#I like drinking my coffee in the morning sunlight

[joeyb1989]

uh oh, i’m falling in love* - joe burrow

summary: after the end of your toxic relationship, you find yourself falling for your roommate.

word count: 4.1k

pairing: joe burrow x reader

warnings: smut, fluff, minor angst, cussing

a/n: okay. i am so sorry if this is bad yall. i tried my best to fix it, so if it is bad… don’t tell me😍 this might be pure yap. i hope you all enjoy💗

even though this fic takes place in December of last year, Joe is not hurt!

this is part two — part one

3 months later - December 2023

Your eyes slowly opened as sunlight entered the room through your sheer curtains. You never liked mornings in your relationship with Jake. You knew that your morning would start with an argument and your night would end with one. Ever since the breakup, you’ve learned to value your mornings. They now bring calm, peace, and tranquility to your day. 

You sat up in your bed, stretching your limbs as the smell of coffee brewing downstairs put a small smile on your face. “Why does he have to be so sweet?” you whispered to yourself, a content sigh escaping your lips.

After your daily routine of skincare, brushing your teeth, applying a small amount of makeup, and getting dressed, you started down the stairs of your and Joe’s shared home.

“Morning, Y/n,” Joe smiled once he was aware of your presence. His appearance almost made you choke on the saliva in your mouth. He was standing in the kitchen flipping the pancakes he was cooking while shirtless. You’ve seen Joe shirtless before, but his body will always amaze you. It looked like it took people years to craft him from gold. Your eyes slid down his body, seeing his Seinfeld sweatpants hanging deliciously low on his waist. Your gaze fixed on his golden treasure tail, smirking to yourself knowing what it led to.

“Good morning Joe,” you smiled, walking over to him, “Pancakes look good. You’ve really improved since the first time you made them.”

Flashback to your first morning in the house

“There you are. I was beginning to think that you were gonna stay in the shower forever,” Joe said as you walked into the kitchen freshly out of the shower, with a small limp in your step.

“I’ll have you know that the warm water helped my… sore muscles,” you retorted, growing embarrassed at the thought of the night before.

“From moving all your stuff in?” Joe smirked, taking a drink of his orange juice, knowing the real answer.

“Don’t even,” you giggled, your lips smiling when Joe handed you a cup of coffee after you sat down at a barstool.

“I made you some coffee, I hope you like it,” Joe scratched the back of his neck as you took a sip, “If you don’t I can make you another. I just wanted to be nice and-”

“Joe,” you took one of his hands in yours, “It’s perfect. Thank you. What is this? Pumpkin spice?”

“Yeah, I remember in high school when you would bring a pumpkin chai into Calculus class every day during the fall,” Joe sheepishly smiled, “So I figured you would like this.”

“Can you even blame me, though? Drink this,” you said as you handed the coffee cup back to him to take a sip.

Even though he hesitated at first, he took a sip from the coffee mug, nodding his head in contentment. “Damn, I can make a pretty sick cup of coffee,” Joe boasted

“Dare I say: better than Starbucks,” you giggled, “You know if football doesn't work out for you, maybe you should become a barista.”

“Thank you though, seriously,” you smiled, suddenly aware that you were still holding on to one of his hands.

“Anything for you,” repeating his words from the bar last week, subconsciously leaning in towards one another. The smell that went up your nose made you stop your actions, “Is something… burning?” you asked

“What?” Joe asked, still close to your face from how fogged his brain was.

“Do you not smell that?” you asked as you saw his eyes go wide when the realization hit him.

“Shit!” Joe said as he looked over at the burnt and smoking pancakes. He turned off the stove as endless giggles and laughs escaped your lips. Even though he was upset with himself that he let the pancakes he was making for you burn, your laugh made his frown turn into a smile.

There was no doubt about it, he was falling in love with you.

End of flashback

“Oh my god, that was so funny,” you laughed thinking about the memory.

“Yeah, was it funny when you had to fix us breakfast because you were scared I was gonna burn down the house?” Joe chuckled, handing you the vanilla coffee he prepared for you.

“You still helped though,” you smiled, taking a sip of the warm drink

“You’re a better cook than me anyway,” Joe said

“Well, by the looks of it, you’re becoming quite a good chef, Burrow,” you teased, looking at the strawberry pancakes, your absolute fav, that he was placing onto two plates.

“Learned from the best,” Joe poked your nose before it voluntarily scrunched up from the contact.

As you two ate breakfast together, you two talked about each other’s plans for the day. Joe was going to go to practice and watch film later in the day. Your plans were to go to work, work-out, and go to the grocery store before you come home.

A part of you wanted to stay with Joe all day. You just wanted to watch movies or shows with him all day while he made random comments. You wanted to hear his giggles and the jokes he would make. You were honestly doing anythingWas this a typical thought that someone would have for a friend? 

Later that day

After everything on your agenda for the day was done, you were sitting in the living room watching a random episode of Friends when Joe strutted into the house. His loose-hip walk making your thoughts run wild.

“Hey, Y/n,” Joe smiled as he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, before plopping onto the couch next to you.

“Hey, Joe,” you smiled back, “You want some popcorn?”

“Sure,” Joe grinned, taking a handful of the snack, “We haven't seen this episode together before, have we?”

“Mm.mm,” you shook your head, “This is in season five, I think we’re at the end of season three. I have this episode on because it’s just my favorite episode of the series.” After moving in together, Joe insisted that you two should have “roomie bonding time.” Which consisted of two nights a week where one of you would pick a show or movie to watch to watch for a couple hours. You always opted for Friends or Love Island. You never expected Joe to get so invested in either, but the man will shock you sometimes.

“What makes it your favorite?” Joe questioned, taking a drink of his water. His prominent Adam's apple bobbing, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“Uh- it- um… it’s hard to explain without spoiling anything for you. Let’s just say that a certain two characters hooked up, began secretly dating, and everyone finds out about it this episode.”

“First part sounds familiar,” Joe smirked, thinking back to their first night living together.

“I wish it was all familiar,” you thought, thinking of the love the two characters on the show shared.

That’s when it hit you. You were in love with Joe Burrow. You had been ever since that day in the bar, when Joe showed you how you deserved to be treated. You have been every day since then. Did he still feel the same? Did the night you two shared mean the same to him as it did to you? They always say being in love feels like warmth, like a fire that has been built for you. You definitely felt like that with Joe, but you doubt he felt like that with you.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously, not really sure how to reply to that.

“I still can’t believe that we…” Joe trailed off, rubbing his sweaty palms on his shorts.

“Had sex?” you bluntly said.

“Yeah,” Joe chuckled, his eyes widening at the memories.

Flashback to the night you moved in

“Awkward,” Joe joked as the movie you two were watching showed a particularly spicy sex scene between two characters.

After unpacking all your stuff, Joe insisted that he would make you dinner for your first night there. Even though he apologized many times that it might not be the best, you swore that he could be chef if the whole football thing fell through. He fixed chicken and pasta, paired with some veggies, with some wine to help you both relax after a long and tiring day. Both of you were definitely a little tipsy now that most of the bottle was empty, making your words a little more bold than they usually would be.

“I feel like I’ve been sex-deprived for a million years,” you drunkenly sighed, taking another drink of your wine.

“What do you mean,” Joe giggled, being caught off-guard.

“It- it doesn't matter,” you muttered, sulking to yourself.

“Tell me,” Joe replied, scooting closer to you.

You hesitated for a moment. Did you really want to unload all your problems on him? You know what, fuck it. This man’s heard worse from you. “I haven't had sex in almost two years. Jake said that I didn't deserve to feel good because I wasn't sexy enough or something. He would make me get him off, though,” you sighed, trying your best not to meet Joe’s eyes.

“That’s fucking bullshit. If you could see yourself in my eyes…” Joe trailed off, rubbing a hand down his face. How could someone think that you didn't deserve to feel good? You were the most incredible looking girl he had ever seen.

“What? Do you… think I’m sexy?” you asked, finally meeting his gaze. Taking note of how darker his eye color had gotten.

“Oh, the sexiest,” Joe said, leaning in even more. He was so close you could feel his breath on your face. “If you were mine, I would make you feel good every day of the week, baby girl.”

Your breath hitched as you felt his hand graze your waist as your gaze flicked down to his soft lips. “I wanna kiss you so bad,” you blurted.

“There’s nothing stopping you,” Joe voiced, leaning in and capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. His lips were so soft and fit to yours like two missing puzzle pieces. His hands pulled you into his lap as your tongues entwined with each other. “Y/n,” he groaned as you started grinding your crotch on his. Joe stood up, with you still in his arms, and strided for his bedroom.

Joe sat you down gently on his bed before he went back to kissing you. His lips trailed down your lips to your neck as he began searching for your sweet spot. Your hands tangled themselves with his hair, pulling him closer to you. “Fuck, Joey,” you moaned, embarrassingly loud when he found it. “Feel good?” Joe smirked.

“Mhm,” you whimpered. His hands went under your shirt, prompting you to lift your arms to let him pull it off. You were left in just your red lace bra, which made Joe go crazy.  “This is okay, right?” Joe asked, reaching behind you to touch the clasp of your bra.  You nodded your head in agreement, “Yeah,” you smiled up at him. His kind gesture made you feel so comfortable and safe.

He unclasped your bra and you felt suddenly insecure when his gaze fell on your breasts. As your arms went to cover them up, he pulled them away. You laid down on the bed, as he crawled over top of you. “You are… literally perfect, Y/n,” Joe smiled, kissing each breast. “No reason to hide when you’re the most gorgeous girl on this planet… or any planet, for that matter,” Joe cooed, alluding to his words from a couple of weeks ago.  He kissed down your jaw and neck, before peppering kisses to the valley between your breasts.

“Joe,” you whimpered as his tongue swirled around your nipple. Your hands went under his shirt and rubbed his soft skin. You watched as he detached from your boob, whipping his shirt off. He reached his hand down and pulled down your shorts, leaving you in nothing but your panties – which matched your bra.

He trailed his fingers down to your core, his eyes widening at how wet you were. “Damn, baby,” Joe smirked, his digits teasing your clothed entrance. “This wet and I’ve barely touched you.” Your body sizzled with anticipation as you watched Joe kiss down your belly until he reached your core. “Eyes on me, mamas,” Joe growled. You looked down just in time to see him drag the red lace down with his teeth. 

Fuck was that hot.

He licked a stripe up your folds, earning a whimper from you. Joe set a veiny hand on your thigh, keeping your legs open, as he slid his tongue inside you. Joe moaned against you when you threaded your fingers into his hair, grinding against his face.

Several minutes later, you felt the pressure in your belly building up, signaling that your release was close. “Joe,” you whimpered, “I- I’m-”

“Shh, I know, I’m here,” Joe smiled, adding a finger into you as his skilled mouth attached to your clit. You could've sworn that you were seeing stars. “Just let yourself feel good.”

“Mmm, Joe,” you moaned when he added another finger, extremely loud but you didn't seem to care because you felt so good. No other guy has ever made you feel this good. Physically or mentally. Joe was physically making you feel good with his fingers and mouth, but he was mentally making you feel good with his soft praise, comforting actions, and the way he was worshiping you. As your orgasm was getting closer and closer, you suddenly felt a gush of wetness down below you, followed by several moans from Joe.

“Oh my god-” you shrieked when the realization hit you. “Joe, I’m so sorry-”

“For what?” Joe interrupted, coming out from between your thighs, looking like a kid in a candy store. Your juices covered his mouth and chin, and a smirk danced across his lips. “Squirting?” he asked, wiping his chin with his fingers before bringing them up to his mouth to clean them off.

“I just… I don’t know,” you whispered, your cheeks turning beet red from embarrassment.

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. That was fucking hot,” Joe grinned. He leaned over top of you, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. “Taste yourself? You taste good, don't you?”

“Joe, I need you,” you whimpered, already ready for my action despite your intense high just a few moments ago.

“Whatever you need, baby,” Joe whispered into your ear before shoving his shorts and undies off. He gave himself a few pumps as he looked deeply into your eyes. “If I’m too rough, if you want me to stop, do something different, or anything, don’t hesitate to tell me. You’re safe with me.”

“You’re so…” you trailed off, looking at his cock. Guess they don’t call him “Big Dick Joe” for nothing.

“Yeah,” Joe chuckled, lining his tip up with your entrance, “but I promise I’ll go easy on you.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered as he pushed a couple inches into you, stopping when he noticed discomfort on your face. “Don’t stop,” you said when he did. Even though there was discomfort at first, it was quickly replaced by pleasure.

You both moaned out once he was fully settled. “You can move,” you reassured him before he set a slow pace, but quickly sped up when he got lost in the feel of you.

“You feel so good, Y/n,” Joe groaned, cupping the back of your leg and placing it on his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper. You felt like you were floating, but you needed more. “Joe,” you panted, “Fuck me- fuck me harder.” Joe’s eyes widened at your words, “Are- are you sure?”

“Fuck yes,” you whimpered as his relentless pace sped up even more. The tip of his cock was ramming into your cervix with each thrust.

A few minutes later, you felt yourself on the blink of release for the second time tonight. Joe knew you were close as your walls were rhythmically squeezing him. “Jesus,” Joe groaned, feeling him close to his own release, but tonight was about you. He needed you to feel good, so he, somehow, picked up the pace of his thrusts even more, sending you straight to heaven.

“Fuck, I’m- cumming,” you moaned as you felt the pressure in your belly build up once again. 

“Shit, Y/n,” Joe groaned, as he too was close.

“Joe!” you screamed as your high washed over you. Joe continued to fuck you through your orgasm, wanting you to feel good for as long as you could. Soon, you felt ropes of Joe’s hot cum seep into you, followed by his own moans of pleasure.

“Are- are you good?” Joe panted. You nodded, the euphoric high making you glow. Joe laid his head on your chest as the two of you tried to: one, catch your breaths, and two, wrap your minds around what had just happened.

A few moments later, Joe unwrapped himself from around you and headed into his bathroom, coming back a few minutes later with a towel to clean you up. He was extra gentle with you since he knew that you would be awfully sore.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him as he threw the towel in the hamper. He crawled back into bed next to you before pulling you into him and kissing the crown of your head. “No need to thank me, it’s what you deserve.”

“I cannot believe-” you said

“Shh, we’ll talk about it in the morning,” Joe promised

“Goodnight, Joe,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his soft skin

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Joe smiled back, pulling you even closer to him.

End of flashback

“It was crazy hot, though,” Joe smirked, his gaze flickering down to your lips but he stopped himself when he remembered the talk you had the next morning.

Flashback to the morning after

“Goodmorning,” a raspy voice above you called as you opened your eyes.

“Morning, Joe,” you smiled, kissing his cheek, smiling even more when you noticed his flushed cheeks.

“Are you sore?” Joe asked, softly rubbing your back. His kindness, raging bedhead, and morning voice made you want to pounce on him.

“Yeah,” you winced, stretching, “I’ll be alright, though.”

“Well… let me just hold you for a bit, then I’ll make breakfast while you shower,” Joe smiled, which turned into a straight line when he remembered that you weren't his. “Unless… you don’t want to.”

“No, that sounds perfect,” you reassured, moving back into his arms. A few minutes of silence go by before you speak up. “Joe?”

“Hm,” Joe hummed, the thoughts in his head running wild. He was crazy about you, but you had been through so much lately.

“What does this mean for us?” you questioned, staring into his loving, blue eyes.

