back in my apartment. Come back with me? Please?” He asked, so much vulnerability could be heard. You sighed and looked around.

You didn’t deserve what happened, but you know he’s sorry. Maybe a little more grovelling? Make up sex is the best, though. You contemplate a little longer and then nod.

“Yeah, i’ll stay at yours for a bit”

Bucky nearly cried when you said that. Maybe he’d actually have a chance.

He helped you up from the couch and watched you get your shoes. He could get use to this. “You ready?” He asked holding out his hand, you nodded taking it. It felt nice to be wanted.

After a short walk to buckys apartment, your met with (literally hundreds) of yellow flowers. You could cry, he did this all for you? You lift your hand to your mouth and look around the room.

“Do you hate it? I can get better-“

You interrupt him with a peck to the lips. He was shocked, but he didn’t hesitate with kissing you back. He placed both of his hands on the side of your head and as you gasped, he slipped his tongue in.

“Fuck, i missed you” you said in between kisses, you moved your hands to his chest. Bucky pulled away and moved back.

“I just want you to know, that i wasn’t planning on seducing you or anything. If you want i have sex we will, if you don’t, then we’ll watch a movie. There’s no pressure” He said reassuring you. You smirked and pecked his lips.

“Why don’t we go to your bedroom?”

Bucky pulls you along to his room, lifting you up once he opens the door. “Your room is messy” You said and Bucky laughed. “Hasn’t been the same without you” He said and you pouted, kissing his lips.

“I’m sorry about that, let me help you?” You said taking your shirt off, leaving you only in your pjs short and bare breasts. Bucky was staring at you intently, making your nipples harden. He reached out and ran his fingers across your nipples making you moan with pleasure. His finger was cold and just what you needed.

“Strip and then you’re going to ride me. Been too long princess” Bucky said and you nodded quickly taking your shorts and skimpy underwear off.

“Fuck” Bucky said as you lay down on the bed, legs wide open. You were dripping wet, your hands coming down to play with yourself a little. “You’re gorgeous,” He said, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“Seems like you’re wet enough for me, yeah? i’ll play with you more later” He said and you nodded, just wanting him to be in you.

Bucky rolled over and took a condom out from the door, he quickly got out of his clothes and you almost moaned at the sight of him putting on that condom. He really does like hot doing anything.

Bucky lays down his head on his pillow and you quickly and swiftly move to sit on his lap, your knees either side of him.

You placed his cock, in your dripping pussy and loved the sound he made. Bucky groaned, his hands coming to your hips immediately, to guide you at a good pace. Your hands moved to his chest, scratching at it slightly, bucky moaned at that too. Pain kink, you figured that out pretty quickly. You began to move your hips and created a good rhythm.

“Oh, god” You whimpered, as you bounced on Bucky's cock.

“Missed you, and this” Bucky said and you nodded, your hips bucking.

You begin to move faster and faster, the bed frame hitting against the wall and bucky groans and your whimpers the only thing you can hear. God, you missed him and his cock so much. Bucky is so deep inside of you, you can feel everything. He’s so good at this, sometimes he doesn’t even have to try.

“This…. is so good…..” You said whimpering, leaning down to peck his lips. Bucky responded, moving his hands to your breasts and giving them a squeeze.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, bucking his hips up fucking you faster. You nodded and moaned.

“Please! Oh fuck” You screamed, feeling that pleasure start to build up. As the both of you came down from your highs, bucky brought you into his chest.

“I’m never losing you again”

Taglist: @formulamendes @ityagirljay @josegandulfo @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @beminetokeep @jbcalway @lxdyred @idkwhttocallmysrlf <33

[swtki]

HP Boys: Surprise Pregnancy Head Cannons

Summary: The HP boys and their reaction to their s/o (afab) being pregnant when its not planned.

A/N: This takes place post Hogwarts so all characters are 18+, though no real smut happens in this so its not an 18+ fic.

WARNINGS: UNPLANNED PREGNANCY, MENTIONS OF PRO CHOICE OPINIONS, MENTIONS OF SEX IN LITE TERMS, SWEARING, FLUFF, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, ALSO THIS IS SUPER LONG SORRY LOL

Draco

So everything is going great for the happy couple, you two just moved into a flat together and are working normal jobs, drinking wine like adults.

And sure, Draco knows he wants to marry you, but he knows you’re not ready to settle down like that so he just plans and dreams.

Due to poor choices, when you’re late by two weeks, you know what it probably is.

Draco doesn’t even notice that you ran out to the store and came back and hid in the bathroom for 10 minutes. CEO of minding his own business ig

You just kinda...walk up to him and hand him all 3 tests while your eyes fill with tears because what if he demands you get an abortion?

Or what if he fucks off to god knows where?

But instead he just looks at you with the most un-draco like smile. Like his face was soft and it looked like he could cry any moment.

“Oh my god,” He says, putting his hand on your belly, “I can be ready for this, but if you aren’t then we can you know...”

“No, I want it” then both of you rejoice bc yay baby!

Cut to 6 months later when your feet hurt so bad you have to lay down and watch while Draco fails to put a crib together.

He eventually gets it done tho.

And when the time comes, he’s built and arranged everything for your bundle of joy.

Harry

So you guys are probably already married, but with everything at the ministry going on, it makes Harry less than a family man.

You both agree that it’s probably better to wait so you can be home and yk...raise it.

Well smart man Harry forgets that to not have a kid you need to use protection.

So of course when your period is late you don’t think about it, until its four weeks late.

That night, you and Harry are laying in bed, and thats when you tell him.

“Harry..I’m late.”

“Late for what?” headass.

You: 😳😐

Him: 👁👁😲😲

He’s hesitant to say anything, because he knows its ultimitley up to you what happens with it until its out.

“I think I want to keep it...you know it wont remember much for the first year and a half so if things are stressful it will be okay and-“

“Love...Its going to be perfect”

Mf built the crib in like 45 minutes I swear.

And of course he forced you to keep up with your vitamins, pre natal care, and appointments.

Swear tho you’re about to kill him because cofFeE

But the way he holds your baby 🥺 its his most valued thing ever now.

Ron

Ron is iffy on the kid thing sometimes.

He does want them, but only later when you guys have lived and travled.

So no, you two haven’t planned nor is it even in the picture when your wedding roles around.

It’s in the early days of the marriage when you see his family at the burrow on the way back from the honeymoon.

And of course Molly knows

Because Weasleys are hyperfertile I swear.

She takes you into the kitchen and puts her hands on your arms, shes got that big Mrs.Weasley smile on too.

“I knew it!” She says and pulls you in for a hug, “How far dear??”

You’re just standing there like🧍🏻

“I can see it by the way you glow! Oh my you and my Ron must be so happy!” This woman doesn’t notice that you’re confused.

“Wait what? Mrs. Weasley what are you-?” Then you count the days, “Oh. Well I guess I just found out for myself”

Her face falls slightly, but then she tells you can make you a potion that will tell you if you are or not, stan.

The stupid potion turns green when you spit into it, so everything is confirmed.

That night, you and Ron are getting ready for bed in the guest room and you decide to tell him.

“Ron, sweetie. We need to talk.” He looks like he’s gonna start crying but sits next to you on the bed.

“Y/N...I know its scary but please, we just got married I don’t want to divorce quite just yet 🥺🥺”

“Ron I-“ you start smiling, “I’m pregnant you dufus.”

He just freezes, for a while. Not saying anything, he just looks at the wall with his mouth ajar.

So you get up and go to Ginny.

“Gin, I broke him.”

“Ew, I don’t want to know about how you and him”

“No, I told him that I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah that would do it. Just I don’t know... Give him a minute?”

You give him several, getting a glass of water then heading back up to the room.

Ginny was right, he needed a minute.

“I don’t...I wasn’t...you were.?”

“You don’t have to stay, but I think we can do it. Plus, you would disapoint your mom if you left so...”

“Okay...we’ll do it. I’ll be the best damn Father you have ever seen.” He says, talking to your womb.

Well...he’s a father I’ll give him that.

Pro of having a Weasley baby: free crib thats already put together.

Even if it looks like a death trap.

“We’ll put some blankets over it don’t worry”

You know how some Dads hold their parters hand during the delivery? Yeah he got sick and was moral support from the outside.

To be fair, you weren’t screaming in pleasure by any means.

Scary. But beautiful.

He shows the kid to everyone, he might be more in love with the baby than he is with you.

Ron see’s the appeal of having kids now.

Neville

Moving in with your boyfriend is always fun, right up until you guys go at it so much you forget protection more than once.

You think about it, then move on with your day.

Until the doctor calls, then “oh fuck”

Romance Neville bf

“Why aren’t you having any wine? I thought it was your favorite?”

“I don’t think fetal alcohol syndrome is my favorite.” BRO HE SPAT

But he looks up with tears in his eyes, and runs over to you to grasp you in a hug.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant! Oh my - We’re gonna be parents!! Oh my god we’re gonna be parents oh-“ Que you petting his hair till he’s calm again.

Lets be honest, this man probably swapped the herbology books for the parenting guides.

“Well I mean I’m just wondering if we should go with this color or this one”

“Nev, it doesn’t matter. Our baby will not care.”

“I read in my book that Infants actually can recognize mood in-“

He won’t let you do anything during your pregnancy.

Gotta love a man who cries because he loves you so much and you’re having his kid.

“I never had a father, what if I do it wrong? What if the baby hates me and runs away at seven?”

“We’ve got quite a lot of time before then.”

He was there during delivery, letting you crush his hand like a champ.

You can’t help but cry when you see him sleeping on the floor next to the crib, its so sweet.

Fred

You two most likely already had two kids, so you decided to wait a bit so your hands weren’t quite full.

Well...your body decided not to wait.

A test provides the two lines, another wild child.

The two toddlers already run around like thing one and thing two, only with red hair.

I think Fred would gladly make the family dinner, and wear an apron. He’d own it, as he should.

But mf gotta not drop the salad bowl when you tell him of the fetus inside you.

“Fred we are going to have a bee-ay-bee-why.”

Your five year old has just begun to spell 😐

He’s happy tho.

Like over the fuckin moon.

He buys the two kids big brother/sister shirts too 🥺🥺

He knows the drill pretty well, so he isn’t too worried about the future.

But its funny that he still freaks out about the crib and feeding chair since he gave it away, you know because you guys werent having another kid.

He packed a hospital bag and kept it in the trunk, counting down the days.

Hours of delivery (He just sat back and held your hand) only to end up with a room full of 7 Weasley family members.