“You tell me,” Joe said, “I know what you’ve been through. I’ll wait for you.”

“Joe… I really like you. Like I really really like you,” you chuckled, “I just… need some time.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Joe repeated, “for as long as you need.”

“Joe, you don’t need to do that. Go out and live your life. If we’re meant to be, we’ll be when we’re both ready,” you soothed.

End of flashback

Joe did wait though. He’s been on one date in the last three months… one that he typically doesn't like to remember. Him and his date was back at her apartment and they were… getting down to business when he moaned your name. He couldn't get you out of his head. His date even looked like you; even if she wasn't you. She had your hair color, eye color, body build, but she wasn't you.

You, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about Joe either, but you were scared. Even though it's been three months, you feel like you’ll be getting over Jake your whole life. Your relationship with him was horrible, no doubt, but you loved him. Every time you’re with Joe, however, he makes that feeling go away. He heals that part of you without even meaning to. He makes your entire world go quiet.

It scares you how he makes you feel, it scares you for how fast you fell for him, it scares you that he doesn't even try to make you feel this way. You’ve always said that if you fall fast, then it can’t last. “Maybe I should give it a try,” you thought, looking at Joe’s smile as he watched the show.

One week later - Christmas Day in Athens, OH

“What are we doing here?” you asked, taking in the playground in front of you. The playground where you and Joe used to play as kids.

“Just… taking a trip down memory lane,” Joe smiled, guiding you to the swings by the small of your back.

After a long day in Joe’s childhood home with both sets of your parents, Joe insisted that he would take you somewhere before going home. “Here, let me push you,” Joe smiled. Endless giggles fell from your lips as you swung in the air.

“Okay, okay, stop,” you giggled after a minute. Joe grabbed your waist, slowing down the swing before stepping in front of you. “You’re so beautiful,” Joe smiled, looking down at you. The December moonlight casted on you, highlighting all of your features.

“Joe,” you spoke softly as you stood up and cupped his cold cheeks. “I love you. I love you so much, Joe. The way you treat me, the way you’re always there for me, the way you care for me. It used to scare me, but I realized you're it for me. And I’m sorry if I just made anything weird but I just had to tell you-”

Joe cut you off by smashing his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet, but also full of passion. It said so many words with just one action. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to say that to me. God, I love you so much, Y/n. That’s why I brought you here, I wanted to talk about us. Because I’m yours, Y/n. I’ve been yours since that night in the bar. I bought you this, by the way.”

Joe’s hand went into his pocket and dug out a black, rectangular box. He opened it to reveal a necklace, the necklace. You were the girl.

Flashback to the other day

“Okay, we’ve gotten everything for your parents, my parents, and each of our siblings,” Joe said, reading the list, “I’ve just gotta get this one thing.”

You and Joe were in the mall together, trying to go some last minute Christmas shopping. “What thing?” you asked.

“I wanna impress this girl, and I figured you would know what she would like,” Joe smiled, leading you into the jewelry store. Your heart dropped at Joe’s words, but why? You weren't his. You told him to live his life. 

End of flashback

You helped him pick out the necklace exactly how you would like it, without knowing it was for you. The only difference now was your initial on the necklace.

“You don’t need to impress me,” you smiled, as he put the silver necklace on you. “You do that enough by just existing.”

“I love you, you’re seriously the sweetest girl I’ve met in my life. You’re selfless, beautiful, incredibly sexy, compassionate, and caring. And that’s just a tiny percent of why I love you,” Joe beamed.

“I love you so much,” you smiled. “You are so hardworking, handsome, caring, a little bit of a dork… but you’re my dork.”

“I love you a million,” Joe grinned, pressing sweet kisses all over your face.

“I love you a billion,” you giggled.

“Let’s go home and get into some trouble, baby,” Joe teased, leading you back to the car.

“Okayyyy,” you laughed, but stopped dead in your tracks, “Wait. Does this make me your girlfriend?”

“Sure does, sweetheart,” Joe smiled

“Oh my god, you’re my boyfriend,” you gasped, “I wouldn't want it any other way though.”

“Me either,” Joe kissed you once again before opening the door for you and driving home.

For the first time, the two of you would be going home as a couple. You took a leap of faith to not let your anxiety control your relationship, and you’ve never been happier that you did.

You thought the plane was going down, but Joe somehow turned it all around.

[bittersweetvampire]

They are bathing in the morning sunlight ☕ kinda looks like they're blessed by heavens

[riddlesb1tch]

Nature's A Bitch

Azriel x reader

summary: Reader is on her period and amidst the crankiness due to a lack of sleep and her hormones going haywire, she says something to Azriel she doesn't mean. Now, she has to apologise.

warnings: mentions of blood (only once and nothing gory)

You clutched your stomach, groaning in pain as another cramp hit. Earlier in the night, you’d woken up to excruciating pain in your abdomen and had odiously discovered you’d gotten your period. The rest of the night was spent barely getting any sleep, staying in a fetal position in an attempt to relieve the cramping. However, they only seemed to intensify as the night went on. Your only option was to ignore the pain and try to fall asleep. 

It was a Saturday morning when the usual knock sounded on the door. You buried yourself under the covers, groaning, trying to drown out the annoying sound of Azriel knocking on the door. Due to having barely gotten any sleep the previous night, you’d rather never wake up again than be awoken at this hour. Especially knowing what waking up entailed. 

This was routine for the two of you. You and Azriel had been best friends for decades and somewhere along the way, you fell into a routine where Azriel woke you up on days he was home with a hot cup of coffee. The two of you would sit in bed and drink it then head to training.

Of course, this caused both of you to get teased a lot by the rest of IC about each other but you didn't care. It was fun chatting with Azriel about anything and everything over a cup of coffee. Today, though, you just weren’t in the mood or the physical state to wake up. 

By your guess, it was the ass crack of dawn right now, like every single day when he came to wake you. Mother Nature had built a chicken into this male that started cawckawing at the first rays of sunlight. This normally amiable quality of his annoyed the shit out of you today.

The knocking continued on the door but you didn’t respond, doing your best to ignore the sound and sleep again.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Azriel’s voice boomed as he barged into your room.  His thudding footsteps approached the bed before he rolled you over to make space for himself to sit. 

“Brought you coffee,” he said gently. Extra black as you like it.”

You continued ignoring him, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone for the day. He did not, however, because you could still feel his knee slightly nudging your back as he sat next to you on the bed. Honestly, his presence felt quite nice because suffering all night felt a bit lonely. It was only his relentless attempts at waking you up that nagged you. 

When you didn’t reply, Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Y/n?” He asked, peeling the covers back from your face a little bit. 

You didn’t know why this simple act enraged you so much. It was the mood swings that came with a period but the simple act of Az lifting the covers off your face made you snap. You sat up so fast that Azriel jerked back in surprise, spilling some of the coffee on your covers. 

“What the fuck do you want, Azriel?” you yelled, furiously glaring at Azriel who looked at you stunned. He had never witnessed an outburst like this from you. 

He gaped for a second, then said, “What do you mean? I came to wake you up like I do every morning,” he stated in confusion. 

You shook your head in frustration, massaging your temples to relieve the building headache now. 

“Yeah well maybe I don’t want your ass barging in here every fucking morning to ruin my day,” you said in frustration, pulling the covers back over your head and trying to fall asleep. 

Azriel’s heart dropped all the way to his feet. That was the one sentence he’d dreaded to hear from anyone in the family but it especially stung coming from you. You and Azriel had been there for each other for the longest time. You had been there every single time he felt his inadequacies overtaking his qualities, been there to bring him down from every single nightmare, every reminder of his horrible past. So for him, it felt like having all that information made you realise you didn’t want to be his friend and simply put up with him because you were too kind to hurt him. Well, that had been his suspicion. A suspicion you’d just confirmed. 

You didn’t see the pained look in Azriel’s eyes when you said that, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil of emotions. Some part of him knew you didn’t mean it and were probably just having a bad day. Another, bigger part of him though, was chastising him for being a burden, telling him that he was as unwanted as he’d always thought and now the truth was in front of him. 

He got up from your bed and set the coffee cup on your nightstand. This time, no thudding footsteps were telling you he was walking out of your room. You barely heard the sound of the door closing behind Azriel before you were pulled back into a deep slumber. 

You woke up around noon, still in excruciating pain from your cramps. Some part of you wanted to stay in bed, in the comfort of your blankets and the warmth they provided. Eventually, though, the disgust from the blood overtook your need to be comfortable, and you willed yourself out of bed. You took a hot shower, used some muscle relief balm on your back and stomach to relieve the pain, changed into some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, then guzzled down a couple of painkillers from Madja to rid yourself of some of the misery. 

Afterwards, you headed out to eat something. 

Because it was the weekend, most of your family was home. Chatter was heard from the living room: sounds of talking, laughing, dishes clinking, and chairs scraping against the floor. A small smile made it to your face. While the scales of your emotions were tilted more to the negative side during your cycle, the bright sounds of chatter and laughter never failed to lift your spirits a little.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted in a much more chirpy mood than earlier this morning. 

“‘Morning’ ended 2 hours ago,” Mor judged.  

You rolled your eyes at the blonde and looked around at everyone in attendance. One person seemed to be missing; the one who was always there if he was home because family mattered to him the most. So when he was absent from family time, you frowned.

“Where’s Az?” you asked. 

“I actually…don’t know,” Rhysand replied, brows furrowing. It was weird that even Rhysand didn’t know where Azriel was since due to his prying nature, he always entered people’s heads and found out what everyone was doing. So if Rhysand was unable to do that, that meant Azriel had blocked him out, which could mean only one thing: he was brooding. 

Without another word to your family, you turned around and headed straight for Azriel’s room. Honestly, chances were low you’d find him there since his favourite place to brood was either the terrace or the bench in front of the Sidra, but given the rest of the family was home, there was a higher chance he’d stay in his room to avoid the risk of people talking to him. 

You gently rapped your knuckles on the door. There was no response, so you tried twisting the door handle. His room was open, as always, so you walked in…into complete darkness. The room was shrouded in shadows running rampant, trying to veil Azriel from whoever may enter the room. 

You practically felt the shadows exhale in relief when you entered as if they’d been waiting for you to come and negate whatever thoughts were running around in their master’s head. 

“Azriel?” you called into the darkness. 

Silently, you closed the door behind you. Azriel would not appreciate more people prying when he was feeling like this. From muscle memory, you took slow and careful footsteps towards the bed. Shadows swarmed you as you walked, brushing your legs as if urging you on. 

Finally, you reached the bed. Your shins hit the mattress and you leaned forward to rest your hands on the bed and feel around to see where exactly Azriel was. Your hand slightly brushed the side of his thigh and you exhaled with relief. Immediately though, that turned into a sharp inhale when Azriel jerked away from your touch. 

That was weird. He’d never done that before. 

Guessing as to which way he was sitting, you settled down next to him on the bed, one leg folded on the bed while the other dangled off the edge. 

“Az?” you called, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” you asked. 

Once again, Azriel turned away from your touch. Your anxiety was growing now as you grew more agitated with not knowing what was bothering him. 

“Talk to me,” you pleaded. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” 

“You-” a broken voice came. “You don’t need to pretend to care, Y/n,” Azriel said. 

“‘Pretend to care’ what? What do you mean?” you asked. “Pretend to care about what?” 

“About me,” he sniffled. 

Your heart audibly cracked. 

“Azriel,” you said in a stern voice. “You know I love you. How dare you accuse me of pretending to care about you when you know you’re my best friend.” 

He scoffed and you just knew he rolled his eyes. “Didn’t sound like it this morning,” he said angrily. 

Now you were confused. You thought back to what happened this morning. You recalled Azriel walking in with a cup of coffee. You didn’t like that he was trying to wake you up. And then you said-

Your eyes widened as the realisation dawned on you. 

“Oh Azriel,” you said, at a loss of words to excuse your shitty behaviour. “I- I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage. 

“Just forget about it, Y/n. At least now I know the truth,” he resigned. 

“No,” you stated adamantly. “You don’t know the truth.” 

“Then please, enlighten me. Cause where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been putting up with me for the past five decades because you don’t have the guts to tell me that you don’t want to be friends with me!” 

The pain in his voice killed you. 

“Azzy,” you sighed in defeat. “I started my cycle yesterday,” you explained. “I know it doesn’t excuse what I said to you. I just couldn’t sleep the whole night and the thought of getting out of bed was the most painful thing ever so I snapped when you pulled the covers back. I’m sorry, I should have just told you what was going on.” 

As you spoke, you noticed the shadows slowly retreating to their corners. Little by little, you could see Azriel sitting in front of you. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, and tear-stained cheeks. You felt horrible. You brought a hand up to his face, gently stroking his cheek. 

“Oh Az,” you sighed. 

“Is that true?” he asked, searching your eyes for confirmation. 

“Yes,” you nodded earnestly. “Azzie, there’s no relationship I value more than yours and I would never, ever intentionally do anything to damage it. I would especially never intentionally hurt you. I hate myself for saying what I did. I hope you can forgive me,” you pleaded with him. 

Finally, a small smile appeared on his face. “Of course.” 

You could finally see all of him now. The shadows had completely retreated to their corners save for a couple that remained to stroke your cheek with affection as if thanking you for clearing things up with their master. 

“I love you, Azzie,” you smiled at him. 

“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel said. 

He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder and clung to you. In that one hug, he communicated what losing you meant for him, and you vowed to yourself to protect this male at all costs.

tags: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @milswrites

Masterlist

[tinalbion]

Hi Tina!!!

I just saw your requests are open for Logan...❤️‍🔥

Might I request something a wee bit nsfw? (actually completely nsfw if I'm being honest here) I just saw a tiktok that did a deep dive into wolverine's animalistic instincts and I seriously cannot stop thinking about it.

Those instincts in bed? yes please

With that being said can we get some biting and possessiveness up in here. I was thinking maybe Logan is a bit embarrassed by it but reader is completely accepting. It's mating szn and Logan's in heat 🥵🥵🥵

'𝐈 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞' ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x fem!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! Minors, DO NOT interact! Smut with some plot, kitchen sex, fem!Reader, unprotected p in v, biting/ marking, possessiveness, jealousy, animalistic tendencies, canon typical language, dirty talk, Logan gets embarrassed by being a little freak

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 5.2k

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: My lovely friend @nepptunez also asked for some animalistic Logan, and I want to make a little drabble about that later, but definitely needed to get this out of my system 😅 But I hope you both enjoy!

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

It was always the same thing when you and Logan had your times together, you would have this song and dance around one another, and he was hesitant and reserved while you were craving him in unspeakable ways, but it always ended up in a heated and frustrated session that left you breathless regardless. But there was always something about Logan that seemed to feel off to you like he was hiding something. You knew he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize you both, you had much more trust in him than you had in anyone in your life, so you wanted to get to the bottom of it before making it a big deal. 

You had no idea where to start or how to figure out what was ailing him, but you knew he’d been through a lot in the past, you never held that against him. Maybe it had something to do with trying to trust himself to open up, you knew he was a tough egg to crack most days. Either way, you sat at the kitchen table with your drink, scrolling through your phone aimlessly as if your mind was somewhere else. 

Logan walked in, waking up slowly from sleep as he wiped the rest from his eyes, he saw you awake already, which wasn’t usual but it didn’t bother him. “Mornin’,” he grumbled as he shuffled to the coffee pot. 

You smiled as you looked up at him, watching as he rolled his shoulders, cracking the bones and stretching his muscles. “Morning, Logan, sleep well?”

“Yeah. You’re up early.” Always the man of few words in the mornings. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, staring at you as he adjusted to the sunlight. 

You peeked over at him with a smile and shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep, my brain never turns off when I want it to,” you laughed, trying to avoid the conversation you were dreading, you just wanted to figure out what his problem was without getting him upset, especially if it meant him having to work through some unresolved issues. You hated forcing him to talk about it, knowing he’d spit it out when he was good and ready. 

Logan nodded as he listened, his cup brought to his lips as he watched you, your heartbeat picked up slightly, as did your temperature. He took notice of these things, but he never commented on them, not unless it became too much of a problem in his eyes. “I get that,” he said softly, drinking more of his coffee from the mug in his hand. 

“Speaking of, I noticed you haven’t been dreaming as much,” you pointed out with a genuine smile. “I’m happy something is working for you,” you said with a hum that followed. 

This made his eyes flicker away from you, feeling almost, what, shame, embarrassment? He wasn’t sure, but it was a good point; he hadn’t been waking up with as many nightmares as before. Logan had just let out a huff in reply and nodded before taking another sip of his coffee. “I suppose I haven’t,” he mused. “Guess I have that goin’ for me.”

You just stared up at him softly and offered a kind smile. “Yeah, I’m happy about that, means you can finally get some good sleep,” you joked and stood up from your chair, walked up to him, and kissed his cheek gently as you grabbed more coffee. “Oh, by the way, I got some errands to run, so if you need anything you can let me know, okay?”

Logan had always gone with you on your errands, especially since getting used to this world, the one that was still foreign to him, but this time, he sensed your hesitancy. He shot you a look and seemed almost offended. “I ain’t goin’ with you?” He asked. 

“Well, you can stay home and relax if you want, it’s just gonna be a quick thing,” you said softly, pouring some creamer into your cup and mixing it. 

Logan didn’t like that, he didn’t like the quick brush-off or how you insisted he stay behind. Maybe it was just you wanting him to relax, not to become too overwhelmed considering all of this was still new to him. But something in the way you were acting was getting him slightly riled up. He watched you carefully as you walked back to your seat, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He didn’t want you to leave the house without him, it felt wrong, and he understood this thought process was… not right, it was stupid. But why was he growing irritated with the thought of you leaving him here?

You scrolled through your phone a bit and checked the weather, seeing how warm it would be today, then you finished your coffee and smiled as you stood up, looking at Logan as he continued to look miserable. You looked at him with your brows furrowed, he seemed to be avoiding your gaze. 

“Logan, is everything okay?” You asked him as you always did, and he would probably respond the way he always did. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

There it was. You sighed a little but nodded and smiled softly up at him. “Okay, if you need to talk, just let me know, but I should be back soon. Maybe I could pick up something for dinner.”

His expression shifted but only a little. “Sure, that sounds good, princess,” he replied and suddenly pulled you into his embrace, one arm tightly wrapped around you as he buried his face in your hair. 

He loved your smell, your scent was one of the things that grounded him when he got in these moods, and it was tough for him to release you, but you said you’d be back soon, there was nothing to worry about. He was just overreacting, maybe he had an off night, and didn’t sleep enough, he tried to explain it away even though he knew what his problem was. 

“Okay, be careful, yeah?” 

This made you hum softly, your smile widened as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. “Always am, be back soon, big guy,” you said and leaned up on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Logan let out a satisfied hum, which could have been mistaken for a growl of happiness, and placed a firm kiss on your head. “Hurry back,” he said his tone still gruff. He was hesitant to let you go, but the sooner you left, the sooner you’d come back to him. 

He didn’t have the patience to deal with Wade right now, and thankfully, he was off being whisked away by his girl, Vanessa. As much as Logan appreciated the way they tried to include him, this time of year was always the most difficult, but even more so with you here. He would just have to wait it out if he could repress the urges…

Logan paced back and forth in your shared space, his instincts were going crazy right now as he tried to find ways to calm himself. Before you, he had never really had an issue controlling himself or his urges, they had always been there, kept at bay, but something about you being here with him made him feel ten times more on edge. He was an animal, everyone in his life reminded him of that, and that was true to a fault. 

This time of year was the worst, the most on edge he ever was, and he couldn’t control it around you for much longer. Leaving wasn’t an option, keeping you at a distance wasn’t either, so he fought it. It was only a few days he dealt with the heat rising in his body, the way his senses were heightened and he could smell you clearer than ever, but the ache he felt in his stomach and between his legs was growing more and more unbearable to handle. If he could just have a taste, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad… but the thought of hurting you kept him at bay, that was the last thing Logan wanted, and he couldn’t think of what would happen if he did…

While he was pacing back home, you were out grabbing some things, running errands, and doing what you always had on your weekends off. It was your ‘me time’ as you got your favorite drink from the cafe down the street and drove to the grocery store to grab some things for the weekend. You had a great dinner in mind you wanted to make for Logan, so you made sure to make a list of everything you needed. As you were halfway through, some guy was looking at you hard down the aisle. It seemed like a familiar face, but you weren’t sure. As you walked closer, it was definitely a familiar face. 

“Oh my gosh, is that you, Danny?” You asked.

The man’s face lit up and he smiled wide as he stepped up and reached an arm out, hugging you briefly. “Wow, is that you?” He asked with the same tone of surprise. “You look great! How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you since, what, end of middle school?” 

You laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I think so, that felt like ages ago, didn’t it?” You asked with a wide smile. “How’s life?”

“Ah well, had a wife, divorced, got a great kid out of it though. You?”

You shrugged and smiled. “Not married, but seeing someone, he’s great. Different. No kids.”

Danny smiled and shrugged in return. “They’re not for everyone, but I hope your guy is treatin’ you nice. It’s great to see you though, we should catch up one day. I’m usually at the coffee shop down the road every Sunday, it’s my one day of peace.”

“Maybe I could meet you there next week!” You hummed with a smile and hugged him again. “Be seeing you!”

Enough distractions, you had brought up Logan and you felt that little voice inside your head, you missed him and just wanted to sit next to him right now. So you hurried through the grocery store, ran one more errand, and drove home as soon as you could. 

You got home and entered through the door with your arms full, but Logan was already there with his arms open to grab the bags from you. “Oh, thanks, Lo,” you smiled as you walked in with your single bag in tow. 

He had stopped for a moment and sniffed heavily where you stood, his face contorted from stoic to completely annoyed. You were none the wiser as you began to put away everything in the cabinets, smiling as you were just happy to be back home. Facing away from you, his jaw clenched hard as you began to talk about your errands, about how you had some ideas you both could do around town if he wanted to try something new, but after a while, you weren’t sure that he was listening.

“Logan, you okay?” You asked softly as you walked around the kitchen table and stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

He tensed beneath your touch and turned slightly to peek over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine, just listenin’,” he grumbled. 

You looked up at him and squeezed him gently, staring with concern in your features. “You sure, Logan? You’ve been acting off the past few days and I was hoping it wasn’t something I’ve done.”

Logan sniffed the air, smelling the assaulting scent on your clothes, it was strong and he did not like it one bit. “Where were you today?” he asked suddenly. 

With a small step backward, you stared at him in confusion and slight irritation. “I told you I went to run errands, pick up groceries, as I do every weekend. Logan, what are you implying?” 

“You got some asshole’s smell on you, it’s strong, it’s infuriating,” he growled, turning around quickly to walk up to you, towering above you. “So whatever happened out there is really pissin’ me off.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, then your face lit up in realization. “Oh, I saw an old friend from school, he hugged me, that’s it. Told him a little about you, told him you were great.”

Logan could hear what you were saying, but the senses in him were on high alert and they didn’t care what you said to this guy about him. You smelled like him, like some stranger, he needed to change that and fast. He backed you up against the nearby wall his figure towered over you while one hand was placed beside your head while the other was splayed across the top of your chest and collarbone. He was holding back, you could see it, he was trying not to lose himself.

You placed your hand on his chest and looked up at him, your eyes staring directly into his. “Logan, what’s been going on with you this week?” You asked softly, your gentle voice pulling him into a pit of desire. 

“I…” he paused and wondered if this was even something he should be telling you. This was incredibly embarrassing, what would you think of him then after he told you? He huffed and looked away, annoyance etched into his features while he tried to avoid yet another awkward situation.

Your hand was placed on his cheek, pulling his face to look at you. “Logan, you know you can tell me anything,” you cooed softly, smiling up at him like that… It slowly began to chip away at the walls he had built for himself, and when it came to speaking of things about himself, that was a different story. “You're okay, right?”

Logan sighed as his eyes flickered away from you, but then a surge of rage came over him at the smell of that stranger on you, his face contorted with anger and he lunged forward, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you onto the counter. He stepped between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips firmly.  

“You want to know if I'm okay?” He growled, his face inches from yours.

“Of course, I do!” You said with surprise and slight offense. “I always want to make sure you're alright.”

His grip on your hips tightened, and he leaned in even closer, his eyes burning into yours. “The only way you can make sure I'm fine is by leaving me alone,” he whispered harshly, his breath hot against your skin. “Go now, while I still have some shred of control left.”

You stared at him in surprise, and then looked annoyed he'd even suggested such a thing. “No.”

His expression darkened, and with a growl, his hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, just enough to cause you the least amount of pain as he pulled your head back, exposing your pretty throat to him, smiling as his nose glided across your throat as he inhaled for a moment. He bit down and hard, sinking his teeth into you. He sucked and bit, marking you, his other hand gripping your hip possessively as his body pressed against yours. He was marking you physically, then rubbing his scent all over your body to show you just who you belonged to. 

You cried out loudly, your hands gripped his arms to try and pry him off of you because of the pain, but soon, it was mixing with the urge of wanting to feel his teeth in other places.

As you leaned closer against him, he could feel the heat radiating off your body, and it made his head swim. Once he pulled away from marking you, Logan leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. "I'm fine," he growled under his breath. “I just…”

“What?” You urged gently, feeling your entire body ignite with a mixture of fear, arousal, and thrill. 

Logan couldn't think straight. The sight of you, the way you smelled and tasted, everything about you was driving him to the edge of wanting to completely lose himself. His hands moved up your body, gripping your shirt and pulling it roughly over your head, revealing your undergarments. "You always test me, even when you're not meanin’ to do a damn thing, you're always wanting me to lose myself in you.”

"Logan, you've never acted like this before..." you replied softly, shivering from the sheer jolt of excitement that shot through your entire body. You felt the excitement pooling between your legs as he placed his hands on your thighs. 

He lifted his thumb to trace the outline of your lips before he leaned in to kiss you again. He could feel your body pressed against his and it was almost too much to bear. "Fuck," he growled, "you make me want to lose control, doll… I want to… to do things to do that would show others that you're mine, you hear me?”

You looked up at him, the smell of your arousal was strong in his nose, and he was using all he had to hold himself back. While he held onto your thighs, his hands shot out and pulled at your wrists, pulling your entire body against his as he captured your lips in his, his kiss urgent and demanding as his fingers dug into your skin. He didn’t mean to cause you any pain, he was just so overwhelmed to get that smell off of you, to make sure anyone who had dared come near you would know just who you belonged to. 

Your hands began to pull at the hem of his tank top, yanking it from being tucked into his jeans while your lips were still locked with his, but Logan pulled away faster than you could blink, growling low in his throat as he tossed off the tank top to the floor. His chest was heaving, his muscles tensed as his breathing was heavy. His face lingered closely, his gaze hungry as his eyes, dark with desire, stared into yours. 

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he said in a low tone.

This made you smile; despite all he was pissed about and all that would happen, he still had the decency to dote on you, love you, and compliment you. In his special way, of course, but he never failed to surprise you. Your hands were then placed on his chest, admiring the muscles, the chest hair, and him overall. “And you’re perfect,” you replied sweetly. 

He smiled back at you, a cocky grin at first, slowly fading into a gentle grin as his expression softened momentarily before his gaze turned intense. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, pulling it off with a quick yank, and tossed it aside. His eyes fell to your breasts, his hands shaking with the effort of controlling himself. When you saw the hesitation, you couldn’t stop from grabbing his massive hands and placing them on your chest, giving him that silent permission. He groaned as his thumbs grazed over your nipples, then he leaned down and sucked one into his mouth, his other hand pinched and rolled the other nipple between his fingers. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh. 

He pulled away and licked his lips. “Fuck, I love your tits,” he hummed before placing the other in his mouth. 

You arched your back in reply, your breathing was already shaky as you felt his hands doing the bare minimum while your body responded in ways you didn’t think it could. You could feel yourself leaking through your underwear, pooling between your legs as Logan was making sure to put his mouth anywhere he could, marking you with his sharp teeth. “Fuck, Logan,” you whined.

He released your nipple with a pop and looked into your eyes, his gaze intense. “You smell fucking perfect, so wet for me and I’ve barely done a thing to you.” He reached his hand between your legs and began to rub your clit through your shorts, his fingers pressed against your soaked fabric. “Damn, you are,” he mused.

You wiggled as you tried to buck your hips to the best of your abilities, but standing wasn’t your strong suit, so you just whined and wished he’d take you already. You were always so willing when he was around you, it didn’t matter what state of mind you were in, you needed him as much as he needed you. You swallowed and panted before looking directly into his eyes. 

“Logan, please,” you urged.

“Please what? Use your words, baby girl. Tell me.” He moved his fingers and hooked them onto the waistband of your shorts, tugging at them playfully. “Want these off?”

You nodded eagerly and shimmied out of them as fast as you could, your hands helping him with getting rid of them. “I want you to fuck me,” you breathed, your chest heaving from the excitement. “But you need to ditch those jeans…”

Logan chuckled and quickly unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his legs along with his boxers. His hard cock sprung free, already leaking with precum. “Mhm, fuck, got me so excited already,” he grumbled. 

“Can’t help it,” you purred in response, watching him carefully as he stepped back toward you, ripping off your underwear with one fluid motion, causing you to gasp. 

“I know you can’t,” he said softly as he suddenly grabbed you by your hips, making sure to have your legs wrapped around his waist as he moved you toward the counter, setting you down on the surface. “Now spread those legs and show me your pussy,” he demanded, his voice rough with desire.

You wouldn’t deny him this, so you nodded and leaned back, your hands flat on the counter as you spread your legs open for him, seeing just how wet you’d been for him. Your face was so red, so warm from seeing Logan in such a state that you couldn’t speak much after his eyes raked over you, landing on your soaked heat.

He groaned low at the sight and stepped between your open thighs, grabbed your hips, and pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, the cool marble against your backside. “Wrap your arms around my neck,” Logan instructed. “And your legs around my waist.”

You nodded and did as he told you, scooting forward against the marble eagerly as your legs and arms wrapped around his body. 

Logan gripped your ass with both hands and tilted your hips upward. “Atta girl,” he cooed as he began to rub his throbbing cock against your wet folds a few times, teasing you and readying himself. “Look at me,” he said gruffly.

You stared up at him, your eyes wide with eagerness as he planned on taking you here in the kitchen. “Logan,” you breathed softly, wanting to say so much to him, but you couldn’t find the words.

He met your gaze, his eyes burned with intensity. “I’m going to fucking destroy that tight little pussy,” he growled, lining himself up with your entrance. “And you’re gonna love every second of it.”

Your breathing grew heavier as your entire body shivered upon hearing his promise. Of course, you’d love every second, you always loved any attention Logan showered you with. “Yes, Lo, please,” you begged.  