Fred always said that 3 was his lucky number :)

George

You guys were taking it slow, no marriage until you both felt it was time. And certainly no children before that.

Well you know...things changed when the test was positive.

You slid it over on the table, tears pooling in your eyes. He was stunned and quiet, which made you burst out sobbing because you knew that neither of you planned on having a baby.

But to your surprise he starts to smile.

“I want whatever you want, I’m staying by your side no matter what.”

“I mean...would it really be so bad? A house, a kid, a dog?” He holds your hand as you think aloud.

You both give it a week to think it over and the virdict is to keep it.

Thats when he decides he has to marry you, asap because he loves you and will never let you go especially now.

He loves to gush about the carrier of his child, to him you are a godess.

He’s the Dad with a predestination complex.

“Y/N, I just see him being a star quiditch player”

“George, we don’t know if it’s a him.”

He rolls his eyes “Okay then I can see her being a star-“

He made Hermione take you out for a movie date so he could rearrange your bedroom, since you only had a single bedroom flat.

You come back to a new set up including a cot.

Damn pregnancy hormones make brain go 🥺😭😭

He freaks when your water breaks lol

ceo of driving like a maniac to the hospital.

He can’t hold your hand, he’s pacing back and forth, sweating and maybe crying though he’ll never admit to it.

You get the joy of watching him cuddle the baby while refusing to give your child to you.

“George I’d like to hold-“

“No, you need your sleep honey, don’t worry”

Hogging the child.

Cedric

Its no secret that Cedric wants a baby someday.

And he makes it clear your wedding will be spectacular too.

However, finding out you’re pregnant the week of your dream wedding was a shock.

A shock that made you bang your head into the wall because how could you be so stupid?? We had a plan??

So you decide to wait until after the wedding, that way it wont add onto the stress (happy stress) of the wedding.

Cedric keeps trying to fill your glass at the reception, to which you kindly refuse saying you want to remember the night entirely.

Yeah he’s like 🤨 mhm okay.

You can only pick at the dinner because ew salmon doesn’t sound like an option if you want to keep the contents of your stomach.

As everyone waves goodbye to the car, and you both set off into married life, he leans over.

“I may be out of my mind, but are you...?”

“Pregnant.” His face lights up, pulling you into a hug.

Finally, your car pulls up to a small cottage with lush garden scapes all around, putting a hand out, he walks you both from the car to the door.

“Ced, where are we?”

“Home.”

Somehow it was perfect with Cedric, even when it was rushed.

He loved talking to your womb, even if it was weird that he was talking about the babies future brothers and sisters.

“Cedric, slow down. We haven’t even had this one yet”

Basically he is father of the year before he’s a full father.

He’s there while you deliver, holding your hand and telling you how great you’re doing.

He doesn’t even complain when you insult him <3.

He updates you on everything.

If his eyes aren’t on that child, he’s either asleep or dead.

I think Cedric was meant to be a family man, because he loves everything about being one.

Taglist: @truly-insatiable @amourtentiaa @imdoingathingmom @annasdani @anchoeritic @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @cedricsyellowscarf @faeinorbit

[love-over-matter]

Dating JJ Maybank...

summery: In which these are random things JJ Maybank may do in a relationship.

·JJ is for sure one of those guys who kisses their girl when they get exited.(season 2 spoilers) For example: In season 2 when they got the golden cross out from the inside of the boat and everybody cheered; I feel like JJ would yelp out in happiness then grab you by the waist and kiss you passionately.

·Let me just tell you right now, this boy is so damn touch starved. Because of his situation with his parents he never got much attention and love as a child. So, when he met you, everything changed. Cuddling. Yes. Hugging. Absolutely. I think it’s safe to say that this boys love language is physical touch.

·I feel like nobody talks about his sass enough in this fandom. This boy is the sass queen. You could ask him to do a simple task like handing your water bottle over to your from the counter and he will respond with. “Why do I have to waist my numbered breaths on this earth just to walk 10 feet for a water bottle?”

“Oh, my God, JJ. You’re so dramatic!”

·Like I said before, JJ is a very affectionate person; so don’t be surprised if he scared you half to death by wrapping his arms around your waist from behind while making breakfast/lunch/dinner. But, when he does this he likes to dig his nose through your hair and leave small kisses to your neck. He loves the small giggle that comes from you when he does that.

·When JJ wants to find a more creative way of getting you over to him without putting his arm around your waist (which he loves anyway) or tugging your arm, he loved to pull you close by the belt loops on your jeans/shorts. He mostly does this when he is pulling you in for a sweet kiss on your lips.

·JJ doesn’t admit it but he can get very protective very fast. For example: during the hunt for the royal merchant JJ always had his guard up, especially when the cops got involved. Even before the hunt, if a kook were to approach you during a kegger with bad intensions, JJ would be taking a protective stains with you slightly behind him. Another setting where JJ is without a doubt protective is his very own home, because where home is is where his dad is. JJ doesn’t want you getting any part of his fathers wrath. He would be able to live with himself if he let his dad lay a finger on you. 

·In all honesty, JJ isn’t a jealous guy. He trusts you with every bone in his body. He knows that if a guy were to make a move you were quick to kindly shut him down. That is one of the things he absolutely loves about you. You are a loyal friend and partner.

·If you can’t tell, JJ is the crazy, fun friend. So he has no problem with you showing your wild side with the crew. There has been a few nights where everyone had been black out drunk and you and JJ started dancing on the tables outside of the chateau. The only way you all remember that moment in your lives was because Sarah had been recording it all on her phone, showing the laughter and crazy dances you and JJ were doing that you would only feel comfortable doing with each other.

·I really hope your windows don’t break easily because this man will be throwing so many rocks at them in the middle of the night. You could be sleeping peacefully since forever until you hear the sound of loud pebbled against your window. 

“JJ, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Princesse, did I wake you up?”

·The pet names bro. He calls you names like Princesse, Beautiful/Gorgeous, Darling, Babe/Baby, Honey, and Sweetheart. You call him names like Hansom, Hotty, Babe/Baby, Blondie, Love, and Darling.

·JJ is literally your emotional support animal. He will sit there and listen to you scream and cry for hours as he rocks you back and forth, planting soft kisses to the top of your head. The same goes for you. When JJ needs to cry and get all of his emotions out, you are the first one there. He will cry for hours into your chest as you lay him down and rub his back.

·JJ loves every part of you. In fact, the first thing he does when he sees you after a hard day, he will sit you down and kiss every inch of you he can reach. He loves your present and loves to know that you’re, so that is a great reminder for him. If he had to pick a body part he would choose your eyes. It was a close tie between your hands but he just couldn’t get over the feeling of getting lost inside the deep sea of wonder.

·He absolutely loves it when you steel his shirts or hats. He may act annoyed but he finds it so adorable. The way his shirt flop over your shoulders and fall past your thigh. When you slip his hats over your head, it tends to fall over your eyes.

·Showing affection with the group has never been hard for him. He lets you sit on his lap, play with his rings, he also puts his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, having moments where he would just look at you and cup your cheek, stroking it lovingly. 

·You guys for sure have a playlist of your favorite songs together. 

·I feel like his favorite cuddle position is spooning. He loves holding your small figure close and smelling your light perfume in your hair. But, he also likes to be held close as well. He would put his head on your chest and his arms around your waist. He just wants to feel safe and your touch heals all of his pain. 

[teenyweenynightghost]

The one with a slow-burn and an impatient author- Final Chapter

Author's Note: So It was quite satisfying to finally finish this. Keep in mind it's midnight and quite literally the last thing I wanted to do was edit it so there might be some errors

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: The final piece of the story is placed on this puzzled which took me two weeks (I suggest reading the other parts first)

Warnings: F is for fluffy

Part 1/2/3

Y/n woke up in an all too familiar room, surrounded by Ethan’s strong arms, as she felt his steady breath fall and rise against her back. She nuzzled further into him, feeling him tighten his grip around her.

Y/n was feeling as content and blissful as ever. In moments like this she thought that maybe, Ethan could have felt something for her too. She let her mind wander away to an impossible reality. One where she could wake up like this every single morning, feel his warm, pillowy lips on hers as he would lead her to the kitchen and make her a delicious breakfast. Sometimes, her feelings for Ethan were overwhelming, but his presence, quite ironically, grounded her. It calmed her down in the roughest of moments, just like he had last night.

Feeling an intense urge to see him, Y/n tried to slowly shift around and face him, examining every dent and curve of his face while he peacefully slept.

“You know, some people find it weird to be stared at while they sleep.” He mumbled, a cute smile forming on his face.

“Can’t help it.” She snorted and shrugged helplessly, staring at his lips.

“I could say the same thing for you.” His voice softened as he reached out a hand to brush a strand away from her face, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Then say it.”

He puffed and lightly shook her face.

“You’re unbelievably gorgeous and mesmerizing, Y/n. I could stare at you for hours on end.”

She giggled internally, her heart acting like a rollercoaster as it pumped blood all throughout her body with the speed of light.

“That’s better.” She answered, barely containing a smile.

“I bet. You’re beaming, cara mia.” He responded, staring lovingly into her eyes.

Y/n snorted and rolled her head, before hiding it in the crook of his neck and throwing a leg over him.

He returned the hug and continued to hold her for a while. The soft chirping of birds could be heard from outside, the sun rays filtering through the curtains, lighting up the room. Y/n was on cloud nine, to say the least, and she only prayed this moment would never end.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” She whispered against Ethan’s neck, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger.

“I don’t.” He answered, confusing Y/n. She pulled away and looked at him, trying to figure out if he wasn’t enjoying the moment as much as she was. The doubt must have been obvious on her face, because he immediately cupped her cheek and breathed a few no’s. “If this moment was eternal, what would be so special about it?” “Oh gods, you scared me.” She let out a relieved breath, shaking her head before returning to their previous position. His laugh sent vibrations all throughout Y/n’s body, making her shiver.

“We should get up soon, Y/n.”

“You crazy bastard, are you hallucinating?”

Ethan puffed and rolled on top of her, earning a yelp.

“My ribs! MY ribs! Ethan my RIBS!!!” She shouted out, faking the pain.

“Oh so when Vic posts anything you are quick to comment OOO stEP on Me HoTTiE but I can’t even lay on you for a second?” He rambled on, sending her the puppy-est eyes ever.

“You dramatic little puppy, do those contexts feel like cuddling ones to you?”

He raised his eyebrows and smirked, looking at her with a devilish gaze.

“Hey I mean If you two wanna f-”

“No no no no no SHHHH. You’re ruining the wholesomeness.” Y/n was quick to interrupt him, rolling them both around so she would be sat on top of him.