He doesn't waste any more time, so with one swift thrust, he buried himself inside of you to the hilt. "Goddamn, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his head dropped to your shoulder as he fought for control. "You're so wet, so tight.”

You gasped and you moaned out loudly, feeling his cock pushed all the way, bottoming out as you breathed heavily. The sting of his stretch felt so good, that you clung to his body as you tried to ground yourself. "Fuck, Lo, you're so big..”

He grinned at your words and started to piston his hips, slamming into you over and over again. "You just take it," he commanded. "Every inch of me. You wanted it so bad, didn't you? You needed me to fill you up. Show you who you belonged to.”

"Y-Yes, fuck, oh my god, Logan!" You cried out, your nails digging into his arms as he plowed into you.

Logan's eyes flashed with a primal hunger and he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Say my name again," he growled in your ear. “Tell me who you belong to.”

You gasped and stared into his eyes as his hand wrapped around your throat. "You, Logan!" You cried out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked when he heard his name, feeling your pulse racing under his thumb. He squeezed tighter and started to fuck into you harder. "Good girl," he praised. "Say it again.”

You cried out with each hard thrust, smiling as he used his hand to choke you. "F-Fuck, Logan!”

His grin widened, baring his teeth at you. "Louder. Let the whole house hear who's making you scream." He sped up his movements, his hips slapped against your backside with every powerful thrust. "Come on, baby.”

"LOGAN!" You cried out loudly once more, his hips slapping into yours as you tried your best to hold onto the counter, shaking beneath him.

The sound of his name echoing in the kitchen spurred him on. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and sucked hard, no doubt leaving another mark. "Legs around my waist," he grunted, his voice muffled against your skin.

You did as you were told and made sure to tighten your legs around his waist, panting heavily as he scooted you even closer to his body. Logan started to fuck you more roughly, holding you up easily with your legs around his waist. His thrusts became even harder, every collision making your whole body shake. "I want you to know you’re mine, you understand me? No one can make you feel the way I do.”

“L-Logan, won't last long like this,” you said between gritted teeth and breaths that were pulled from you, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buried himself inside of you. 

His face contorted in pleasure as he growled against your neck. "Then we'll come together.” He grunted with effort, his abs tightened as he drove into you again and again, his rhythm becoming more erratic. "Touch yourself, need you to come on my cock.”

You reached between your bodies and began to sloppily rub your clit as he thrusts into you, your body shivering heavily as you could feel that coil deep within you wanting to snap. It was difficult to keep going with Logan pounding into you mercilessly, but you needed to appease him, or else who knew how long he'd keep this up. 

He groaned encouragingly, his voice hoarse with passion. "That's it, baby. You're so close, I can feel you tightening around me.” 

He grunted again, his own release drawing closer. His hips jackhammer between your thighs, the wet sounds of their joining filling the room. 

"Ahhh, fuck, Logan, gonna-gonna," you started, attempting to survive just a few more moments until you came undone. "Coming!" You cried out, your entire body clenching around Logan’s as you clung to him.

Hearing your cries of pleasure, Logan plunged deep inside you one final time as he too reached his peak. He threw back his head and roared out his release while he moved his hands to your outer thighs, already feeling the familiar sensation of his claws protracting as his entire body tensed, his vision whited out as he lost all sense of being. "Fuck!" His fingers dug into your skin, the tips turning white from the strain as he held you in place, his arms like steel around you as he rode out his orgasm, the added intensity of his claws keeping you from moving as his hot seed spilled deep inside you, filling you up. 

"Mine," he growled possessively, his voice shaking with exertion and emotion. "You're fucking mine, always."

"Yours," you said breathlessly as you rested your head against his shoulder while your arms wrapped around his chest.

Logan's arms slowly relaxed while his claws retracted, and he gently unraveled your legs from his waist, letting your feet find the floor once more. He pressed soft, lingering kisses to your neck and shoulders, kissing over the dark-colored bruises and hickeys he left along your neck and collarbone, then rested his head back on your shoulder as he slumped over. 

“‘M sorry, dunno what… came over me… that's…” He stopped and kept his head lowered.

You just laughed and wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him close as you gently rubbed his back. “Don't apologize,” you cooed softly. “You’re just worked up.”

“No, it’s… not just that, it’s somethin’ else. I get… in these moods, like,” he groaned and shook his head slightly, already feeling the embarrassment flooding his face. “Like animals in mating season; territorial, possessive. Can’t help it sometimes and your smells drive me insane.” 

That was it, that’s why he’d been acting weirdly jealous, clingy, and just wanting to be closer. “Oh, oh!” you said softly as you looked down at him, smiling even wider now. He shared a new part of himself with you, something he found awkward to speak about, and he opened up. You brushed his hair gently, running your fingers through it as you couldn’t hide your smile. “Why didn’t you say so?”

He lifted his head slowly to look up at you. “You’re not… freaked out by it?” He asked, his brows furrowed together. 

You just chuckled in response. “No, of course not, why would I be?” You continued to run your hand across his hair, comforting him to the best of your abilities. “Logan, when I said I accepted you, that was all of you,” you explained. 

This took him off guard, surprised him even, but your words had made his stomach stir, and he couldn’t stop from grabbing you and pulling you against him. You melted in his grasp, smiling wide as you wrapped your arms around him, showing him you were here for him. All of him. Logan didn’t have to say anything, he wasn’t a man of words, more of action, so when you wouldn’t pull away from him in moments like these, it showed that you were a woman of action, too. 

His arms wrapped even tighter around you, his chest still heaving slightly as his breath slowly returned, and he couldn’t help but nuzzle into the crook of your neck. “You’re really okay with it?” He asked again. 

“Ssh, Logan, just accept that I might actually like it when you get possessive,” you said playfully, planting a kiss on the side of his head. 

Logan smiled softly, nuzzling your neck as the urge to mark you washed over him once again, his mouth opened slightly while his tongue gently darted out to slide across your throat. “Good,” he mumbled against your skin. “Then you won’t mind if we take this to the room,” he added, looking up at you with that primal hunger gleaming in his eyes once again.

“I don’t mind at all, especially since it’s you.”

[azzibuckets]

loopy in love part 2 [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: sorry for the long wait! i wasn’t gonna write a second part but @makethemhoesmad forced me to.. and let’s pretend that azzi miraculously healed before the end lmfao

word count: 1.4k

part 1 | masterlist

Azzi needed to forget.

She needed to forget how warm Paige’s hands were when they’d traced her hair. She needed to forget the feel of Paige’s lips against her cheek, grazing across her skin and coming so close yet so far from where she needed it the most. She needed to forget the way Paige held her through the night, the two of them pressed so close together she didn’t know where she ended or began.

And she really needed to forget how uninhibited she’d been with the nitrous oxide running through her veins, revealing the secret she’d spent years perfecting to keep away, locked in the corners of her mind. Paige had been gone when Azzi had woken up this morning, with no text or note. Azzi been relieved at first, not knowing what to say or do so soon after the fact. But she also couldn’t ignore the anxiety swirling in her stomach, worried that she’d ruin everything they’d built over the past few years.

So that’s how she found herself with a bottle of tequila in her hand, sprawled out on the couch at 1 PM. Her apartment was utterly dark, the curtains drawn to block out the sunlight. She knew this wasn’t a healthy way to cope, but frankly, she didn’t care. She wanted, needed to numb the ache in her heart at Paige’s absence, at how she’s embarrased herself last night and probably destroyed their friendship ever.

But the doorbell rang, and when the door revealed Paige, Azzi was stuck, unsure of what to say or do. Paige’s face was void of emotion, her expression tightly controlled in the same way it was when she talked to reporters, the press, strangers, anyone that wasn’t someone she was close to. Azzi’s heart thudded.

Paige stepped in, not waiting for an invitation. She set a drink on the counter, the cup wet with condensation. “I brought you a smoothie.”

Azzi’s hands gingerly rubbed her jaw that was still swollen. “Thanks.”

Paige nodded in acknowledgment. She didn’t say anything, but her foot nervously toeing the ground told Azzi everything she needed to know.

“This is awkward,” Azzi blurted out.

Paige winced. “Yeah, it is,” she admitted. She went to go sit on the couch, but she paused when she saw the bottle of alcohol sitting on the coffee table. She picked it up, staring at it in disbelief as Azzi looked away in embarrasment. “Is this yours?”

“No, that’s…” Azzi’s mind furiously searched for someone to blame it on. “Caroline’s. She left it here the other day.”

Paige’s eyes hardened. “I can see droplets on the table.”

Azzi swallowed.

“Are you kidding me, Azzi?” Paige threw the bottle on the couch and approached her with blazing eyes, her jaw tense. “Did you happen to forget that you had surgery yesterday?”

Azzi sighed, having had enough of the conversation. She went to the kitchen, rummaging around the cabinets for something soft to eat. “It was just my wisdom teeth,” she muttered. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Alcohol thins your blood, Azzi, you know that.”

“I really don’t need you to babysit me right now.”

“Then stop acting like a kid.” Paige marched past Azzi to the sink, bottle in hand. Before Azzi could stop her, she unscrewed the cap and poured the entire bottle of tequila down the drain.

“Paige, what the fuck?” When Paige only smirked at her, Azzi felt herself grow hot with anger at her audacity. “That cost fucking money.”

“Please,” Paige scoffed. “This shit is cheap as hell. And we both know money isn’t an issue with you.”

Azzi was done with this conversation. She was done with the way that Paige was able to get under her skin so easily and make her feel things that no one should feel for their best friend. Knowing she was only proving Paige right but still not caring enough, she headed to her room and slammed the door, feeling like she was 13 years old again.

But, of course, Paige followed her, opening the door and slipping inside. “Wanna tell me why you’re trying to get drunk at 1 in the afternoon?”

“Wanna tell me why you’re not at lift?”

“I’m not at lift because I wanted to make sure you were healing okay.” Paige’s voice rose an octave, but she forced herself to calm down once she saw the change in Azzi’s body language, how she was shifting away. “What happened, Az?” Her voice was soft now, and she took a seat next to the younger girl, letting their elbows knock together.

Azzi stared straight ahead, focusing on the loose thread in the carpet instead of daring to glance over at Paige. She could feel the alcohol buzzing loosely through her body, not enough to be intoxicated but enough to give her that little bit of boldness she wouldn’t have otherwise. “You don’t think I notice that you don’t tell me anything anymore?” The words cut like a knife in Paige’s chest, and she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, trying to let Azzi continue before saying anything. Azzi brought her knees up, folding her arms around them, making herself as small as possible like she was trying to protect herself. “Lately we’ve been fighting all the time. I-,” she paused, inhaling deeply, “I wasn’t even gonna ask you to take me to the dentist. I was scared you’d say no.”

Azzi closed her eyes briefly. “You know how devastating it is? To realize that I’m in love with my best friend, that I have been for the last four years. But then you started to pull away, and now it feels like I’m losing you, and I don’t know what to do.” She finally worked up the courage to look at Paige, but as soon as she did, she regretted it almost instantly. Paige’s eyes were rimmed red, wet with tears, her bottom lip trembling.

“It was two months ago.” Paige recalled the moment she’d started distancing herself from Azzi. “The guy at the bar - he was flirting with you. Remember how I was in a terrible mood that night?”

Azzi chuckled. It had become an inside joke with the team, how Paige had been the one who came up with the idea to go to Ted’s to celebrate that win, but had ended up sulking in the corner of the room the entire night because she “didn’t feel well.” “I remember.”

“You were flirting with that girl from Virginia Tech.” Paige was the one to look away now. “I remember feeling so irrationally angry. And I couldn’t even be mad, because you looked gorgeous that night. With your black top that I love.” Paige laughed dryly, but there was no humor in her voice. “And I remember thinking, damn, if I were that girl and seen you on the court playing like that, I would’ve flirted with you too. And I think that’s when I realized. That to me, you were more than just my best friend.”

Paige’s words hung in the air between the two of them, the tension almost tangible. Azzi burrowed her chin into her knees. “We fought that night,” she said, her voice a whisper.

“We did.” Paige anxiously rubbed her elbow. “And we got over it, but…”

“We never really did,” Azzi finished.

Both girls were silent.

Paige turned to face Azzi, giving a small smile. “But yesterday, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows obnoxiously. Azzi went to push Paige, but Paige grabbed her wrists instead, pulling her into her body until they were only a couple inches apart. Azzi had never been this close to the blonde before unless you counted her dreams, and it was dizzying, the smell of Paige’s perfume combined with the warming heat of her body.

When Paige’s fingers trailed up her palms, lightly tracing each groove before grazing the skin on her arm, Azzi sucked in a breath. Paige had touched her before. They cuddled almost every night for fuck’s sake. But it was different now, with electricity charging the air between them.

“Do you want this?” As soon as the word yes left Azzi’s mouth, she was pulled onto Paige’s lap, her legs straddling the blonde’s hips. Before she knew it, Paige’s mouth was on hers, soft and gentle, and Azzi realized then that she was fucked. In a split second, she knew that there was no way she’d be able to live without getting to taste Paige’s lips over and over again for the rest of her life, without the feeling of Paige’s teeth nibbling at her bottom lip and Paige sighing into her mouth. It was electrifying and it was thrilling and it was perfect, the way Paige’s lips molded against hers.

Paige suddenly pulled away, wiping at her mouth with a grimace. “I think I taste blood.”

Azzi ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Way to ruin the mood.”

Paige laughed, then pulled Azzi down so that they were lying on the bed, facing each other. “I’m sorry for pulling away. I was just trying to protect myself from falling too hard for you.” Paige’s thumb went to stroke Azzi’s cheek. “But I don’t think it worked anyways.”

Azzi’s breath caught, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from smiling too hard. “I don’t blame you. I’m pretty easy to fall in love with.” She expected a quip back, but Paige only stared at her with intensity.

“We’re still best friends, right?” Paige’s voice was small and unsure.

“I’ll die before we stop being best friends,” Azzi assured, pressing her forehead against Paige’s.

[fallinallincurls]

pancakes for two, i will always love you

this is my (late) entry for demi's lowkey lovefest 2k24! thank you so much for hosting this fun little challenge @wyattjohnston!

this fic is also a belated birthday gift to the amazing @desiredposion!! inspiration struck and i had to make the most of it so i hope you love this! this was also my first time writing for nico which was so much fun.

prompt used: "don't ever stop looking at me like that."

heavily inspired by the lyrics "maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two, hash brown, egg yolk, i will always love you" from keep driving by harry styles

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.3k+

~~~~~

Dating a professional hockey player means that slow mornings are a rarity. Usually, Nico is up and out the door for morning skate before your eyes even open. But today, you’re lucky enough to get the extra time in bed with the man you love for the first time in what feels like forever.

As sunlights bathes the room in a subtle, but beautiful golden glow, you snuggle in closer to Nico in an effort to absorb the heat radiating from his body. His strong arms tighten around you instinctively and even though his eyes remain closed, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“Morning, Neeks.”

“Mm,” He hums contently, making you giggle and you relish in the rough feeling of his scruff against your skin. You card a hand through his tousled hair, earning a soft moan in response.

“Come on, schatzi.” He murmurs, dragging out the syllables of each word as a slight smirk appears on his lips. “You know how much I like it when you play with my hair.”

“Oh trust me, I know.” You chuckle, moving your hand to his cheek just as Nico lifts his head and his gorgeous brown eyes meet yours. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, the playfulness that was evident just seconds ago fading even though the identical tender smiles on your faces continue to grow.

“We don’t get to do this enough.” Nico whispers, gaze never leaving yours as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. You rest a hand on his bare chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and try to commit every detail about this moment to memory. Nothing but pure adoration rushes through your veins as you admire the beautiful man next to you.

“That’s okay. It makes these rare mornings that much more special.”

“I’m going to tell the team we can’t ever have practice until after 10 at the earliest.” Nico grins, his dimples appearing as he laughs at his own little joke.

“You have that power as captain?” You tease, pressing a kiss to his nose, his cheek, and finally his lips. Nico smiles into the kiss before deepening it for a few seconds, bringing out that familiar need for him.

“I don’t really know, but I deserve some more time with my girl so I’ll make it a rule. I don’t care what anyone says.” He mumbles against your lips, voice low and still full of sleep.

Your heart swells as you drink in the sight of your boyfriend. Nico’s eyes are sparkling with love and his sweet smile is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. His hair is a mess but somehow still looks perfect and you absentmindedly trace shapes on his shoulder, feeling the well toned muscles there. 

He is a dream. And despite all odds, you’re the lucky one who gets to love him every single day. That’s something you’ll never take for granted because you never thought you’d find someone as kind, caring and amazing as Nico.

Yet, here you are. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Nico presses another tender kiss to your cheek before pulling away like he’s going to get up.

“Hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?” You tease him, grabbing onto his forearm in an effort to keep him in bed.

“To make breakfast?” Nico replies, more as a question than a statement. His brows knit together in confusion and the cutest look crosses over his facial features.

“Right now? We can’t stay and cuddle for five more minutes?” Nico can’t help but chuckle at the adorable pout you’re putting on display, but doesn’t give into your antics. Instead, he leans down to give you one last kiss before heading towards the bedroom door.

“Yes, right now. By the time you’re done with your morning routine, everything will be ready. I promise. We have all day to be cozy and do absolutely nothing.” He reassures you, that cheeky smile of his blossoming across his lips and bringing out his dimples again.

“Not fair, Neeks!” You call after him, that giddy feeling of happiness rushing through you when you hear his laughter floating down the hallway. After soaking in the warmth for a few more seconds, you reluctantly drag yourself out of bed to shower and get your morning routine done. 

And true to his word, when you enter the kitchen dressed in sweats and one of Nico’s shirts ready for a lazy day in with your boyfriend, you find the counter covered in a full breakfast spread. A mug of coffee made just the way you like it, pancakes for two, maple syrup, hash browns and eggs are all plated and ready to be enjoyed.

“Nico,” You breathe out, shock and awe evident in your voice. Nico is always doing something sweet for you, no matter how big or small, but you weren’t expecting this at all. “What is this for?”

“Just because.” Nico shrugs, a bashful look on his face. His cheeks are pink with blush and those gorgeous brown eyes are twinkling with excitement. “We don’t get many mornings together like this. I wanted to spoil you. Made all your favorites.” He admits before stealing a kiss from you and passing you a full plate he somehow put together without you noticing. 

“I love you.” There’s nothing else you can say. After all the time together, these little gestures still warm your heart and are the kindest reminders of Nico’s love for you.

“I love you too, schatzi. Now come on, let’s eat. We’ve got a whole lot of nothing to do today.” Nico teases, sitting down next to you at the table. 

As you enjoy breakfast together, the two of you talk about everything and anything. Nico tells you some funny stories from practice yesterday and catches you up on all the drama about how Jack likes a girl, but won’t make a move. You fill him in on your latest project at work and how you scheduled a girls day with your best friend for later that week. 

“We’re going to check out that new bookstore in Hoboken! The one right by the restaurant we really like on the waterfront. I’m looking for the next book in the series I’m reading so hopefully they have it.”

Noticing Nico has been quiet the whole time you’ve been talking, your rambling trails off. But before you can ask what’s wrong, your breath is stolen away. Because when you take in the sight of your boyfriend, you see the fondest look on his face. One that you recognize of pure love and adoration. It’s the look of someone who has found exactly where they should be. The look of someone who has found happiness in the simplicity of spending their life with another person. 

“Please don’t ever stop looking at me like that.” You murmur, the words slipping past your lips before you even realize what you’re saying. Nico’s gentle smile just grows, his hand reaching for yours. 

“Like what?” He teases, that familiar playfulness evident through his question. 

“Like nothing else in the world matters but the love that we have. Like you’re the happiest right here with me.”

“I am the happiest with you. Always will be.” Nico whispers before pulling you in for a deep kiss. He says everything with that kiss, words aren’t necessary and wouldn’t do justice to how he feels about you. You melt into his gentle touch, smiling against his lips as everything else falls away for just a moment.

“And you’re right,” He starts when the kiss breaks, his big brown eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing else even compares to the way I love you.” 

And right then, over pancakes and coffee that Nico made you, you know he’s going to be the man you marry. The one you spend the rest of your days with. Because this kind of love is once-in-a-lifetime and you don’t want to go through life without him by your side.

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 3

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 2.3k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: mingyu is only 1/2 idiot. it's gonna make sense soon, i promise. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​ @ca-clover , @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs , @lixisoul99 , @cherrylovescheol , @yuyu1024 , @tacolombe , @black-swan-blog27 , @tulipndtale , @xuimhao , @cookiearmy find other parts here! pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The first rays of sunlight filtered through Y/N's living room curtains, casting a warm glow on Mingyu's sleeping form. He stirred, his face scrunching up as consciousness slowly returned. As he blinked awake, confusion clouded his features. This wasn't his room. This wasn't even his apartment. The unfamiliar ceiling above him swam into focus, and with it came a throbbing headache that made him groan.

Suddenly, the events of the previous night came rushing back in fragmented flashes. The company party. The shattered glass. The burning of soju down his throat. Coming to Y/N's apartment... Mingyu's eyes widened in horror as more details surfaced. Had he really gotten down on his knees and begged Y/N to leave Seungcheol? He groaned again, this time out of sheer mortification, covering his face with his hands.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Y/N's voice came from the direction of the kitchen, tinged with a mix of amusement and something else Mingyu couldn't quite place. Was it concern? Pity? He was afraid to find out.

Slowly, cautiously, Mingyu sat up. The room spun for a moment before settling, and he found himself face to face with Y/N, who stood in the kitchen doorway holding two steaming mugs. She looked tired, with slight shadows under her eyes suggesting she hadn't slept much, but there was a softness in her gaze that gave Mingyu a flicker of hope.

"Y/N, I..." Mingyu started, his voice raspy from sleep and last night's excesses. But Y/N cut him off with a gentle shake of her head.

"Drink this first," she said, stepping forward to hand him one of the mugs. "It's my special hangover cure. Then we'll talk."

Mingyu accepted the mug gratefully, inhaling the strange but not unpleasant aroma. He took a cautious sip, and despite the odd mix of sweet and bitter flavors, he could almost feel it working its magic on his aching head.

As Mingyu sipped his drink, Y/N busied herself in the kitchen. Soon, the apartment was filled with the comforting aroma of coffee and something cooking. The domestic scene struck Mingyu as both familiar and achingly out of reach. How many mornings had he imagined waking up to this very scenario? But not like this. Never like this.

"I hope you're hungry," Y/N called out, her voice carrying a forced cheerfulness that didn't quite mask the underlying tension. "I'm making pancakes."

Mingyu's stomach growled in response, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since before the party. "Sounds great," he managed, his voice a bit steadier now. "Can I... can I help with anything?"

Y/N poked her head out of the kitchen, a small smile playing on her lips. "Just focus on feeling human again. I've got this."

A few minutes later, they sat at Y/N's small dining table, a stack of fluffy pancakes between them. The sight and smell were enticing, but Mingyu found it hard to do more than pick at his food. The gravity of the situation – of what he'd done and said last night – weighed heavily on him.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sounds were the clink of cutlery against plates and the muffled noises of the city waking up outside. Mingyu stole glances at Y/N between bites, trying to gauge her mood. She seemed calm, but there was a tightness around her eyes that betrayed her own unease.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Mingyu set down his fork and took a deep breath. "Y/N, I am so, so sorry about last night. I was completely out of line, showing up here drunk like that. I never meant to put you in that position or make you uncomfortable. It was selfish and stupid, and I—"

Y/N held up a hand, cutting off his rambling apology. She set down her own fork and met his gaze squarely. "Mingyu, before you say anything else, I need to ask you something. Do you... do you remember what happened last night? What you said?"

Mingyu felt heat creep up his neck, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Most of it, yeah," he admitted, dropping his gaze to his half-eaten pancakes. "It's a bit fuzzy around the edges, but... I remember what I said. What I confessed." He forced himself to look back up at Y/N, knowing he owed her that much. "And I meant it. Every word. Even if my delivery left a lot to be desired."

Y/N's expression softened, a mix of emotions flitting across her face too quickly for Mingyu to decipher. She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for something. "Mingyu, there's something I need to tell you. About Seungcheol and me."

Mingyu tensed, bracing himself for the worst. Was this where she told him she was in love with Seungcheol? That his drunken confession had ruined their friendship?

"We're not really dating," Y/N said in a rush, the words tumbling out as if she was afraid she'd lose her nerve if she didn't say them quickly. "It was... it was all fake. A plan to make you jealous."

Mingyu blinked, sure he must have misheard. "What?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair – a nervous habit Mingyu had always found endearing. "I know it sounds crazy, but just... let me explain, okay?"

And so she did. Y/N laid out the whole story – Seungcheol's idea, born out of frustration with the tension between Mingyu and Y/N. The band's involvement, their well-meaning but misguided attempt to push Mingyu and Y/N together. The carefully orchestrated "dates," the inside jokes, the lingering touches – all designed to provoke a reaction from Mingyu.

As Y/N spoke, Mingyu's expression shifted from confusion to understanding to something like wonder. Pieces of the puzzle that had been nagging at him for weeks suddenly fell into place. The knowing looks between the other band members. Seungcheol's sudden interest in Y/N's work. The way Vernon and Wonwoo always seemed to be pushing them together.

When Y/N finally fell silent, Mingyu let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "So, let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You're not in love with Seungcheol?"

Y/N shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No, I'm not. He's a good friend, but that's all."

A smile started to spread across Mingyu's face, hope blooming in his chest. "And everything I said last night... you heard all that knowing it wasn't about breaking you and Seungcheol up, but about us? About how I really feel?"

Y/N nodded, a blush coloring her cheeks. "Yeah, I did."

The realization hit Mingyu like a wave, washing away the last of his hangover-induced fog. He reached across the table, taking Y/N's hand in his. Her skin was soft and warm, fitting perfectly in his larger palm. "Then you know how I feel," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/N, I meant every word. I love you. I have for... god, probably since the moment we met. I was just too scared to admit it, even to myself. But I'm not scared anymore." He squeezed her hand gently. "I want us to be together, for real this time. No games, no pretending. Just us."

Y/N's breath caught at Mingyu's words, and for a moment, he could see everything he felt reflected in her eyes – love, longing, hope. But then something else crept in. Hesitation. She gently extracted her hand from his, and Mingyu felt his heart sink.

"Mingyu, I..." Y/N started, her voice soft but firm. "I can't deny that I have feelings for you too. Strong feelings. But..."

Mingyu's face fell. "But?"

Y/N sighed, pushing her plate aside and leaning forward, her elbows on the table. "But I think we both need some time. To grow, to figure out who we are outside of this... whatever this has been between us." She gestured vaguely between them. "I need to focus on myself for a while."

Mingyu was quiet for a moment, processing Y/N's words. His first instinct was to argue, to plead his case. But as he looked at Y/N – really looked at her – he saw the determination in her eyes, the quiet strength that had first drawn him to her. And he realized that maybe, just maybe, she was right.

Slowly, he nodded. "I understand," he said, surprising himself with how much he meant it. "And you're right. We've both made mistakes, acted out of fear or jealousy or... whatever it was that made us think a fake dating scheme was a good idea." That drew a small laugh from Y/N, easing some of the tension. "Maybe some time to grow individually wouldn't be a bad thing."

Relief washed over Y/N's face. "You're not upset?"

Mingyu smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made Y/N's heart flutter despite her best efforts. "How could I be upset? You're not rejecting me, you're just asking for time. And after everything, I think we both deserve that."

He reached out again, this time just lightly touching Y/N's hand where it rested on the table. "You know, whatever happens, know that I'm yours. Whether as a friend or something more, I'm here. Always."

Y/N couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, bright and genuine. "Barely," she joked, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

It took Mingyu a second to get the reference, but when he did, he joined in her laughter. The sound filled the apartment, chasing away the last of the tension that had hung between them. As their laughter subsided, they found themselves smiling at each other across the table, a new understanding passing between them.

They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence, both lost in thought but no longer weighed down by unspoken feelings or misunderstandings. As Mingyu helped Y/N clear the dishes, he felt lighter than he had in months.

"So," he said as he dried the last plate, handing it to Y/N to put away, "what happens now?"

Y/N closed the cabinet and turned to face him, leaning against the counter. "Now... we focus on ourselves. On our careers, on our personal growth. We figure out who we are as individuals, not just as... whatever we were."

Mingyu nodded, mirroring her pose against the opposite counter. "And us? Where do we stand?"

Y/N smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made Mingyu's heart skip a beat. "Friends," she said firmly. "Real friends this time. No games, no hidden agendas. Just two people who care about each other, supporting each other as we grow."

"Friends," Mingyu repeated, testing the word out. It wasn't everything he wanted, but it was a start. A foundation they could build on. "I like the sound of that."

Y/N pushed off from the counter, closing the distance between them. For a moment, Mingyu thought she might hug him, but she stopped just short, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. "Mingyu," she said softly, "I need you to understand something. This isn't a 'no.' It's a 'not yet.' Can you... can you be okay with that?"