“We really should go.”

“Quiet, Ethan.”

“I’ll drag you downstairs If I have to.”

“You wouldn't dare.” She breathed out, already relaxing in his embrace.

Ethan was peacefully sipping on a warm cup of coffee, leaned against a counter, while Y/n was sending him a death glare from across the kitchen, her arms crossed, angrily stomping her foot.

“I really don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. I remember warning you.” He claimed, sending her a nonchalant shrug.

“I didn’t think you were serious!” She argued, shuddering from the cold air filling the room.

“Aha, see! You stopped listening to me so I moved from words to actions.”

“You’re evil.” Y/n deadpanned, grabbing a cup of coffee for herself.

“Maybe. But when I said those words to Vic they were followed by two drumsticks hitting her straight in the head. I firmly believe your version of the event was better.”

Y/n scoffed and downed her drink before leaving the mug in the sink and heading towards Ethan.

“I hate you.” She whispered as he hugged her tightly, bringing her impossibly close to his body.

“OH! What a pleasant view!” Damiano’s loud voice made the pair pull apart quickly, staring at him exasperated. Behind him was Vic, her hair dishevelled as she held Chili in her arms.

She had a shit-eating grin on her face as she got closer to where Damiano was sitting, and rested on a stool as well.

“So, which one of you confessed?” She asked cheekily, her face falling when she saw both of their reactions.

“What?” Ethan exclaimed, looking at Y/n confused.

Her heart dropped so far into the ground, it perhaps said a quick hello to Hades before returning to her body and beating 10 times as fast.

She started playing with the hem of her shirt as an awkward silence enveloped the room.

“Hey Y/n, could you come outside real quick?” Ethan asked, not facing anyone, his voice slightly groggy.

Y/n noticed him squeezing his eyes like he does whenever he’s anxious. A dreadful feeling started forming in her stomach, a lump forming in her throat too.

Vic muttered a helpless sorry as Y/n passed her, feeling like she was sent to her death.

They both made it outside and stood awkwardly on the terrace, staring at the view in front of them.

Y/n felt like it was too much, knowing what was about to happen, and she breathed out shakily, turning to Ethan with teary eyes.

“Ethan, I’m so s-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence as Ethan’s soft lips captured hers in a passionate kiss, shaking them both to their core. Y/n felt as If they were in a romance book, fireworks exploding all around them, the pair being the only people left in the world.

They pulled apart, breathless and ecstatic.

“Y/n, I love you. I have loved you from the second I laid my eyes on you, all this time ago, and you were the only one on my mind ever since.” He let it all out in one breath, gasping for air when he was finished, still cupping Y/n’s face.

She felt as If she could cry, hearing him say all those words brought the most buried dreams of her’s to life. A single, warm tear fell down her cold cheek, being immediately brushed away by Ethan’s thumb.

“I love you too, Ethan.”

The End

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay@ginny-lily@messyhairday-me@cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking@superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx

[binnieboyswhore]

Studio Time SCB

Pairing: Changbin x Reader Genre: smut Word count:1,649 Warnings: It’s changbin smut so theres light choking and some cockwarming at the end. (if theres anything else i need to put let me know please!) Authors note: It’s been 2 years since I’ve written anything so please be nice, this is gunna be ruff lmao 

Please if you are under the age of 18 do not interact. Thank you :)

You sat on the studio couch watching Changbin hunched over his laptop mixing a new song Chan had left for him. You didn’t mind being here at first but that was 8 hours ago and on a Saturday that Changbin had promised you a movie marathon. 

You huffed to yourself while looking down at your phone. Changbin, oblivious to you with headphones on both ears, had a wrinkled up forehead from concentrating. You got up from the couch  walking towards him grabbing his shoulder causing him to remove his headphones from one ear and turn his chair towards you. In this new position you took your shot and sat on his lap straddling his thighs.

“I know baby, give me like an hour more” he says looking up at you and rubbing the side of your thigh.

“I just wanted to tell you some fun facts that I read about to give you a little break.” You said fixing your skirt so it’s spread out around you.

He took his headphones and put them beside his laptop to give you his undivided attention, “okay you’ve got 10 minutes and then I have to get back to work.” He says grabbing the back of your thighs. The touch dampens your underwear a bit and you try to control your posture. 

You grab either side of his face rubbing his cheeks with your thumbs. “Well first fun fact is I love you,” you bent down and kissed his nose. 

“And I love your cheeks,” you slightly pinch them before kissing them. 

He let out a little chuckle trying to reach your lips to kiss you but you lay your index finger on his lips as if to hush him, “right now is my time,” you say before continuing. 

“And this chin,” your thumb grazing it ever so lightly, “I love this chin.” You kiss it. 

Your hands going down his shoulders and biceps in a massaging manor, “and these arms, God, I fucking love these arms.” You try to stop yourself from moaning at the last minute but he flexes under your hands and your brain brakes for a second. He loved the effect he had on you even while he was a bit bashful about it with pink cheeks. 

You continued on, grabbing his hands, “and your hands,” you said remembering how they touched you a few nights ago, pulling your hair and pinning you against walls, only further dampening your underwear. “God do I love these hands and how versatile they are.” You say before kissing his palms.

You feel him shutter a bit as you run your hands down his body, “I also love love this body.” You say looking into his eyes, feeling how bad he wants to kiss you. 

You bring your hands to clasp around his neck, “and finally my personal favorite, your thighs. I am madly in love your thighs'' you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down, as his Jean clad thigh made contact with you through your underwear you let out a needy moan. 

His hands automatically went to your waist as he let a grunt out, you can feel you’ve worked him up quite a bit. You sat there staring at him a bit surprised at your own actions then one of his hands creeped it’s way up your torso and around your throat. 

The little pressure he applied made your eyes roll back, “fuck, y/n I love you too.” He groaned out before attaching his lips to yours. 

The kiss filled with nothing but desperation and need for each other. Your hands grabbing at his hoodie trying to find the bottom to slide your hands under, once you do he flinches back.

“Are you okay?” You asked shocked

“Ya, your hands are just so cold.” He grabs your hands cupping them in his while he blows hot air into them. You stared down at him, watching how caring he was towards you made your heart swell ten fold for him.

You bent over to whisper in his ear, him still blowing in your hands, “Hey, can I get my hands back, I’m trying to fuck my boyfriend.” You kissed right under his ear as he groaned and released your hands.

“Thank you.” You whispered kissing along his cheek to his mouth where he thrusted his body into it making you moan at the contact of his bulge rubbing against you.

“Jesus” you let out between moans. Binnie slips his hand at the nape of your neck pulling your hair and exposing your neck.

“Funny that’s not my name” he nearly growled into your ear sucking a hickey into the side of your throat. You whimper at the new contact reaching between the two of you to unzip his pants and pull his member out giving him a few pumps to make sure he’s hard.

You tuck his zipper and button inside his pants to make sure it doesn’t get caught on anything. You move your underwear over just enough and line him up with your entrance. Lowering yourself slowly, taking binnie inch by inch, you both breath hard and let out strings of moans till he was bottomed out. Slowly you start to roll your hips on top of him causing him to lean his head back against his chair letting out a huff of breath and a soft “fuck”.

You place your hands on top of his shoulders and he places his on your hips helping you gain a rhythm as you lift yourself up and down. Binnie goes to lift your shirt but you force his hands away, “someone might come in” you try to get out between heavy breaths and moans.

He shakes his head, “it's Saturday nobody is here.”

He looks at you waiting for an answer patiently, you shake your head yes trusting him. He slides your shirt over your head throwing it in the direction of the couch. He leans himself forward, angling himself in you from a new angle causing you to let out a rather slutty moan and grinding down on him a bit harder. He grabs on to your sides as you continue to grind into him.

“Fuck I don’t know if i’m going to be able to last much longer if you keep doing that.” He starts decorating your chest with kisses and bruises. You moan out clenching your walls around him as he makes his way to your breast, leaving wet open mouth kisses across your very sensitive niples. You begin to focus on the motion of your hips and the feeling of his mouth and start to feel overwhelmed. The very familiar knot in your tummy building up and up till you can’t hold it back for much longer.

“Binnie,” you moan out, “I’ve gotta… i’m gunna… fuck binnie you’re gunna make me come.”

He grunts at the feeling of you clenching around him and your whines driving him insane. He digs his fingers into your back as he looks up at you, pupils blown out, “fuck baby cum for me.”

He bites into the side of your breast causing you to allow your long awaited orgasm to tear through your body. Since nobody was in the building you didn’t stay quiet, screaming Binnies name over and over, yelling about how good he made you feel. Chanting his name as if you were trying to summon him during some spell, which in some way you were.

Changbin feeding off your screams and unable to withstand the fluttering of your walls around his dick held you close to his chest as he very sloppily rutted his hips into you, releasing with a series of grunts and moans as he moaned out “y/n you feel so good.”

After you have both completely ridden out your highs you go to get off of him but he grabs your hips, “Grab your shirt and I’ll clean us up, I’ll give you my hoodie. Then I want you to sit right here till I’m finished with this track and then I promise we can go  home.” He patted his lap.

You get up grabbing your shirt and tossing it to Binnie as he tossed his hoodie at you. Sliding it on you immediately start smelling the sleeves, “You’re entirely too cute right now for someone who just climbed on top of me and fucked her own brains out like that.” Binnie said smirking and dragging your wet shirt up the inside of your thighs and gently cleaning you off.

You wait till he’s finished cleaning himself off and tossed your shirt next to his bag. You raise your leg to straddle him again, watching him pump himself again. He notices the questioning look on your face, “You always like it when I let you cockwarm after, I figured since i’ve taken forever you can. Of course only if you want to” he says sheepishly

You smile at him leaning to kiss him, “Please.” You whispered on his lips. Getting on his lap he slips himself inside gracing your aching walls so slow you let out a small whimper.

“If you’re not ready for round two dont make those pretty noises.” He said hands on your hips, guiding you down making sure you can’t rut them against him.

“I just like the way you make me feel so whole when you’re in me like this.” You barely whisper your warm breath hitting his neck.

Once he bottoms out in you you cuddle into his neck closing your eyes. He slides his headphones back on his head leaving one off his ear in case you needed something while he finished the track.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he rubs your back “we’re only gonna be here for a little while longer.”

“Mmm I’m not.” you mumble into his neck before closing your eyes to rest them.