Mingyu felt something warm unfurl in his chest – hope, fragile but persistent. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. "I can be very patient when it's for something worthwhile," he said, his voice low and sincere. "And you, Y/N? You're worth waiting for."

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her smile was radiant. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Mingyu in a tight hug. He returned the embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo, committing this moment to memory.

When they finally pulled apart, both were a little misty-eyed, but there was a newfound lightness between them. The air felt clearer somehow, as if a storm had passed, leaving behind the promise of better days ahead.

Mingyu glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing with a start how much time had passed. "I should probably get going," he said reluctantly. "We have that radio interview this afternoon, and I should probably change and, uh, look less like I spent the night on someone's couch."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to Mingyu's ears. "Probably a good idea. We wouldn't want to start any new rumors, would we?"

As Mingyu gathered his things and made his way to the door, he paused, turning back to Y/N. "Hey, want to get coffee sometime this week? As friends?"

Y/N's smile was answer enough, but she nodded anyway. "I'd like that. Text me?"

"Definitely," Mingyu promised. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N's cheek. "Thank you," he murmured. "For everything."

Y/N's cheeks flushed pink, but her smile never wavered. "Go on, get out of here before I change my mind and keep you hostage."

Mingyu laughed, giving her a mock salute before heading out the door. As he walked down the hallway, he couldn't help but start humming a new melody.

In her apartment, Y/N leaned against the closed door, her fingers lightly touching the spot where Mingyu had kissed her.

[callsign-venus]

Be Mine | Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: It’s a February weekend and Jake has a surprise for you — but you don’t know if you’re ready.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: LOTS of fluff

a/n: My first Jake fic! This was inspired by the fact that I just found out Glen Powell was at my work at the same time as me, and I didn't know (I could have met him 😭). I might have cried a little when my coworker told me lol. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this x

You loved weekends with Jake. You loved the soft falling sunlight that woke you instead of the alarm clock, the extravagant brunches he cooked instead of spoons clanking hurriedly against cereal bowls, and the prospect of spending the whole day together instead of a quick kiss in the doorway and a promise that he’d see you that evening.

So when you, half asleep, reached for him and your hands skimmed over bed sheets instead of his broad chest, you snapped awake, just as if your alarm had gone off.

“Jake?” You rubbed away the sleep in your eyes.

No answer.

Sometimes he worked weekends, but he would have told you if that was the case. And you couldn’t hear him in the kitchen, much less smell bacon or coffee. With a groan, you realized you would have to get up to investigate. You scooped Jake’s naval academy hoodie off the floor and pulled it over your head. It smelled like him, mixed with just a hint of your perfume.

The house was empty, no weekend warmth to chase out the chill that fell whenever you were home alone. It didn’t help that the sun was heavily curtained by dark gray clouds.

On the kitchen counter, there was a folded note. Your name graced the paper in his boyish handwriting.

Good morning sunshine,

I had to run some errands, be back in a few.

If you want to wear something nice, I was planning on taking you to the beach when I get back. I’ll stop and get us breakfast, so don’t cook yourself anything.

Sorry I left before you woke up, I hope you’ll accept my apology.

Love,

Jake

P.S. I love you beautiful

The P.S. was punctuated with a little doodle of you. It wasn’t exceptionally well done, but it made you giggle.

You tucked the note into your pocket and carried it with you to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

You’d nearly finished when you heard his car pull into the driveway. You set down your brush and tore through the house, nearly tackling him with a hug as he walked through the door.

“Woah, precious cargo,” he said, as he wrapped an arm around you, a paper bag full of breakfast tacos crushing against your back. An iced drink sloshed in his other hand.

You pulled back to see he’d also brought your iced coffee order from your favorite cafe. A cold feeling spread through your core.

“Did I forget something? It’s not our anniversary is it?” You asked.

“No,” he laughed. “You didn’t forget anything. Can’t I just treat my girl?”

“Of course.” You took a sip of coffee and tried to let it wash away your unfounded worries. Jake loved treating you, but something about his demeanor felt different, just a little bit on edge. There was a tick in his jaw as he set the bag of breakfast tacos on the table like they were breakable. The cold feeling spread to your fingertips.

It disappeared when you joined him at the table, and a genuine smile softened his features. You dug in, dousing the breakfast tacos in salsa verde.

“So good,” you said.

“I’m gonna have to bring you home, these breakfast tacos have nothing on the ones in Texas.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of going home to Texas with Jake. Plunging into cool watering holes in the peak heat of the day, when the sun scorched so brightly you couldn’t walk outside without sweating. Hot summer nights where cicadas sung and you could see more stars than you ever thought possible. A football game under giant stadium lights, and he’d kiss you when his team won.

You’d never been to the state, but to hear Jake describe it, it was true love. Second only to you, of course.

Jake snuck a few sips of your coffee.

“Hey!” You plucked the cup out of his grasp. “That’s mine. Didn’t you get your own?”

“Already drank it,” he said around a bite of breakfast taco.

Try as you might, you couldn’t stay mad at that face, and you pretended not to notice the next time he stole a sip of your drink.

“So,” you dabbed a napkin to the corner of your mouth after you’d finished your second taco. “What errands did you have to run at the ass crack of dawn?”

“That is a surprise,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yep.” He swept the trash into the takeout bag. “Do you want to go find out?”

You wanted nothing more.

The clouds were like gray marble over the world and the wind ushered a chill into the late morning air. Even though you’d picked out the cutest outfit, you grabbed Jake’s hoodie and threw it on before you walked out the door. It was your favorite piece of clothing – it enveloped you like a hug – but you much preferred Jake himself sitting next to you in the driver’s seat, holding onto your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. With him by your side, everything was better. Even his car smelled sweet, like fresh fruit.

He glared at the cloud cover. “I should have picked a better day.”

“It’s fine. I love this weather.” You rubbed your free hand over his bicep, and his hand relaxed against yours.

Soon, the ocean crested over the horizon. It churned dark gray, like a reflection of the sky, broken only by whitecaps. It wasn’t sunny like the beach days you and Jake had spent with the Daggers the past summer, but the sight was still beautiful.

Jake pulled into a parking lot on the bluffs overlooking the beach. As soon as you got out of the car, a gust of salty wind buffeted you. Jake tried to apologize, but your laugh rang clear over the whipping wind, and he had never known a sweeter sound. If he could hear your laugh for the rest of his life, he would be buried without a single regret.

He grabbed a picnic basket out of the trunk, took your hand, and walked you down to the beach, where the wind was creating chaos out of a picnic blanket and a bundle of pink and red balloons. Jake ran to bring order, but there was nothing he could do against nature itself.

“I’m sorry,” he said. A balloon bounced against his head. “It looked so nice when I set it up. This wind…”

“It’s ok. It’s still beautiful. Thank you.” You pecked him on the cheek. You were thankful, of course, but the surprise picnic loosened something inside of your chest. Why had he planned it? Had you actually forgotten an important day?

You sat criss-cross on the quilted blanket. With your weight holding it down, the blanket stayed in place against the wind. The balloons, however, shed their tether and danced away. Jake sprung up and gave them a quick chase, but they were much faster, and floating up towards the gray sky. He jumped, but he missed the ribbons by a few inches. Still, he ran after them for a few more yards.

When they were well out of reach, Jake jogged back. He was breathing heavily, and sand caked his feet and calves. You stopped him before he could try to apologize.

“I enjoyed them while they were here.” You looked up to see them still floating, heavenbound. “I’m still enjoying them now. Plus, I got to watch you run after them like a dork.”

“Hey!” He protested through strained breath.

“Kidding,” you said.

Jake started unpacking the picnic basket with flair. First, a bouquet of flowers – more than a dozen roses of your favorite color nestled between fluffy baby’s breath and sprigs of soft eucalyptus. Holding it made you feel like a bride.

A pang of anxiety struck you. You loved Jake. You couldn’t imagine your life without him. But you’d been dating less than a year, and you knew the rumors that servicemen moved fast. What would you say if he pulled out a ring?

You didn’t have time to worry; he was already pulling out a bowl of fruit. Strawberries, mangoes, kiwi, some cut into little hearts.

“Did you do this?” You grabbed a slice of kiwi shaped like a heart and popped it in your mouth. When he nodded, you asked, “How? When?”

“In the supermarket parking lot this morning. I brought a cutting board and a knife.”

He was dead serious. The thought of him, cutting board on his dash, carefully carving fruit for you in a parking lot made you laugh. No man had ever done anything that thoughtful for you.

Jake wondered if communion wine was as sweet as your laugh, as capable of salvation. He decided not.

He pulled out a bakery box last, and you noticed how carefully he held it. This must be the surprise. Your chest felt heavy as you imagined what could be inside. 

You didn’t know what you would do if you opened the box to a cake that said Will you marry me? If you looked up and Jake was on one knee, his eyes sparkling like the ring in his hand, launching into a monologue about how he wanted to spend his life with you. Because you couldn’t deny how much you needed him, like cut flowers needed water. This brilliant man whose hard exterior crumbled with one look at you. Who knew you like an extension of himself. Who sat in a parking lot and cut heart-shaped fruit for you because he wanted to see you smile. You would do anything for him to stay yours. Yours to please. Yours to hold. Yours to love.

You couldn’t say no. You couldn’t lose him.

He set the box in front of you and took your hand in his. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for the past few hours.” You gave his hand a squeeze. This was it. You were on the precipice. The ocean roared down below. If he asked you to jump with him, would you?

Your breath caught in your chest as you lifted the lid. Inside, a frilly pink cake. In white frosting on the top, Will you be my Valentine?

A laugh shook you, and relief unfurled under your skin. You wrapped your arms around him with such force that you both fell onto the picnic blanket.

“Yes,” you said as you attacked his perfect face with kisses. “Yes, yes, yes.”

When he couldn’t take your onslaught any longer, he wrapped his giant arms around you and crushed you against his chest. There was no place safer for you in the entire world. You swore your hearts harmonized, both perfectly in time with the beat of the waves against the sand. You could have stayed like that forever, but eventually, Jake succumbed to the sweet allure of the cake and let you go. As he cut into the soft pink shells of buttercream, your mind drifted somewhere to the future. Your hands melded with his around a knife handle, slicing into another cake – this one at least three tiers tall and white.

Jake shook you from your daydream by offering you the first slice of pink cake.

It was delicious. Your favorite flavor and his, married perfectly between layers of dark and pale pink buttercream. As you ate, the impenetrable cloud cover finally yielded to the wind, and the sun stretched its lazy rays over the two of you. Somehow, Jake ended up with a dab of frosting on the tip of his nose. You swiped it away with the pad of your thumb and licked it clean.

You felt some relief at not getting engaged. But with the taste of cake in your mouth, and the golden sun warming Jake’s skin, you felt a tinge of bittersweetness. Maybe some part of you had wanted him to ask, even though it was so soon.

But you looked at the picnic spread – the heart-shaped fruit, the bursting bouquet, even the balloons, long since claimed by the sky – and you were assured it would not be long before he got down on one knee and asked for your hand.

You knew what your answer would be.

[callooopie]

Modern!Davos Blackwood headcannons (pt. 2)

— The hastily written during work break edition —

I get messages from the stars, when you’re making love to me — Messages From the Stars // The Rah Band

i go to college to get more knowledge but why does college interfere with my tumblr writing 😔 I’m not even at school yet and I’ve gotta start kicking into academic gear..

In light of some recent episode developments. I think I’ll rescind the headcannon that his name is Benjicot Davos. It’s just Davos now. (Lowkey… I thought HBO would just honestly write out the character of Benjicot… I was apparently wrong when they just mentioned him ig) anyways new headcannon Davos has a little brother, surprise. Ben’s gotta learn unhinged behavior from somewhere after all.. and what better way to start than with his “cool” older brother.

You know that text post that goes like “Have you ever argued with your girlfriend?” “Nope. She tells me to shut up and I do.” That was actually a text convo between Davos and his friend. He’s dumb, but not stupid. If you tell him to do something he’s doing it (as long as it’s legal… then again he’s really not the type to listen to the law)

He likes slow and domestic mornings. Getting up late, brushing your teeth together. He’ll flick water at you as you’re brushing your hair or doing your skincare routine with the most dopey and tired smile. He knows he’s won when you stop what you’re doing to stare at him with an unamused look. He washes his face like a lunatic though (both hands just furiously rubbing his face with little to no product). He’ll make the coffee and you turn on the tv. Pure silence except for the background noise of a news channel or show. Don’t even get him started on the part where you both fall back asleep on the couch as the sun rises and sunlight funnels in through the curtains. Pure bliss.

He LOVES girls night. How did he get an invite? He didn’t! But he’s quiet and normal, so he gets the girls night pass. It could be just you, or a few friends, even a group. But Davos will be there using the face masks, eating the finger food, drinking the fancy drinks. His girls night pass gets revoked though because he does not pay attention to the talk. He’s too busy devouring the charcuterie board to care about drama! …oh that’s the whole point of girls night? Oh… “Oh—and we like her right? …she’s problematic? …So we hate her? Oh… okay yeah she sounded weird—“

“Unique” pet names. There’s always the classics (love, darling, cutie, honey) but he’s got a few under his belt that turn heads, in a bad way maybe. He starts off pretty tame, he uses “my lady” a lot (chivalry-pilled). “Ma’am” too. “My lady” has a chance to devolve into “my liege” :/ Davos calls you pookie and you call him pookie back. You’re both pookie what can I say (sometimes uses the shortened ‘pooks’). Every single pet name he uses must have ‘my’ in front of it. “Do you want to get that pizza from that one place, my lady? Yeah? Okay—No I can pay don’t worry about it, my lovely.”

If you’re not a gamer, but you like to play in both casual and competitive games with him. The only reason you’re having a pretty good game in a competitive game is because Davos is fighting for his life to give you guys the W. Sometimes you’re a little lost, sometimes you clutch up. But usually it’s him, keyboard furiously clicking, eyes darting around his monitor. His face is literally in the monitor he’s so locked in. And you’re just in the call like (“Aw dang it I died.. woww you make it look so easy!”) “Me? No you’re doing work too—look at all those assists and kills you got. You’re pulling your weight too. You get ‘em low I clean up. It’s these other fuckers on our team that aren’t—“ (he went 30/14/5 and you went 10/21/16)

Regardless of your skills in video games, he gets so hype for you in them. Casual or competitive, he’s screaming about every single achievement you or you both make. A clutch round you win all by yourself? GG EZ TELL EM TO GO NEXT THEY DON’T WANT YOUR SMOKE. You build something in your shared Minecraft world? Stunning, beautiful. The architecture is to die for. The redstone? You did that all yourself? He would’ve thought you followed a tutorial it was so good!

Can eat, will eat. He’s a big strong boy, he’s gotta eat. Which means if you ask for Taco Bell or McDonald’s at 2 am? He’s gonna get some with you! You can honestly just text him an order and he’ll understand right away. This turns into you both driving around late at night, music blasting and you feeding him fries. Speaking of food; he’s a heavy believer in the ‘boyfriend tax’. He will steal a sip of your drink or a bite of your food, regardless of consequences.

I do believe Davos is sassy. It’s like dangerous levels of sass he gives you sometimes. It makes you do a double take. Side-eyes, eye rolls, scoffs, dramatic sighs. He is a drama queen.

How he deals with others who bother you in public can range between normal and not normal. Davos has a few options that run through his mind when you encounter a catcaller or unwanted advances. He can either tell the guy to fuck off, start a fight, start barking at him. He will bark, he has barked. It startled you more than the offending guy. But also Davos knows when to get serious, when to actually deal with someone who’s invading your space or not leaving you alone. He’s a tall dude, he works out. He can be pretty imposing. And he’s not afraid to be the first one to hit or push, especially if the offending man has gotten on his nerves too. And not just because they were trying to flirt or shoot a shot at you.