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (5)

all parts in the master list

Note: ‘Someday We’ll Know’ by New Radicals is the song for this part so I recommend listening it while you read, and also regularly because it is a beautiful song - also editing is trash once again because I just write and post like a maniac would

++

The pounding headache you’d woken up with hours ago had now reduced itself to a dull ache behind your eyebrows. It was enough to distract you from the arm wrapped around your waist but not enough to ignore the hard member pressed against the small of your back. 

You knew who was laying behind you and while you knew it was a perfectly natural thing, you felt shock due to the fact the Matthew Tkachuk was sporting wood while cuddled up with your body. 

His breathing was irregular and his heart was beating fast. You could tell because his face was crushed into your neck and his chest was pressed against your back. 

He was awake. 

You had to unwrap yourself from his body without giving him any indication that you knew about his ‘situation.’

*

“Fuck, I really need to pee!” 

She hurried out of the bed and booked it to the bathroom at such a breakneck speed that Matthew was sure he’d gotten away with it. 

He rolled onto his stomach and willed his boner away. This was not the time or place for anything sexual.

Matthew heard the sound of the shower turn on, sighing in relief that she was beginning her day and was probably completely unaware of what had just taken place. 

He sighed heavily and, remembering that there was no game and an evening practice, went back to sleep.

*

“Nope,” you muttered to yourself as the hot water ran down your chest, “this is not a thing I should be feeling. Absolutely fucking not.”

You couldn’t get the feeling of Matthew’s body pressed against yours out of your head and it was annoying because you knew better. 

The civility between the two of you was just blossoming and the last thing you needed was to think about his naked body while the two of you tiptoed around each other masquerading as friends for everyone else’s sake. 

No, it wasn’t a thing. You wouldn’t let it be. You weren’t attracted to him, there was no way you could be. Up until a day or two ago, he wasn’t even nice to you. You weren’t into assholes, and there was no doubt in your mind that Matthew was an asshole. 

While you were on it, what the fuck was with the shit he’d said last night? He wanted to cuddle with you, when twenty-four hours prior he had you sleeping alone on the floor?

Sure, he’d been drunk but still, it didn’t make any fucking sense. As far as you knew, you were not Matthew’s type and didn’t think even drunk him would have any interest in touching you. 

You chalked it up to just another reason you could say he was an asshole decided to read anything into it. 

The once hot water was now barely room temperature by the time you’d worked through your thoughts and you almost finished your shower until another thing, not from the night before, came to mind.

‘You ought to get dressed though, you’ve got goosebumps like all over your body.’

‘All over your body.’

Why was he looking so closely in the first place? 

*

Matthew knocked on the bathroom door to make sure he was completely alone, though hours had gone by and there was no way she was still in the shower.

The lack of response from the other side of the door made had him smiling as he entered to brush his teeth and take his own shower. 

He noted the few products that weren’t his sitting on the shower shelf. Picking up one of the bottles and rolling it in his hand he wondered out loud, “Lord of Misrule? What the fuck is Lush?”

Matthew was a 3-in-1 type of guy. Fancy bath products didn’t do it for him, what was the point? That didn’t stop him from using it anyway. 

Thinking about the previous night, the earliest thing he could clearly recall was taking his first round of shots. Everything else was a mess of fragmented memories but he knew that he wouldn’t have initiated such closeness between the two of them. He barely liked her, hell, he barely even knew her (not like that had stopped him before) but he wouldn’t mess around with somebody on staff, even he had his limits.

He didn’t think she liked him either but he knew he didn’t pull her into him, so that meant she was the one that started it. 

“Maybe she’s been cold to me because she’s into me and she can’t do anything about it,” he mused and squirted more shower gel into his hand, “that’s got to be it.”

*

You went about your day as normally as you could, opting not to watch practice because you weren’t ready to see Matthew after this morning’s debacle. 

It wasn’t until about 10 in the evening that you decided it was time to leave the arena and head back to the hotel. You’d been working slow, forcing the time to pass but you were tired and knew you’d have to face him eventually. 

Only tonight and tomorrow were left until the Flames would be heading back home and you could resume sleeping alone in the comfort of your own home. 

You hoped Matthew would be sleeping when you got back, but much to your disappointment, he was sitting up in bed with his face in his phone and AirPods in his ears. 

“Where have you been? It’s really late.”

“Had work to do,” you mumbled as you grabbed your pajamas and headed into the bathroom to change. 

You changed, brushed your teeth and washed your face at a glacial pace. Twenty-five minutes had to have passed when you exited the bathroom and sat down on your side of the bed. 

“There’s something I want to talk to you about and I think it might be a kind of touchy subject, but we should address it.”

Oh god, what was he talking about?

“Uh, ok, what’s up?”

“Look, I know it’s probably hard for you to be around me, feeling the way you do and all, but it doesn’t have to be weird.”

Feeling the way you feel? What the fuck did that mean?

“What are you talking about?”

“I figured out why last night happened and why you’ve been so cold to me all this time. You like me.”

The fuck?!

The little smirk resting on his lips was begging to be slapped off. You had never given him any indication that you were interested in him at all. Until this morning, you thought nothing positive about Matthew Tkachuk and those few positive thoughts were strictly physical. Yeah, he was definitely an asshole.

“I, the opposite of like you, Matthew. When have I ever given you the green light that I might be interested? We don’t even fucking look at each other most of the time. This roadie is the most we’ve ever even talked to each other. What makes you think I would want someone like you?”

“You clearly cuddled with me all night, that’s what makes me think you would ‘want someone like me!’ I would never be the one to pull the trigger when it came to getting close to someone like you.” 

“You don’t remember last night, do you?”

“Most of it is a blur, yes, but that-“

“You came in hammered drunk and told me you wanted to hold me and then we went to sleep,” you cut him off. “Don’t think I didn’t feel your fucking dick shoved into my back this morning. You started this, Matthew. I don’t feel any ounce of attraction, physically or emotionally, to you at all.” 

It wasn’t entirely the truth but you were pissed. How fucking arrogant was he that he thought you had feelings for him when he was the one making the first move by coming back for a drunk cuddle?

His face was beat red, “that can’t be true, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, you did and I stupidly let you for whatever fucking reason. I should’ve forced you to go to sleep and spent another night on the floor.” 

He didn’t respond, instead focusing all his attention on the corner of the blanket he was kneading between his fingers.

“This is hopeless, Matthew. You and I are just two people who will never get along. Our personalities don’t mesh at all and that’s fine. We need to go to sleep though, two games two days in a row is going to be a bitch.” 

Flicking off the light, neither of you bothered to say goodnight as you both stayed on your respective edges of the bed, putting as much space between you as possible. 

---

Your respective alarms went off within fifteen minutes of each other, and like robots, you both got prepared for the day ahead without a word to one another. You both left for team breakfast at the same time, you heading in the direction of the staff and Matthew going off to join the players.

“So how’s it going with Tkachuk?”

“I mean, it could obviously be better. He’s making it pretty fucking hard for me to continue liking this job.” 

“I have tea,” one of the newer assistants spoke up, “if you’re interested.”

“About me?” 

“Yep, about you and concerning Tkachuk. Only if you’re interested though,” I smile played at her lips and you could tell she was dying to spill whatever secrets she was keeping.

“Hit me with it.”

“I was asked to go out with the group of guys the other night to make sure no one got in too much trouble, so I was there for everything that happened and while I know that he was very drunk when he shouted it across the bar,” she leaned in and the rest of you mimicked her action, “he doesn’t hate you at all. He’s actually pretty fucking interested in getting to know you in a much more intimate setting.”

“Bullshit.”

“He said it, I swear!”

“I believe he said it, but he was drunk and when he came back to the hotel room and insisted on cuddling until we fell asleep, he was drunk then too.”

“Wait, what?!” 

Several people started talking at once, asking you questions and making assumptions. 

“Nothing happened,” you raised your voice a little to silence them, “honestly. I’d never, especially not with him. I had also been drinking wine too so my guard was down but it was stupid and he acted even more idiotic about it the next morning.” 

You recounted what you could remember of the other night and yesterday morning when he claimed you were the one to make the first move because you ‘liked’ him. It was probably something that should’ve stayed private, but if Matthew was going to say what he did at the bar, drunk or not, and blame everything on you, you figured you’d share your side of the story.

*

“One more night with your best friend and then you’re home free, Chuky.”

“I absolutely cannot wait, and the next time there’s an issue with the rooms and she ends up as my bedmate, one of you will be fucking trading with me.”

“I don’t know, man,” Gio clapped him on the shoulder, “I love a good, slow burning love story and this one has been incredibly entertaining.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” 

“You’re kind of into her, I can tell.”

“I am not into her. Not even a tiny fucking bit, man. Don’t spread that shit around.”

“Why? You don’t want her to find out?”

“There’s nothing to find out. I’m not into her.”

“Ok, man, don’t get so defensive. You’re not into her.”

“Yeah, you definitely can’t stand her,” Noah Hanifin piped up, “that’s why you told the whole bar you’d fuck her into the shitty hotel mattress if she’d give you the chance!”

“Don’t fucking lie man, I didn’t say that.” 

“You did, but I’ll let you pretend like it was a drunken moment and not repressed pining.”

“Shut up, all of you, if you want me to get my shit together on the ice, you should stop bringing her up.”

It was petty and every one of them knew it but they didn’t want to frazzle Matt even more than he already was, so the subject was quickly dropped. 

*

The Flames won in a 4-0 shutout.

Game Two was a complete success and instead of the players going out on their own, a bar was rented out and everyone was in attendance. 

Ignoring Matthew was pretty easy at first. He scored one of the goals so plenty of the other guys were on him but as the night went on and the booze continued to flow, he found you. 

“Hey,” he slurred slightly, “sorry about this morning and last night. I was wrong to assume, you know what they say when you assume.”

You were pleasantly tipsy and not entirely bothered by his presence at the current moment, so you humored him.

“No, what do they say?” 

“When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.”

“You mean when you assume, because I made no assumptions but you certainly did.” 

“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry.”

There was something about the way he was looking at you at that moment, coupled with the song playing over the speakers at the bar that had you feeling some sort of way. 

‘Someday we’ll know if love can move mountain. 

Someday we’ll know  why the sky is blue. 

Someday we’ll know  why I wasn’t meant for you.’

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t do this tomorrow,” you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned up on your toes to press your lips against his. 

[another-fantasy-world]

hi could you please make another alice cullen x fem!reader?? i really really love your last one you made, it was so beautiful <3

||AN|| Thank youuu! I'm happy you enjoyed my last one, also, thank you for requesting!

 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆      ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Pairing: Alice Cullen x Fem! Reader

Summary: Alice with a human girlfriend who’s more vampire-like than her.

Warnings: None? Fluff. Happy Couple.

Word Count: 2,084 words

GIF isn’t mine

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆      ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You were always the night owl, lived off coffee and good books and you only wear dark colors. Your routine includes waking up at 10 pm, Cooking and eating your dinner at approximately 11:30 pm, Studying until 6 am, Taking a shower, Make your coffee, and be at school at 7:00 am where you meet up with you too-bright-and-jolly girlfriend, Alice Cullen. After school you then either head home to your own house, or to the Cullens household, either way you crash into anything soft and just ultimately pass out, and your cycle repeats. Sometimes your girlfriend would join you in studying even if she didn’t need it, Sometimes you’d do other things with your girlfriend, some of the things you do aren’t appropriate for a house full of vampires with super hearing, and not to mention her nosy brother who had the ability to read minds. 

“Get out of the way before I pummel you to the ground asshole.” You grumbled to the guy who’s blocking your way and was staring at your girlfriend like she’s a piece of meat. You hated that but you couldn’t do anything. One, pretty sure it’s illegal to kill someone even if you’re thinking about all the ways you could and Two, you miss you girlfriend’s cold hand holding yours.

You see him shiver before grabbing his things and scrambling away, his goons hot on his tail. 

“You have the most creative mind I have ever come across. Really? Using his blood as paint after you use gamma rays to blow up his uhm. Yeah. Where would you even get gamma rays?” Edward scrunches his face as they all approach you.

“Pretty sure Carlisle would hook me up with some.” You smirked then kissed your girlfriend’s forehead, You held her hand in yours as she giggled, getting out of her trance like state.

“Carlisle denied.” She kissed your cheek before dragging you inside the school, where they all separated like the goddamn sea in that one bible story.

Safe to say, you were pretty feared in the whole town. Socially isolated, always has a cup of coffee in hand, dark marks under your eyes, a blank looks often settles on your face,always had earphones in, glared at people who made your family uncomfortable, scared people without trying and a student could’ve sworn he saw you drink someones blood which he says was inside your coffee cup. It was beetroot juice since you ran out of coffee but needed something hot to drink, so you made beetroot juice, with lots and lots of sugar. You were dubbed as a vampire or a witch, which was hilarious considering your girlfriend is a vampire. A bright, happy, sparkling vampire who doesn’t sleep in coffins whatsoever. 

“Have a good day baby, see you at lunch.” Alice kissed your cheek before bouncing in her classroom followed by Emmett who winked at you and Rosalie who raised her brows at you and told you to behave.

“I always behave!” You argued with a small pout on your lips, barely noticeable but Rosalie just smirks before walking gracefully into the room, sitting in between Emmett and Alice who just shooed you away. 

“It’s never a good day.” you whispered while walking away, fully knowing that they could hear you.

Lunch came so slow that by the time you sat at your usual spot, you already had thoughts on murdering your history teacher who ‘unintentionally’ spat at your face and drizzled her spit on your face like a waterfall.

“It’s only been half a day Y/LN, You’ll get through it.” Rosalie slides her tray of food over to you while petting your head.

“i don’t understand why you choose to go through this over and over again.” You groaned, laying your head on Alice’s shoulder. They just laughed and proceeded to talk about things that you don’t even bother to listen to.

“You’re coming over today right?” Alice asked you with that bell like voice that you so loved

“Hmm? Oh yeah, Cuddles?” You whispered to her, internally groaning at how soft you’ve become for your girlfriend. 

“Yes please. You’re warm.”

“And you are freezing cold.” You retorted, stealing some of her fries

“It comes with the package. Now come on, I’ll walk you to your room.” She pats you head while moving away, packing her things. Which low-key made you whine.

“But I always escort you to your room.” You complained

“That’s true, but I figured you wouldn’t be opposed to change.” She smiled, offering her hand which you took.

“Edward?” 

“Nope. Not telling you. I am not going on another shopping spree with that little devil of yours.” He sped walked away, dragging Bella with him

“I think you traumatized him real bad, Ali.” You chuckled

“Good.” She exclaimed

12 midnight, and you just woke up to Alice holding you while reading a book, She smiles at you before tapping her lips, asking for a kiss. You shook your head no, trying to get out of her arms to brush your teeth.

“Nope, kisses first before brushing.” She grips you tighter

“Eww. Morning breath. Alice please!” She just grins before showering your face with kisses.

“There. You can go now, Esme just finished your dinner.” She beamed at you, pushing you into the large bathroom that she has before sitting on the sink.

“Uhm...” You stare at her, confused

“What?” 

The both of you took an hour long shower, you didn’t even need to shower, Alice just persuaded you into doing so. Earning you different looks from different vampires the moment you walked down the stairs.

A suggestive smirk from Rosalie and a laughing Emmett A smirking Jasper A confused Bella with a disgusted looking Edward A smiling Esme holding a bowl of food  And lastly, A laughing Carlisle.

“Oh my God.” You groaned, walking to the dining room, thanking Esme for the food. 

“Really Y/N?” complained Edward who’s cuddling a still confused Bella

“What? Just because you decide to wait until marriage does not mean I have to.” You smirked, winking at Edward who would be blushing if he was human.

“Don’t talk while your mouth is full.” Scolded Esme who’s also trying to keep her laugh in

“Yes Mom. Anyways, Bella I love you, but you look like you’re about to shut down and ready to be pawned like an old computer.” You told her, biting into a chicken leg

“i’ll take her home.” Edward says, grabbing his keys and waits for Bella.

“Why is she here anyways” Grumbled Rosalie, who everyone ignored while you just tapped her head

“Let’s play chess when you get back!” You shouted after him

You finish your food quickly and washed your plates, much to the distaste of Esme, leading your giggling short girlfriend to the couch beside Jasper.

“Jasper~ Wanna watch documentaries of wars and judge everything they did wrong?” You ask Jasper who’s nodding at your request. Alice plopping herself on your lap as she stares at you laughing and smiling with her family.

She’s really happy to have found you the way she did, She reminisced the time when the two of you first met. You were browsing racks and racks of clothes, taking black colored blouses, shirts and button-ups that are your size before walking into a dressing room. While you were in the room, she started to have a vision about the two of you together, having dates and you carrying her shopping bags in this same store, making her all giddy. She was with Rosalie at that time, who just stared at her with a look of slight confusion as she basically bounced to you. You at first was taken aback that someone was actually talking to you, and it was a cute girl at that. Alice greeted you with a smile and a hello before handing you a green blazer and tie, telling you emerald green compliments your eyes and outfit before paying for what you were buying, writing her name and number on the receipt, leaving you dumbfounded at the store

At first she thought that the both of you wouldn’t work out, especially because of all the chaos that recently happened to her family and leaving forks. But you made the effort of always texting her little notes and telling her how your day was, even if she didn’t reply, slowly she felt herself fall more in love with you, letting herself reply and indulge in the visions that she had that involved you. Once she told her family about you, they were a bit skeptical, especially since Carlisle tended to your knuckle wounds one too many times. But upon seeing the love sick look on both your eyes and the loud complaining of Edward at how sickeningly cute your thoughts were of each other, they eventually accepted you as one of their own despite being human. 

And now she stares in awe as you spent about 2 hours criticizing documentaries with Jasper before Edward comes home, and when he did, you played a couple rounds of chess (You always lost, which made Edward laugh every time.) before she decided that she’s bored with you losing to her brother every round and just decided to pick you up and dash to her room. 

“What was that for love?” You ask her when she settled herself in your arms

“I just. I was bored and I realized that it’s been too long since we cuddled.”

“It’s literally been 4 hours since I woke up bumblebee.” You ran your hand through her hair

“I missed you. 4 hours is too long.”

“Awe. I missed you too. Want to pick up where we left off on How to Kill a Mockingbird?” You ask her

“Yes please, I love hearing your voice.” She puts her face on the crook of your neck as you read to her, one of your hand intertwined with hers.

Even though she can’t fall asleep anymore, she loves the way your voice sounds, it calms her down and she could easily compare the “peace” she feels right now to the “peace” she could remember feeling when she was asleep. She really did love you and she doesn’t hesitate to let you know. In multiple various ways. 

Like now, she cut off your reading when her soft lips touched yours. You immediately let go of the book to hold her face lovingly as you put all your feelings into the kiss like you always do. You always felt like your words are never enough, so you always try to express your feeling through physical affection.

As if remembering you need your air, she slowly pulls away, her forehead touching yours as you catch your breath.

“I love you” she whispers, kissing your nose

“I love you too.” You smiled, pecking her lips

Your moment was then ruined when Emmett started banging his fists on the door, loudly exclaiming that you all have to get ready for school. You growled lowly, rolling your eyes.

“Alright! Geez.” You grumpily picked up the book that was tossed to the floor before walking to Alice’s closet where you also keep some of your clothes in...

Only to see that they weren’t there.

“Uhm Alice? Darling? Where are my clothes?” You ask her

She walks to where you are, peeking in slightly before pecking your lips.

“Oops. Accidentally sent all them to your house. Guess you have to wear my clothes then.” She smirked at you, pulling out a lemon yellow trench coat, a rosy pink turtleneck and hot pink pants with a blue belt.

“Baby, Alice. Love. Darling. Bumblebee. Please don’t do this to me.” You pleaded but she just shook her head, handing you the clothes before threatening you with no kisses and cuddles for a week if you refuse.

Your shoulders sag with defeat as you change into the clothes Alice gave you, pouting while walking down the stairs of the Cullen Household. Alice smiles brightly as she hooked her arm around yours. Chuckles and giggles erupted the moment they saw you which made you grumble and murmur underneath your breath as you sip your cup of coffee made by Esme.

“You-” 

“Not a word.” You growled out, blushing furiously as you laughing girlfriend holds your hand while walking through the halls of Forks High school. 

Your girlfriend can be annoying at times, add that to her chaotic family, but you would never trade it for anything. Ever.

[lovemeleo]

O’knutzy hurt/comfort please!

Hey anon! Just a lil bit o'knutzy hurt/comfort for ya. I'm not the best at the hurt part, but I hope you enjoy it! These characters and their amazing world belong to the lovely @lumosinlove!

It's also on AO3!

cw: hospitals and hockey injury

Finn was out until further notice.

Until further notice.

It was only their second game and now he was out because of a wrong move on the ice. He tried to dodge one guy and instead ended up slammed into the boards by another one that he didn’t see coming.

He probably should be more worried about the fact that his arm was broken but like… until further notice is a very long time to not play hockey. This was supposed to be their season. They’re coming off a cup win (knock on wood) and this was going to be their year.