A big aquarium date guy. Or any date really. Actually, any way he can hang out or be near you is considered a date to him and something that makes his day much better. He likes spending time with you, and he likes showing you off to the public. He gets to walk next to you and say “that’s my date! They’re on a date with me!” It’s perhaps the best part of the whole day, being able to be seen right with you. Even if you’re just a passing couple, two people in the midst of a whole crowd, it’s still something to Davos. And that something tells everyone that you’re his.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Plaid Pajama Morning

Summary: A sleepy Sunday morning with you and Javi in bed

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1K (She's just a baby)

Warnings: Allusions to smut, Javi being a cute lil sleepyhead, reader wears Javi's shirt, sweet fluffy adorableness 🥹

A/N: Shoutout to my dear @endlessthxxghts for letting me harass them with the thought of what Javi would look like with nothing but some good ole pajama pants and messy bedhead- now here we are 🫠 Idk why the thought of this man in pajama pants has me so feral but of well 🤷🏼‍♀️

Can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!

Sunlight spilled through your windows, the soft orange glow painting shadows on your bedroom walls from the curtains dancing in the crisp morning breeze. You gently stirred in your sleep, rustling the sheets and comforter around you, savoring in the warmth radiating from Javi's body as you nestled in closer to him, tucking your head against his chest and hiking up your leg over his. You felt his arm drape over your waist, tugging you in tighter as his thumb drew sleepy circles on the small of your back, the warm breath of his soft snores and dancing fingertips on your skin making a smile spread across your lips in your half awake state. 

Reaching your arm up towards his face, you let your hand cradle his jaw, the scratch of his unshaven morning stubble rubbing against your palm before running your hands through the bed–headed curls at the nape of his neck. A gentle sigh grumbled low in his chest, letting both his arms wrap around you, lightly pressing a kiss in the messy curls of your morning hair. 

The quiet silence of the early hours of the morning hung in the air, the sunrise just now bright enough to have you squinting your eyes, scrunching the sleep out of your face as a yawn bellowed from your belly, making you stretch your arms over Javi’s broad body. Wiggling your fingertips before bringing them back to twisting and tugging at his thick locks, your movement gradually began easing him more and more awake next to you. 

“Good morning.” Javi whispered, pulling you closer to the bare skin of his chest, letting your head lean against him. You couldn’t help but savor in the familiar scent of him lingering in the sheets, the sweet and savory smell of his cologne still idling in the bed, even after being dampened by a night’s worth of rest. 

“Good morning.” You grinned, your voice muffled as your words hit against his warm skin. The two of you lay there for a moment, drinking in the peaceful quiet of your sleepy Sunday morning. 

“How’d you sleep, Hermosa?” Javi cooed, letting out his own yawn, flexing his arms above his hand before making their way back to your body, letting his hands creep under the hem of his shirt that you had worn to bed last night, sliding his fingers up and down the fabric. 

“Good. I think the sunrise woke me up, sorry if I woke you up, too.” You sighed, rustling in the sheets, pulling them closer towards your face as the chill of the brisk December air filled your room, making you shiver and Javi chuckle as you wiggled against him. 

“Shhhh, don’t be sorry, Osita. Glad I got to wake up to my favorite view. The sunrise is pretty nice, too.” Javi smirked, now awake enough to let his lips find yours, a tender kiss catching the quiet chuckle escaping your mouth. 

“God, you’re so cheesy.” You giggled, gently shaking your head as you looked up to let your eyes meet with his, the dark brown glistening in the sunlight, making your heart melt just as fast as the first time you locked on to them. 

“It’s true.” Javi grinned, planting another soft kiss on your lips as he wrapped both his arms around you pulling you so close, that you thought your bodies would meld together as one. “You want coffee?” 

“I’m not sure why that’s even a question, Jav.” You teased, playfully raising an eyebrow at your husband, letting the hand resting along his jaw give his cheek a little squeeze. “Yes, please.” 

With one more kiss presses against your forehead, Javi let out a grunt as he rolled out of bed, running his hand through his hair and along the back of his neck before reaching down to grab a pair of pajama pants he had begrudgingly begun to wear as he accepted defeat that the warm weather of the late summer and early fall was long gone. While it was cold enough for pajama pants, Javi had still not deemed it cold enough for a shirt, which you couldn’t complain about in the slightest. 

Even with his body still slouched and sleepy, you couldn’t help but admire the muscles of his back as he stretched, your eyes trailing from the broadness of his shoulders to his waist, where his plaid pajamas sat low on his hips, the elastic waistband barely making it high enough to keep from falling off. His tanned and toned skin glowed in the morning light, accompanied by the wild curls of his untamed bedhead.  

You turned over, laying on your side as you rested your hand in your chin, elbow propped against the mattress as you watched Javi disappear out of the bedroom, only to return a few minutes later with two mugs, steam curling off their tops. Setting black Laredo’s Sheriff's Department mug on his nightstand, he passed the well loved and worn “Empire Strikes Back” cup off to you, and the goofy grin plastered across your face as you watched his broad body stride across the room, back towards you.  

“What’s that look for?” Javi smirked, sliding back into bed with you, shuffling himself under the sheets. 

“What? I’m not allowed to admire the view either?” You giggled, biting down on your lip before taking a sip of your coffee, letting the warm liquid run through your body and making your eyes widen just a bit further at the sight of your devastatingly handsome husband sitting next to you. 

“And I’m the cheesy one.” Javi teased, carefully grabbing your mug out of your hands and setting it down next to his before rolling over to cage your body under his, peppering ticklish kisses across your face and neck, making you squeal and squirm from his playfully loving touch. 

“Wow, teasing me and stealing my coffee before I’m even all the way awake? You’re playing risky games there, babe.” A mischievous grin spread between your lips as Javi’s kisses began to travel their way down your body, his head beginning to disappear under the covers, stopping at your stomach and peeking back up at you with a boyish smirk. 

“I think I know something that will wake you up just fine.” 

Taglist

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan adjusting to this new timeline, becoming sober, and Wade somehow finding Logan's dog tags. ~4k words.

(Tw: Logan's a depressed recovering alcoholic with survivor guilt, unofficial proposal, canon usual implied sex jokes, Logan tries to flirt but fails)

To my wife. Who's halo lit up my dark life to see just how many doors were available to me when I couldn't see them myself<3

He offers him his to wear as a cutesie matching necklace type of thing but Logan is hesitant to take them, scared of what will come of it. He does it anyway though because he sees how happy Wade is wearing his.

What he refuses to tell him though is that just hearing the tags jingle makes him jump, flinch, his heart rate rises, and his mind floods with scenes he's worked so hard draining every bar he could find dry just so he could forget.

For me, I, too, am a man with deeply rooted animal instincts and was raised to behave like an obedient pet instead of the animal they made me.

An animal trained to take orders. A soldier without his post is miserable and constantly is either trying to find it again or defend himself from ever having to go back to a post to begin with.

You aren't good enough for them if you obey what they say and excel past the standards. But you aren't good enough if you question their authority and make choices for yourself either. Hoizer comes to mind.

Running with the bulls

Working my miracles

Holding my world together with a boot string

His night terrors are worse, more frequent, constantly a battle between wanting to protect and defend the less fortunate to saying, 'No, I'm done with that. It's none of my business, It’s someone else's problem now.'

He wakes up screaming, claws drawn, every possible sense he has to run activated, panting, gasping almost for air. He's panting, heaving deep but quick breaths, all of the hairs on his arms raised like a cat who just heard a dog barking after having gotten attacked as a kitten.

Living the dream

Benzos and gasoline

Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He wakes to the sunlight in his face, gets up, stretches, takes his Valium. Eats some toast, calls it breakfast, gets dressed for his weekly AA meeting. The moment he steps inside it smells like Gasoline. Sweet honey scented lies that he hates to admit that he knew all too well. ‘It was only one’ ‘I asked for a virgin one but they brought me the wrong one’ ‘I'm trying, I really am..it's just.. hard’ He's heard them all before but the last one he could relate to the most.

Coming home at night, Logan puts his face into the back of his partner's neck, hugging him from behind as he offers to watch a cowboy movie marathon with him. He barely eats, only taking what Wade gives him or shoves in his mouth like the now spilled popcorn that was all over the ground, His boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while the “Dvd” bounces back and forth on the blue screen.

Wade never likes it but recently he's been drinking coffee at night, pacing back and forth as he searched online for a job. Kept himself far from the nightmares that were trying to catch up with him.

If I tell you this is drowning

You tell me I'm walking on water

I could bring fire from the mountain

You tell me it feels a little colder

Everyone was telling him how good he was doing, how well he was adjusting, how happy they were that he was here and yet.. He didn't feel like he deserved it. Any of it. Not the second chance, not the love and support of all his new family, not the affection from the man who whispered how proud of him he was each night..

It doesn't help his mental status when multiple jobs reject him either. Interviews don't exactly go that well when you have claws for hands and a reputation for having a temper.

“I'm sorry we're looking for someone with more… experience.. in this field. You need an entry level job.”

“Woah dude! You are WAY too qualified to be working here! you should try looking for something higher up, yeah?”

“I'm sorry. You're too much of a liability.”

“Oh my god- You're the Wolverine!”

“Yes.. but uhm.. No.. I'm just Logan now.”

“Wait, why are you applying here? This is a cashier position.”

“I'm aware..”

“Aren't you like… an X-men?”

“N-no… not anymore.”

“Oh… Did they fire you?”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“Are.. these questions part of the interview?”

What kind of man was he if he couldn't even get a damn job at McDonald's? It felt useless. Like everybody wanted something different from him, but no one was happy either way. Never pleased with his resume or his reputation. You would think being an ex X-man would make it easy. Of course someone would want to hire a superhero? Right? Wrong.

I don't wanna

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier

Just let me look a little older

It seemed everyone wanted him to rejoin the X-men and as much as he missed that mansion upstate, it wasn't his. So many times he's been told stories about himself that he didn't even remember …well.. because it wasn't him. They wanted The Wolverine.

Their Wolverine.

Not Logan.

There was always that spot at the dealership with Peter. Now that Wade was back on his role with mercenary stuff and doing more “Favors” with Colossus, Negasonic and Yukio, that position was open. Part of him- No. Scratch that. All of him was happy for Wade. He seemed to be enjoying life so much more now that he felt he had purpose. But what was his purpose? Selling cars?? Definitely not. Even if it was, they were looking for something else anyway.

“It says here that you are 286 years old. Is that a typo?”

“Oh- uhm… No..”

“I see…Well we are currently looking for someone… younger.. to fill that spot. Sorry.”

But they were never actually sorry. He could smell it.

Coming home from the failed hunt, he felt like an older lion losing its pride to a younger male lion. Well- if lions could develop arthritis in their knees and hands. Once a day he'd pop out his claws, just to keep them ready though he felt like he hadn't used them in such a long time… Maybe he really was turning into an old house cat like wade said.

Sitting in their shared bedroom, he was grumbling to himself, grunting as he tried to get his claw unstuck. This wasn't the first time they locked up and he feared it wasn't the last either.

He snapped his head up at the sound of tags. Around the corner came who he expected, Wade, quickly hiding his hand under the blanket. Coming in, his eyes widened.

“Woah wolvie! Without me? Really? I would have gladly done it for you.”

At first Logan wanted to thank him for offering to help before quickly realizing that from how his hand was under the blanket, it did look suspiciously like adult alone time.

“T-that's not… no.”

“M'kaay. If you say sooo~”

“H-how uhm.. How was work?”

Watching as he began to grab shower clothes and take off his mask, He smiled.

“Oh you know! Watching the life drain from peoples eyes and what not as they beg for their life! The usual.”

“Oh.. that's.. fun?”

“Extremely liberating stuff.”

Watching as he began to strip, He swallowed, wishing he'd leave already so he could finish shoving the claw back into his skin.

Let me step a little bolder

I don't wanna

Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asked, Beginning to walk around butt naked in nothing but his tags.

“U-uhm… No. No thanks, I had one this morning.”

“D'awwww what? Worried i'll see your peanuts? News flash baby, I've had those things down my throat! And I will say. They're better salty anyways~”

All this teasing changed his monotone face into a small goofy smile as he came close, crawling up into his lap, taking hold of his cheeks as he kissed his nose.

“What's wrong? Did you not get the job?”

He was so envious of how he could say such dirty things. Wade was so confident and yet so shy about his face. It made him think of when he was that confident in himself too. (Probably overly confident if we're being honest) Oh that was so many years ago… he'd never get that back. And honestly? He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Logan said nothing but it was all the answer wade needed.

“I see. Well you'll get’em next time, Right?”

He looked away. Ashamed. Here Wade was, being overly supportive, giving him everything, and still he couldn't find a single happy bone in his body.

Shifting his leg to reassure him more, His knee was placed on the claw, yipping. “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I… I can't.. i-it won't..”

And on top of all that, he just hurt him. Man he sucked at this. All of it. Every little bit of it.

Pulling his hand away, Logan's eyes looked over Wade just as quick as it happened, Trying to see if he was bleeding only to jolt.

“Hey- shh.. Calm down. You're alright.” Grabbing his wrist, he carefully moved the tags that had gotten stuck on the claw.

“What's got you all riled up, Kitty? The interview couldn't have been that bad.”

But what he didn't know is that it WAS that bad.

Instantly Logan broke down, breaking heavily as he began to sob, gritting his teeth as he put his non-stuck hand on his face, wanting to hide. He felt pathetic. Useless. Weak. All of the things he fought not to be.

“Ooh, Honey come her-” Wade reached a hand out, trying to console him only to be shoved away.

“Don't!! I-.. I'm tired of hurting people! That's not who I want to be!”

“Baby cakes, it was an accident-”

“No!! Eveyone wants the Wolverine until the fucking wolverine is actually acting like the Wolverine!” He shouted, trying not to choke on his own tears.

Tilting his head, Wade blinked as if he wasn't aware of what he was talking about, but why would he? Logan hasn't told him anything negative for the past 2 weeks. Keeping it all bottled up, trying to push it deep down but that wasn't him. He couldn't handle it anymore.

“Everyone just keeps saying I should join the X-men again and i-” Wilson put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the most serious he has ever been in his entire life.

“Logan, If that's what you want we'll make it work. It's only an hour drive, and i'm sure I could visi-”

“Wade!! Shut. Up! I don't…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he began to apologize, whispering he was sorry for yelling at him.

“I-it's not your fault.. I.. I don't..”

Wade was patient, Nodding, encouraging him to open up with his words. He knew when it was time to zip it and let him talk. Now was one of those times. It was his turn to listen.

“I don't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to fight to begin with but… It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm not good at anything else.. My whole life I've just been jumping team after team and they all eventually die or I just get kicked out for not understanding the power of team work or whatever. Hell, I've been through three different wars and every single time I ran away! Like a damn dog with its tail between its legs! All except the times I was TOLD to run and I didn't. Fuck, Wade! 3 fucking wars and I can't even take orders right!!”

Honey, I'm taking no orders

Gonna be nobody’s soldier

It was now Wade's turn to try to stifle a laugh, snorting as he covered his mouth.

“What's so fucking funny?! That your boyfriend is a sad pathetic loser who can't even get his hands to listen to him!?”

Now he burst out laughing, starting to giggle.

“You're over here talking about not being able to take orders and not being good enough for a team while talking to the same guy who can't even GET on a team and was kicked out of Canadian special forces because I didn't listen to a single thing they said! And you think I care if you ‘can't take orders’ ??” He said this last part in a mocking tone, trying hard to be serious but couldn't.

Logan's eyebrows scrunched with a skeptical glare, tears still dripping down his face, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