Finn couldn’t help but pout as he watched his boys finish the game. They won which was great, but he wanted to be out there! He should be out there. Guess he should get used to watching from the sidelines. He had been taken to the local hospital so he could get the cast put on, but he insisted on having the TV in his room playing the rest of the game while they did so.

The game had finished around 15 minutes ago and his eyes were on the door. The pain meds they had given him made him feel a bit loopy and now he just wanted his boys to be with him.

After letting out his third or fourth heavy sigh, his nurse, Allie, glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow, “You alright there, Finn? Arm still bothering you?”

His lower lip pushed out farther as he looked over at her, “My boys are s’posed to be picking me up and they aren’t here yet,” He said, his head falling back on the stiff cotton of the hospital bed. “I think they forgot bout me.”

Maybe he was a bit loopier than he thought.

Allie chuckled, writing down the last of his vitals on his chart for the discharge papers, “I don’t think they forgot about you. They were still finishing up the game when we called your PT’s office, so I’m sure they’ll be here as soon as they can.”

He may or may not have let out another sigh, his head rolling back to look down the hall. Just as he was about to lose all hope of them coming, which was probably only another 45 seconds, Logan and Leo appeared at the end of the hall. They stopped at the front desk before their gazes finally landed on Finn. Part of him wanted to reach out to them because oh my god it felt like forever since he’d seen them and he’d been waiting and they were finally here! But the extremely heavy thing on his arm prevented him from doing anything of the sort.

So he settled for a pout as they walked into the room.

“Aw Harz, we turn away for a couple seconds and you go and get yourself broken.” Logan said, Finn’s bag thrown over his shoulder.

He had probably expected Finn to laugh or something similar. What Logan had not expected was for him to burst into tears causing the other two men to quickly move next to him, Leo’s hand running gently through red curls as they attempted to soothe him.

“Finn, sweetheart, he was just kidding. It’s not your fault, it was an accident.” Leo murmured, as Logan sat on the bed next to him.

Getting his discharge papers together as well as his medication, Allie handed it all to Logan, “Finn may be a bit out of it for a couple hours. He was at around an 8 out of 10 on the pain scale when he came in, so we did give him some pain medication after getting the cast on him.”

Finn’s head slowly slid over to rest on Leo’s side, his eyes falling closed, “Just wanna go home. Please,” He said, enjoying the feeling of Leo's fingers scratching over his scalp. They let him doze as the nurse explained the medications and upcoming appointments before he was officially released. Allie said her good-byes before leaving the two to help Finn get dressed.

“Alright, mon petit rouge. Time to get out of here,” Logan said, pressing a gentle kiss to Finn’s nose as he carefully helped him sit up without jostling his arm.

The pout came out in full force as they helped him out of the hospital gown, “‘m so tired,” Finn mumbled through the material of the hoodie (probably Leo’s) that they pulled over his head.

Leo glanced at Logan, both of them not able to help the fond smile as they helped their sleepy boy get dressed and into the wheelchair, “As soon as we get back to ours, you can sleep all you want, mon coeur.”

It took them a bit to get him into the car because he may be loopy on drugs but he’s still strong as hell, and trying to pull the both of them into the backseat, and “No, Finn, we can’t just lay here. One of us has to drive.” So Finn ended up in Logan’s lap in the backseat with Leo driving while reaching back to hold Finn’s good hand. It’s an experience to say the least.

When they finally make it back, Logan gives Finn a piggyback ride inside and they quickly get him set up in their bed. Finn watches them change into their comfy clothes, his eyelids drooping then quickly snapping open again as if he didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Do you need anything, Harzy?” Leo asks, setting the pain meds next to their bed for Finn to take in a couple hours before a stray hand grabbed at his sweats.

Finn had sprawled as much as he could to grab him from the middle of the bed, his puppy dog eyes blinking up at Leo from his pillow, “Cuddles?”

The other two boys crawled under the covers next to their injured boyfriend, being careful of the large cast that covered his right arm. “You scared the shit out of us, mon rouge,” Logan whispered, his head resting on Finn’s chest.

“‘M sorry. Didn’t even see that guy coming. I tried to dodge that one guy and BAM! I was down. Now I gotta be out till further notice,” Finn murmured, his voice slurring a bit.

Leo pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “You’ll be back out there before you know it, babe. We’re just glad you’re okay.”

Humming softly, Finn curled up between his boys, “And I’m gonna heal up super quick! ‘Cause I got my boys and that’s all I need.. Got my back. And my arm. Love you both. Lots and lots,” His voice faded out as he fell asleep.

Leo and Logan’s eyes met over the head of their sleeping boyfriend.

Finn was right. They had each other, and that’s all they needed.

[chuckbass-love]

Omg so hear me out! But I have an idea

What if just after a steamy moment between Chris and y/n he tells her that he has to do a sex scene with his co-star for defending Jacob and y/n instantly gets jealous and upset. So she decides to go sleep on the couch cause she doesn’t wanna see Chris right now due to the fact that he’d chosen the worse time to tell her about the fact that he had to pretend to fuck someone else.

And then the day he comes back after the sex scene he does to talk to her and he kissed her but she pulls away instantly and just says something like “How was she? Was she better then me?” And Chris is so baffled that he follows her up to their bedroom trying to get her to talk to him since he’s worried he’s upset her. Below could be his reaction to her question 🙈

Jealous

Hey love!! I love this idea so much! I really hope you love this because i always get a bit iffy wondering if people actually enjoy what i write for their requests. I’m sticking with the gif in the request. I’ve also changed a couple things with this though so yeah.

Also to the other people that sent in requests, i am working through them. They will be published throughout the next 2 weeks. i promise, sorry for slacking😬

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Smut, angst, fluff. Basically the works. Oral (female receiving), fingering, language, insecurities and jealous behaviour.

Word Count: 2,373

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @capsgrantrogers go check them out ❣️

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

“God i’m so glad that i’m shooting close to home so i get to do that with you every night” he pants as he turns on his side, his eyes meeting yours.

“Me too” you smile, softly at him. Your hand rests on his face, cupping it slightly as you lean in to kiss him quickly “talking of actually, there’s something i wanted to run by you” you raise a brow and motion for him to continue.

“See, there’s an intimate scene that i’m shooting tomorrow, i wanted to let you know beforehand so you’re not shocked when you see it on tv. It’s just a bit of kissing, we’ll both be shirtless and-” you don’t even give him the time to finish, you’ve heard enough for now.

“Wait, what? When did you find out about this Chris?” your annoyance is abundantly clear at this point, he sits up, letting you finish before he responds. “I only found out the other day. It’s not a long one, it’s a 10-15 second long scene and it’ll be over faster than it starts” you shake your head, getting off of the bed and heading into the bathroom to run yourself a bubble bath.

“But, why now? Why do you choose now of all times to tell me, Chris? It’s hardly the right time. You just finish screwing me and you decide to tell me that tomorrow you have to fake fuck another woman”

“It’s just Michelle, we need to, it’s for my job honey, i can’t exactly say no”

“Whatever, have fun i guess” you scoff, slamming the door in his face and locking it to stop him coming in. You need some time alone right now and a bubble bath should help to calm your angered state. 

You know it’s all just part of his job, it’s his career. Kissing other women is just what it entails but it doesn’t make it any easier. He has to do sex scenes and intimacy with other actresses. You’ve always been jealous but this time it’s the way he chose to tell you more than anything. 

You get into the bath, lying down and trying your hardest to relax your shoulders and your entire body but it’s no use, nothing works. 

On one hand you feel bad for kicking off and getting mad, but on the other hand you don’t care.

All of these insecurities and fears are all just about you being wary of him leaving you one day. Like what if... actually no. NO. You refuse to put yourself in that mind set. You’ve been going strong with Chris for 2 years now. He loves you and you love him. But right now you need to allow yourself time to be mad. 

Once you get out of the bath, you wrap a towel around your body and open the door. No sign of Chris until you start changing. That’s when he appears in the doorway, a look of worry and cautiousness. Like he’s not sure if you’re okay or if you’re still mad at him.

“I’m sorry” he finally speaks up after what feels like minutes of silence and tension “Chris, i’m tired okay” you feel so exasperated and exhausted. It’s not even just because of what happened, you’ve been working hard lately with your own career and maybe all the added stress has caused you to over react but even so, it doesn’t matter. You’re still upset. 

You finish changing before walking out of the room, he follows closely behind, wondering where you are going since It’s late.

“I’m gonna sleep on the sofa” 

“Please, can we just talk about it”

“Chris, seriously, let’s just leave it”

“But you’re avoiding me like the plague all because i have a sex scene to film. Like christ Y/N what do you expect me to do? Make a big deal and refuse, it’s my career” you jump at the way he raises his voice at you, he almost never raises it and what’s worse, he never does it to you. 

You take a step back before responding “it’s not just about that Chris. How would you feel if the roles were reversed? Huh? If i had just finished having sex with you and then blurted out ‘oh by the way babe, i’m going to be fake screwing another man tomorrow, no biggie, love you’” you mock. Not having a single care for how petty you must sound.

“Y/N i love you, i only love you. What is it about this scene? I’ve filmed plenty of them before and you choose now to suddenly say you’re not okay with me doing them. It makes no sense”

“Of course it’s going to make no sense to you, you’re not the one that’s sat back for years and watched it. You’re not the one that’s been insecure for so long and pushed away worries of-”

“Of what? Of me leaving you? You really think some fake sex scene is going to change how i feel about you Y/N? Do you really think that low of me?” you pause for a second, looking down to the floor and spotting Dodger. He looks from you then to Chris then back to you.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes, Chris spots it instantly as he steps closer, closing the space between the two of you. He leads you over to the sofa, sitting you down on it. He kneels in between your legs, holding your hands.

“Chris, i know you love me but i just worry sometimes that with me being what famous people call a ‘regular person’ that you’d be better off with someone in the same career as you, that’s all” 

He just sighs, turning away before turning back to you “I love you and that’s all there is to it Y/N. I don’t care about you not being famous, i hate that word anyway” your eyes meet his as your tears fall. He wipes them away, stroking his thumb across your cheek, in an attempt to soothe you.

“I hate fighting with you, please come to bed with me. I just want to cuddle with my girl before a long day tomorrow” you let out a small giggle, trust Chris to make you smile so easily even after an argument. It’s one of the reasons why you love him so much.

You just nod, not saying another word as he lifts you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and pressing kisses to your head. 

He lays you down on the bed before getting in himself, he pulls the cover over the two of you “I’m glad we spoke about that” you rest your head on his chest as he throws his arm around you “me too” another forehead kiss and you’re out like a light. He listens to your light snores as you cuddle him more in your sleep and he just smiles. 

Chris gets your frustrations and your worries to a certain extent. He understands how his life can get in the way, it can make you insecure. He’s an actor, you’re not. You’re not famous at all. It’s a hard thing to accept but he’ll make sure that from now on, he does everything that he can to make you feel good enough.

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

As soon as you wake and look over to Chris’s side of the bed, you realise that he’s no longer there. He had an early start with filming for Defending Jacob. So it’s not a surprise to you. Instead of feeling shit about the scene he has to do today, you pull yourself out of the funk, reminding yourself of the words he spoke to you just last night.

“I love you and that’s all there is to it”

He does love you. He won’t stray, you’re the only one for him. 

You decide to shower, to take your mind off of it for now. 

Once you’ve showered, you change and dry your hair before doing your makeup, maybe dolling yourself up will help? Baking is also on the agenda. He’s not back until 5pm today, an earlier finish than normal. The schedule isn’t as hectic.

So you decide that you’re going to make some dinner later, ready for when he gets back. Some chicken and pasta should do, along with a cold beer, his favourite drink. You flop down onto the couch, picking the remote up to turn Netflix on, you have some time to kill before your business meeting over Zoom. Might as well watch more Vampire Diaries.

Your laptop starts making a noise, signalling that the call is ready, you gather your notes before joining the meeting. Your face pops up as well as your colleagues. This can be your distraction for the next hour or so. 

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

You finish up with dinner, putting the lid on the pot and making your way to the table with cutlery and drinks, ready for when Chris gets home. He texted that he was leaving the set, that was 10 minutes ago. He’s at least 20 minutes away. So he won’t be long.

Whilst you wait, you sit on the sofa again and you pick your book up and decide to continue reading. 

“Honey” he calls out before entering the room.

Chris’s eyes fix on you, a soft smile and a look of adoration in his eyes as he walks over to give you a kiss. You pull away before he can though. His eyes scan your face for a clue as to what’s got you acting off.

“So, how was she then?” 

He sighs, loudly as he gives you a look that screams ‘really Y/N’ you mean it in a sarcastic way though, just like when you ask “was she better than me?”

All of a sudden you’re being tugged further down the sofa by your legs, your book is pulled from your hands and he’s lifting up your dress, exposing your brand new laced panties. You can’t help but feel embarrassed slightly at his unsubtle and rather seductive behaviour. You don’t think twice about letting him get on with it though. 

“Does daddy need to prove to you that you’re the only one for him?” a pool starts to develop, you shiver at this words and the freezing cold temperature of his hands on your bare thighs. He lifts the dress up a little more until it’s up by your chest.

He pulls you down further before his fingers hook into the panties, sliding them down and off so he can really examine you. You hear a low growl erupt from him as he licks his lips before then taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

You whimper a little, the anticipation is all too much for you, watching him moan and groan at the sight of your soaked pussy. 

Just as you try to buck your hips up, his cold hand causes you to jolt as it pushes you back down.

“Down baby, let daddy make you feel good” 

And just like that, his tongue starts to lick you all over, his fingers circle your tight and needy hole, desperate for you to beg him before he plunges them deep inside of you. But words aren’t possible right now, you can’t even bring yourself to talk as he continues his assault on your sex. Licking, sucking and slurping. Even spitting on it before rubbing at your clit with his thumb, stretching it down as the rest of his hand holds you down on your stomach. 

“Fuck, Chris” you moan, realising what you said after. He prefers daddy, you know this. 

“Now now honey. You know that’s not my name right now, don’t you? I’ll let it go this time but i expect you to correct yourself”

“Sorry daddy”

“Good girl. Now, do you want my fingers baby?” you nod frantically, tugging at your bottom lip “yes. I do, please daddy” he shoves them into your mouth, letting you suck them until he decides that your poor cunt has suffered enough.

You hum against them before he finally removes them, wasting no time in sliding them into you, two to start off with and then a third is added. 

Your back arches at the extra addition and eventually that along with his mouth wrapped around your clit is far too much for you to handle. You’re so sensitive already, you can tell the climax is nearing. 

“Like this baby? Like my fingers filling you up huh?” he starts “daddy only has eyes for you princess, you should know that by now but i’ll tell you what. When we’re in bed later, i’ll prove it to you even more when i’m screaming your name as you make me cum” your walls flutter around his digits, making him smile even more, he enjoys watching you like this. 

He gets a thrill out of making your world spin. When your eyes roll back, when your back arches and your toes curl. Especially when you struggle to speak. They are the best times for him. He loves knowing that he’s the only one that can get you into that state.

His fingers get faster, dragging along your walls deliciously. His tongue flicks over your clit too, sucking occasionally and now your peak is just around the corner.

“Chris. Oh god Chris. I’m gonna cum” you yell, gripping onto his hand on your tummy, which he removes as he holds it above your head. Your hips start to buck like crazy.

“That’s it baby, cum for daddy”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps, thanks to his dirty words of encouragement. 

You don’t move, just lay there panting. Your heart beat is through the roof as you calm down after that intense orgasm. You’ve definitely needed that all day.

“I think we need dinner now” you say, sitting up and adjusting your dress but he just pulls you down so that you’re straddling him.

“There’s plenty more proof where that came from baby, so don’t think that was all” you feel your cheeks heat up as you suddenly go all shy. 

He’s most definitely proved himself but you can’t wait for round 2.

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

General Tag List: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @adriannajackson @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferouss @bradfordmyworld 

Just Chris & His Characters Tag List: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 

[moonofthenight]

Petit Lion

A bit of Sirius and Harry bonding for you to cheer you up!

*

Universe belongs to the amazing @lumosinlove

*

CW mention of beverages and brief mentioning of food

“Do you really have to go?” said Sirius, pouting a bit, throwing his arms around Remus’ waist.

“I will be gone for a day not a week, baby. You will survive, there is enough to do,” Remus said with a glance over Sirius’ shoulder.

He stood on his tiptoes to give Sirius a last kiss before turning away, making his way out of the door.

“Behave and don’t set the house on fire.”

“Ha ha.”

Remus was still laughing when Sirius closed the door.

This was now four hours ago and Sirius had been doing chores all morning, trying to occupy himself with something to do. He spends so much time with Re it was weird when he wasn’t there, just like right now. James gifted Lily with a spar-day for two and she convinced Remus to go with her, leaving James and Sirius alone at home. He was too tired to do any more cleaning and most of the house was done anyway so he suited himself with a cup of tea, sitting down with a heavy sigh as he grabbed the old magazine that still laid on the table. He thought about doing a crossword but ended up skimming through the articles about the latest fashion trend and what is the best way to eat healthy. Nothing really interesting if you literally have someone who plans out what food you should or shouldn’t eat.

He was reading an article about Harry and Megan’s interview with Oprah when his phone started ringing, causing him to nearly spill his tea. He groaned as he stretched his back, making his way into the living room to accept the call.

The moment he picked up, Sirius nearly threw the phone away, far away from his ear.

“Pots?” he asked after a moment of recovering.

“Oh, thank god. Can you understand me?”

“Is that Harry? He has a really loud voice for his small body.”

“Believe me, I know. He hasn’t stopped crying for over an hour now. Please come over, I beg you. I would call Lily but you know, it’s her day off.”

Sirius chuckled a bit, “Sure thing super dad. I’ll be there in 10.”

“Thank you Cap, I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing James, this is my godson, not some random child.”

And with that he hung up, jogging towards the bedroom to throw on a hoodie. He nearly slipped on his way to grab the car keys but caught himself just in time.

Thank you hockey, I guess

Sirius send Remus a quick text that he will be over at the Potter’s and that he should come there with Lily so they can drive home together before starting the car, driving out of the driveway. Sirius was on the front door of James’ house in no time, parking the car safely, making his way over towards the door. He didn’t even get the chance to knock, the door flying open revealing a stressed-out James and a crying Harry. James has never looked so thankful and relieved to see Sirius. He may have been a bit offended by that but now was clearly not the time.

“How is the little guy doing?”

“Still crying like a champion,” James answered while closing the door.

Sirius slipped out of his shoes, walking into the open kitchen, a dancing James following him.

“I tried everything. Skin-to-skin, food, a new diaper, dancing, cuddling, everything Cap,” James said, sounding a little desperate.

“Jamie calm down,” Sirius said with a smile, “Give him to me, take a shower, drink water. I’ll take care of it now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh my god, Pots! Give me my godson and go take care of yourself.”

Sirius didn’t even wait for an answer, taking Harry out of James’ arms, pressing him safely against his chest.

And after another second, Harry’s crying started to fade, his breath evening out, little hands grabbing the front of Sirius’ shirt and if he was really honest, Sirius’ heart never felt so light and proud at the same time. He smiled softly at the little person in his arms, rocking him from side to side.

“How- how did you do this. What sorcery is that?”

“It’s called the Black charm,” Sirius said with a smug grin.

“Outdone by the godfather, I can’t believe it,” James said, pouting but the relieve in his eyes gave him away.

“I think it’s my heartbeat,” Sirius whispered, tracing the back of Harry’s nose with his finger.

James looked at the two for a bit, feeling nothing but love and gratitude.

“You are good with him, you know? Have you and Re thought about own kids?”

There was a beat of silence where Sirius kept tracing Harry’s face before he looked up.

“Well, we had one talk about it and we both definitely want it in the future but… not now though,” Sirius’ voice got quieter in the end.

“Although, this little man really has me catching baby fever,” he added with a laugh.

“He loves you,” James said, making his way upstairs to jump into the shower.

“And I love him, you have no idea how much. To the moon and back mon petit lion.”

But these words were for Harry and for Harry only.

He carried a now sleeping baby into the living room and Sirius felt the day coming down on him too, so he laid down on the couch, placing Harry on his chest, securing him with his arm. He listened to the bathroom door, followed by footsteps that got louder and louder.

“Scoot over Cap,” James whispered and Sirius cracked an eye open, moving over for James to lay down beside him.

Lily and Re came home an hour later to James and Sirius curled up and intertwined on the sofa, Harry sleeping safely between them, their hearts filled with an endless amount of love.

And if they took a picture for this year’s Lion’s Christmas Cards, it was only for them to know. Well, at least until Christmas.

[spiderlilyserendipity]

made of gold (reader x myg) (*SFW*)

can be read as gender neutral!

tags: fluff, dating, insecurity , slight angst, happy ending, can be read as gender neutral, reader wears a bit of makeup

warnings: none

word count: 2.3k

💛💛💛

the liquor had gotten to your head.

your boss had insisted on a round of drinks tonight to celebrate the project that had just wrapped up, but no one in the team was in the mood. but knowing his head-strong approach, all your co-workers merely glanced at each other unhappily when the clock struck 5 and got up to follow him.

fast forward three hours and here you were, drunk off your ass in a neighbourhood far from your own. it was friday and you didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow but you weren’t in the mood to sit in a taxi for the half hour it would take to get back home. you were feeling nauseous as it was, stomach uneasy from too many cups of coffee and the all-nighter you’d pulled in preparation for today’s presentation. it had all gone well, it always did knowing your team. but you were a worrier, and the last few weeks of working on this project had done bad things to you. forget the possible promotion your boss had hinted at, you just wanted to get by without liver damage for the rest of the weekend.

“hurry, hurry.” you told the first cab driver that pulls over. you glanced nervously over your shoulder, hoping your boss doesn’t spot your face standing on the sidewalk. you had made up such an elaborate lie to get away before they left the bar for a second round.

drunk and tired, you didn’t realize the address you told the driver isn’t your own.

you just got out at the corner and pay, bowing goodbye absently. then you turned around, fumbling when the passcode for the front door doesn’t work.

“what the fuck.” you muttered under your breath. you sighed and pressed a hand to your forehead. don’t say i forgot the passcode.

“y/n?”

you turned around, wondering why your female roommate’s voice was so deep today, or why she was just getting home now, too. but then you felt it. two warm, sturdy hands that clasped your upper arms. and then you saw them. dark, gentle eyes, hidden under a baseball cap and a mask, but you would recognize those eyes anywhere. you smiled. “when did you get here, baby?”

yoongi cleared his throat, cheeks turning a bit pink. in your drunkenness, you forgot yoongi isn’t baby, not yet. it had only been about three months of flirting between you two, more phone calls and top-secret dinner dates than anything serious. you understood that. yoongi’s a big man, and you were just lucky enough to have met him through a mutual friend.

you were simple and he was charming, but for whatever reason, he looked at you like you’re made of gold.

“this is where i live, y/n-ssi. remember?” yoongi reminded you lightly. your mouth fell open dramatically. ah. you fucked up. no wonder you’d felt a little funny telling the driver your address.

“oh. oh!” you blurted, looking around quickly. your eyes searched for any lingering people, cameras in bushes, that type of thing. suddenly, you felt a lot more sober. “shit. i’m sorry yoongi-ssi. let me just—”

you pulled up an app on your phone, ready to call your roommate to come get you instead of risking lingering around and being caught. but before you could do that, yoongi’s hand gently tapped your shoulder. you turned and he was standing with the door half-open. “just come in.” he said, hand trailing down your arm to take your hand in his.

blushing like a teenager on their very first walk of shame, you follow him past the lobby to the elevators. you can’t help but be a little shocked at all the marble and sleek steel around you. of course you knew of bts before you met yoongi, but you worked a very busy corporate job that made it hard to have hobbies. but even with all the small promotions you had gotten in the last ten years, you knew you would never afford luxury like this. min yoongi was rich rich. you realize.

when you glance at him, you suddenly feel nervous. you had been upright with him since day one about keeping the flirting polite and secret. you had a good job of your own and were very independent. yoongi liked that, he’d told you multiple times. you both liked to take relationships slow, mature and sensible adults as you were. but now you’d done it. you’d showed up and invaded his space, without the two of you ever discussing “dating”. as far as you knew, you were just another fling of this big superstar. perhaps you were making him uncomfortable? you two hadn’t even held hands until now.

you looked down at your clasped hands. yoongi was looking at something on his phone to bide the ride up to his floor. he was dressed in simple black sweats and a t-shirt but there was a rolex on his wrist. if you moved your wrist just a little, the cold sweat on your body would smudge the glass. are those diamonds? like real fucking diamonds? you wondered, staring at the shining jewels around the glass.

“something wrong, y/n-ssi?” yoongi asked. you jolted, pulling your hand back.

“n-no! nothing at all!” you replied a beat too late, mind still fuzzy. man, you really needed a nap.

yoongi looked down, where his rolex-clad hand dangled by his side. then he pulled his mask down, chewing his upper lip. “do you want me to drop you home?”

just the mention of getting in a car had you feeling nauseous. his home was even further from your place than the bar had been. and now that you know that min yoongi is rich rich, you can’t risk it. god, what if i threw up on his, like, hand-crafted leather seats or something?

the elevator dinged and slid open to reveal yoongi’s floor.

you followed him quietly down the long, marble hallway to the very last door. yoongi’s apartment. he glanced at you as he tapped the numbers into the electronic lock. you looked away sharply at the plant outside his neighbour’s house instead. you hadn’t seen the code, so why did you feel so guilty?

“sorry to intrude.” you said as you enter his home. yoongi didn’t reply, just nudged the pair of guest slippers towards you with his foot. you took off your shoes, watching yoongi with a bit of awe as he strode into the house and turned on the lights. was his back always that broad?

“what did you do today?” you asked, cringing at how it sounds like a question a partner would ask.

the sound of the fridge opening and closing answered you. a second later, yoongi appeared behind you. he lightly tapped your elbow as he came around you to sit on the large sofa. you followed, sitting down at the edge of your seat.

“i worked in the studio today. we’re preparing for our new album.” yoongi answered in short but polite sentences. he opened a can of beer in his hand. “how was yours? you mentioned you had a presentation today.”

you flushed. you couldn’t believe he remembered that, you had told the deadline for your project that weeks ago. “it was good. we went for drinks afterwards.” you explained, your leg bouncing at your side. “what do you usually do when you get home?”

yoongi set the can on the coffee table. he leaned into the sofa, facing you. “depends on the schedule we had that day. if i’m tired i’ll just eat, wash up, and go to bed. if i’m feeling good, i do all of that plus a drink or two.”

“you feel good today?” you asked, your heart jumping to your throat when he smiled against the cushion.

“yes.” yoongi answered, eyes not leaving yours. “i do.”

you cleared your throat. a notification popped up and you glanced down at your phone, happy for a split second away from yoongi’s eyes that make you feel hot inside. your roommate was asking where you were. “my roommate can come get me soon.”

“i’ll order us something to eat. text her once we’re done eating.”

you nodded numbly, looking at the can of beer on the table rather than at yoongi. alcohol really was the bane of your existence. you were so embarrassed to look this way in front of yoongi.

you and yoongi engaged in some more small talk once he ordered food. he asked you what you would like to watch on netflix and handed you the remote to put it on. in the meantime, he said he would go get your food. you felt embarrassed when he said your food. it was a reminder that you showed up uninvited and that he was probably just too nice to kick you out.

your sadness seemed to amplify the tiredness. without knowing, you drifted off in the few minutes between when you put the show on and yoongi’s return.

when you woke, there was something soft but firm in your face like a pillow. it smelled like laundry detergent and feels warm and cozy. you buried your face into it, sighing in comfort. a moment later, you felt fingertips gently card through your hair. was that your roommate pulling you in for one of her random cuddle sessions?

you adjusted again, pushing yourself up against your pillow. you were about to drift back asleep when a deep voice filled your ears. “do you want to eat yet?” yoongi asked.

you startled, sitting up as fast as you could. you looked down, horrified. you were laying on top of yoongi’s chest, your head having been tucked in the space between his neck and shoulder. yoongi, who had been scrolling on his phone until now, turned his phone off at your worried expression. “what is it, y/n-ssi?”

you grabbed your own phone off the coffee table to check the time. it’s 10:30 now. your roommate was probably asleep by now. and here you were, still drunk and laying on top of a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend yet. shit, shit, shit.

“i’m sorry. i really need to leave.” you said, climbing off yoongi. your eyes catch on an unopened pizza box on the armchair next to the sofa, feeling extremely guilty. this was terrible. you ruined everything.

yoongi was kind, too kind for you. he took you in despite the risk of cameras catching you outside his apartment. he bought you dinner just for you to fall asleep and not let him eat it. your own place was too far from here, a taxi would cost a ton. and on top of it all, you weren’t even dating. what the hell were you supposed to do now?

“i’ll drop you.” yoongi’s voice was back to normal, no longer sleepy. as expected, he didn’t try to make you stay. whether that was out of courtesy or just because you were annoying to him, it burned. “but aren’t you hungry?” he asked.

on cue, your stomach grumbled.

yoongi laughed. “sit down, i’ll warm some up for us.”

the two of you ate quietly, awkwardly.

when you were done, you stood up. fuck it, you would have to pay the big taxi fare and endure the nausea. you couldn’t bother yoongi anymore. so you said a quick thanks for dinner without looking him in the eye, ready to run for it.

“y/n.” yoongi’s voice stopped you. “are you sure you want to go home?”

yoongi’s cheeks were pink when he looked at you. he scratched the back of his neck. “you can spend the night here, if you like.” when your eyes widened, his did, too. “i have a guest room. a guest room with a bathroom and everything.”

still drunk and crushing too hard on min yoongi, you smiled. “okay.”

but as you took a step towards him, you nearly slipped on the polished surface of the hallway. you groaned as he caught you, embarrassed. you were going to kill your boss for making you drink this much.

steadily, yoongi guided you to the guest bedroom and sat you on the bed. you wait for him to return and when he does, it’s with a packet of makeup wipes and a brand-new toothbrush still in its pack. purple. you noticed as he set the latter on the duvet. interesting.

you startled when his hand cupped your face, guiding you back to look at him. “close your eyes.” he whispered, face only a few inches from yours. you let him wipe off the light makeup you wore every day to work. when you opened your eyes, yoongi was giving you that same look from earlier. like you were something special, something whose true value only he knows. like you were made of gold.

your eyes fell to his lips. you inhaled, ready to take your chances.

yoongi closed the space, kissing you sweetly. his hands cupped your face, and yours wound around his broad back. it felt perfect.

when you separated, the two of you were breathless. seeing each other’s flushed faces, you laughed together.

when you come back from borrowing yoongi’s shower, the lights in the house were off except for yoongi’s room. he smiled as you slid into bed beside him. he reached over you to turn the lights off, then pulled you in against his side. your heart fluttered when you felt him tuck the duvet in around you.

“yoongi?” you asked. under your ear, his heartrate got a little faster. he must’ve thought you were asleep. “we’re—we’re a thing right?” you ventured, hoping all of this was real. that min yoongi wasn’t the kind of guy who could do this for every fling.

yoongi laughed under his breath. “obviously, baby.” he replied, kissing the top of your head. you smiled as you fall asleep beside him.