Cupping his face again, Wade smiled ear to ear, their foreheads together. “You're much dumber than the comics make you out to be if you think I'd care about anything like that. You honestly think I'd care if you don't want to be anyone's soldier? Why do you think I'm my own boss? The world isn't built for guys like us, baby. And if you wanna open a coffee shop or- pursue your dreams of photography, or hell! Even bird watching for all I care, I will still love you. We will make it work. No matter what you choose to do. Even if you don't get a job at all. Do you understand?”

The man started into his eyes, seemingly frozen as he processed all that he said.

“Logan..”

“Hm?”

“You gotta nod hon, we've talked about this.”

Slowly nodding, indicating that he understood, the tears got thicker as he pulled himself into Wade's shoulder, sobbing more.

“Oooh There there… There's my big strong man..” Wrapping his arms around him, he was careful of the single knife still out. Sitting him up, he rubbed the side of his face as he kissed the other cheek, only to gasp.

“GAASSSPP!! Peanut!”

“What!?” His grip tightened around his waist as he looked around urgently, immediately sniffling and starting to wipe his eyes.

“You're getting greys!” He coed, reaching up to pluck a single gray hair from the beast, who flinched. “Ouch..”

Leaning back, Wade held the hair in front of his face, His smile still wider than ever.

“You're turning into A silver fox, wolvie!”

“W-what?”

“Ooh I bet you're gonna be so handsome! Eehh!” Hugging him again, tight around his neck.

Blushing, He wasn't sure what had just happened. How him venting and crying out of the rage he felt to Wade fangirling over one of his single hairs.. though.. I guess it made sense for your bald boyfriend to monitor yours. Wade has even made him start using a fancy shampoo that made his hair a lot softer, curlier, and Less greasy.

“.. you..You're excited that i'm getting old..??”

“Duh! I've always wanted to be a hot silver daddy's sugar baby!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Don't worry about it- Oh hey look! Your claw went back in.”

Looking at his hand, he made a fist and opened it a couple of times, blinking, oblivious. “...How did you do that?”

But what he didn't realize is that the stress was flowing out of him, and the relief that Wade seemed to be obsessed with him no matter what had calmed him down enough for it to slide back in itself.

“I didn't do anything, sweetheart. You opened up. Let it out. All that stress isn't good for you, you know. How do you think I ended up looking like this?” He joked, giggling.

For some reason, He laughed too, finding this a bit funny.

“Do you feel better? Hm?”

“Nngh..”

“I'll take that as a yes.” The naked man whispers, kissing him with his arms lazily on his shoulders, glad that he was able to cry in front of him. Twas a very manly thing to do and there was no one more manly than the Wolverine himself.

“Alright. I'm gonna go shower. I stink worse than you do after being out in the rain.” You know, wet dog and all. Pulling away, there was a clang and a tug at both of their necks, the tags becoming stuck together, making wade smirk more. “I think these tags don't want me to go.”

Quickly frowning, Logan swallowed, moving to take his off, pulling up his hand as he held it, putting the tag inside of it, closing his fingers.

“Wha..I-... what are you doing?”

“Wade.. I..” He sighs, looking away with a nervous pout, Grunting a bit from frustration. Why did words have to be so difficult?

“Are you breaking up with me?!”

“What!? No! I-.. I don't..”

See what Logan didn't know was that Wade had viewed these as promise rings, the equivalent of engagement even but he was okay with never actually getting married. As long as he got to wear the dress in his closet and dance with him he wouldn't mind if it was legal or not. He understood fully that not everyone wanted to marry the stage 4 cancer patient whose skin looked like turkey bacon that was somehow raw and burnt at the same time.

“You don't what? Do you.. want something else? We can get rings! Do you want rings?” shifting to sit closer to him, Wade was obviously becoming upset about this, untangling the tags and looking at him with those big brown puppy eyes.

“Rings…?”

He could see the gears in his head trying their best to turn as he thought what he meant.

“How would we make them into rings?” He finally asks and to Wade, this was basically a proposal.

Sitting up more he began clapping excitedly the same way he did when seeing puppins again about 8 months ago. “Eeh!! Yes!!”

His head turns, Giggling. “I would've taken it in front of the subway like Sanda Bullock but this works too!”

Logan, like a dumb ass, looked too, knowing full well he wouldn't see anyone but still always looked anyway. “Who??”

“Oh I'll show you later! What size are you?”

“In rings?”

“No, your cock, Of course in rings!”

“Hey now- I never agreed to a cock ring, Wade. No.”

The serious tone and the way he pointed his finger at him made him laugh more, taking his hand as he kissed it. “We'll figure it out. Okay so after my shower, I'll call a guy I know. I think Forge would do a much better job but I feel like he'd say no.” He began rambling about how cute they would be and how excited he was, climbing off of his lap (finally) and started to walk off.

“W-wade!” He called, swallowing again, nervous to ask him to listen.

“What? You wanna come shower?”

“No- well.. maybe but..”

Again he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying his best to be patient but it was hard not talking for 0.5 seconds.

“It's not that.. I don't like them. It's just.. I got those a long long time ago.. and I don't want to be the man those belonged to. Not anymore. And it's not that I don't think about rejoining all the time, it's just.. I want to live my life the way I want too. Charles always said that at the end, we'd get to live how we deserve. That's my time. My time is now. I want to sit on a porch somewhere out west and watch the horses graze. I wanna sit around doing nothing with Puppins in my arms. I want… I want to be with.. with you.”

He admitted, and for once Wade was the one speechless.

“I don't want you to visit. I want to live with you. But not here. I want to go somewhere quieter. Somewhere I can just be.. Logan..”

Putting a hand on his chest as he explained, he didn't see his smile move, not a smidge, watching as he bit his lip and covered his mouth trying to stay quiet until he was done.

“Of course I still want to help people though! Protect them from other worse people… I'm just tired of being someone's toy soldier all the time. I want to do what I think is right but.. also have time to listen to you sing when cooking and take Puppins to the dog park. I want to protect..Us.” Yeah. That felt right. Us. Both of them, all of them. Together. His family.

“B-besides.. If I became an X-men again I don't think I could do it. I could barely sleep back then thinking about all the screams.. the people I couldn't help. I don't think I would be able to get over the fact that I can't save everyone… But I definitely want to try to at least save a few people. Take care of them… all of them. Even if they don't think they need help.” He smiled a bit, taking a huge breath as the stress was relieved from his shoulders.

“Alright you can talk now because I'm never doing that ever again, that was super embarrassing.” He muttered, flushed as he looked down at his lap.

The second he gave him permission to speak, Wade screamed, a scream that made Logan's eyes widen and look at him with a slow blink. “....what was tha-”

Immediately he was pulled up from the bed, picked up and squeezed tightly as he jumped around. Grunting some, he held on tight, feeling a little nauseous. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was.

Still screaming, Wade was extremely excited about all that was just said, Logan admitting that he wanted a serious future with him was a lot better news than he could have ever wished for.

“Put me down!... Wade!... I'm gonna throw up!” He said, whining that he was given uppies non consensually. Even he couldn't help but laugh though in response to his giggles. God that laugh was so annoying and yet his world would feel pointless without it.

Putting him down, Wilson grabs his cheeks, petting his beard. “Ooh Logan.. I don't need protection.. because I can't get pregnant. But if I ever find out that I can, I'll definitely hire you.” He jokes, causing more blushes as his hand comes up to Wades, nuzzling into it for a moment.

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. And while I won't stop you, how about you be your own soldier for a bit? Tell yourself how to live. Not anyone else. And i'll be behind you, wearing a shirt with your ugly mug on it, supporting you the whole way. Got it?”

“Aye! I'm not ugly!”

“No you are not! I've barely been home for 20 minutes and am already so wet. I haven't even taken a shower yet “ he mumbles casually as he begins walking away.

“Heh.. Hey…erm Wade?”

“Yes, love?” Just about to leave the room, he turns, smiling gently at how talkative his fiancé was.

Logan blushes more. “I uhm.. If I'm nobody's soldier… can your name be nobody?”

Wade looks confused at first, now it's his turn to figure out what he was saying.

“Cause.. if your name is nobody then i'd be.. nevermind.” Waving A hand, he glanced at his shoes, stuffing his hands in his pocket having just fumbled that line completely.

Within seconds, Wade was back in that room, giving him the sloppiest, deepest kiss that was available, kissing him all over.

“Oh Logie! You're so sweet! But leave the flirting to me, mkay? I don't need you throwing your back out trying too hard.” He pats his chest, grabbing his hand as Wade drug him by the wrist.

They both laugh as they enter the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Treat You Like A Queen, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Rafe shows Y/N that chivalry isn't dead.

A/N: This is inspired by this.

Masterlist

Dating Rafe Cameron has been a whirlwind experience. No one thought that he could be a sweetheart or care so much for another human being. But when it comes to Y/N Y/L/N, he shows the world his chivalrous side. They are exiting the restaurant when the storm clouds start to form. The once clear dark sky is now being filled with gray cotton candy. They hadn’t planned for rain; it wasn’t supposed to come, so the couple had no jackets or umbrellas to protect them during their walk back to his car. Rafe was there while she spent an hour straightening her hair and he watched as she flinched away from the first drop that tumbled from the sky. He also knew that she spent another hour on her makeup. With nothing else to cover his girlfriend, he starts unbuttoning his collared shirt out of her sight. He catches up to her just as she is about to cross the street. He twists his shirt over her head to shield her from the dribbling sky. 

She looks up to examine the material and her eyes widen at the realization as to what it is. She tries to pull the shirt down, “Rafe, put your shirt back on. You are going to get sick.” “I’m fine. It's summer. I’m warm enough. Let me treat you like a queen, Angel,” he retorts, standing his ground. Her eye contact shies away from him. The rest of the walk to his car is silent. 

———

The crowded library only has one source of noise emitting from it and that’s how Y/N knows where to go to find her boyfriend. She arrives at the table at the back to find all the seats around it occupied. She is about to search for a chair elsewhere when Rafe stands up and holds the chair out for her. She hesitantly takes a step forward, “Are you sure, Rafe? I can go look for another chair.” “It’s okay. I want to stand anyway. I need to stretch my legs,” he objects, coming around the chair to wrap his arms around her shoulders. He kisses her cheek and she leans back in his hold. “Thank you, Rafe,” she whispers. 

———

Her deep slumber is coming to an end as the sunlight creeps in through the curtains. She rises from her lying position and the aroma of freshly ground coffee fills her nose. She knows what the smell means. She snuggles further into the blanket and waits for his door to slowly open. He steadily walks through with her Minnie Mouse mug in one hand and his Mickey Mouse one in the other. He comes around to her side of the bed, kissing her forehead while placing the mug on her side table. “Good morning, Angel.” She beams at him as she goes to take a sip from her drink, “Good morning. And thank you for the drink.” He settles into his side of the bed and slings an arm over her shoulders to pull her into a cuddle. “No problem. What should we watch?” he asks, picking up the remote from his side table. “Hmm, let’s watch Bodies.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama

[cherryredlove]

☆ chinese takeaway ☆

Modern!au Aemond Targaryen x Reader

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Your bestie and flatmate Helaena proposes a banging evening plan: get her brothers over, get a chinese takeaway, and binge the Lord of the Rings. It also helps her second brother Aemond is pretty easy on the eyes and also loves Tolkien.

Word Count: 1.5k

Themes: fluuuuuufff (veeery OOC lol but i need some sweetness rn), content warning of cigarettes and drinking

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Living with Helaena Targaryen is an adventure in itself. She's a wonderful flatmate and best friend. You bonded pretty quickly with her when you both signed up for Valyrian classes at your university, Blackwater Uni, in King's Landing. Her quirky charm is infectious, and the flat you both share is filled with small terrariums and ethereal string lights that make everything feel like a dream. Every night, the pair of you cook together and look after Helaena's array of babies, even if the spiders make you a bit squeamish. You love her, you love her family too.

It’s a lazy Saturday morning after a cheeky pub trip the night before when Helaena bursts into your room with a bright smile, her platinum blonde hair shining in the sunlight streaming through the window.

“I have an idea!” she announces, plopping down on the bed beside you and nearly knocking your jewellery box Nyra got you from Lys off your bedside table.

“You have lots of those, careful not to hurt yourself,” you tease, setting aside the book you were pretending to read for your latest university essay.

“I think we should have a get-together here tonight. A family night! You, me, and my brothers. We could do a Lord of the Rings marathon!” she pokes your arm, wiggling her eyebrows. She knows your weaknesses to a tee.

The thought of hosting a cosy evening (with some extracurriculars) sounds delightful. You’ve always had a soft spot for her brothers, especially Aemond. There's something about his intense gaze and quiet demeanour that draws you in, and your mutual love for all things Tolkien only deepens that sweet connection.

“That sounds perfect,” you agree. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just be your wonderful self!” Helaena grins. “I’ll take care of snacks, and Aegon said he’d handle the food.” You raise your eyebrows. Sounds like this night was happening regardless of your opinion. You grab a pillow and thwack Helaena, who screams lightly and crumples onto the floor, laughing her ass off.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

As the day transitions into evening, the flat transforms into a snug haven. Soft fairy lights cast a warm glow, and the aroma of freshly popped popcorn fills the air. You and Helaena arrange an assortment of snacks on the coffee table, including gummy worms (Helaena’s favorite), chocolate-covered pretzels (your favourite) and a colourful array of fruits (only Daeron will touch them).

Aegon arrives first through the door, arms laden with bags of Chinese takeaway and closely followed by his blond brothers. His carefree grin is infectious as he sets the bags down and immediately begins sorting through the contents.

“Alright, listen up! I got everything. Chicken chow mein for me, sweet and sour pork for Daeron, Kung Pao chicken for Helaena, and Aemond, you get your usual, Szechuan beef.” He looks at you with a cheeky smile. “And for our lovely host, your favourite, vegetable dumplings and egg fried rice.”

You smile, touched by Aegon’s thoughtfulness. The last time you'd gotten Chinese was after Baela's birthday 3 months ago, and whilst you expected him to remember your chippy order, this was quite sweet. “You remembered.”

“Of course,” he winks, settling onto the couch with his carton of noodles.

Daeron dives right into his sweet and sour pork, chatting animatedly about his latest adventures at university. He's like a sweet younger brother to you, and you ruffle his hair when he tries to nick some of your dumplings.

Aemond's presence is a bit quieter but no less significant. He offers you a small smile, one that you return warmly, feeling your heart skip a beat.

"Hiya Aemond," you say. He nods, passing you his fortune cookie. He's not the biggest fan, you remember, quite touched he gave it to you and not Helaena, who huffs comically at her loss.

With everyone settled, the movie marathon begins. You and Aemond exchange knowing glances as the opening scenes of 'The Fellowship of the Ring' play. Both of you gaze quite longingly at The Shire, and you feel your heart stutter a little when Aemond glances at you when Arwen declares her love for Aragorn. The moment is broken by Aegon cracking open a Strongbow cider and tossing you a pre-mixed vodka soda can. You sigh lightly and settle in for the movie.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

As 'The Two Towers' progresses, Aegon sprawls across the couch, lazily consuming anyone's uneaten cold noodles, while Daeron animatedly discusses his favorite characters (Merry and Boromir) with Helaena, who favours Galadriel most of all.

"Imagine how useful the gift of prophecy would be," she dreams aloud. "I'd know all the answers on my entomology exams."

You find yourself nestled comfortably between Aemond and the armrest, stealing glances at him whenever Aragorn and Arwen share the screen. His focus is unwavering, and you find yourself asking him about his opinions of the plot, as if you both haven't watched a million times. It's worth it for the smile he gives you as he describes his love of Faramir. You argue Theoden's case with such passion that he laughs so loudly even Aegon is startled out of a snooze.

By the time 'The Return of the King' reaches its climactic battle hours later, Aegon is fast asleep, snoring lightly with an empty carton resting on his stomach. Daeron and Helaena aren’t far behind, having dozed off to the comfort of the couch, nestled under soft blankets.

That leaves just you and Aemond, the room silent save for the movie's soundtrack and the rhythmic breathing of the others.

You catch Aemond’s eye during the scene where Aragorn is crowned king, and Arwen finally steps forward. You like how Arwen and Aragorn's love is quiet almost, all words expressed through gazes. You feel your heart constrict a bit when Aemond holds your hand for the departure of Bilbo.

As the credits roll, Aemond stretches and stands, offering you a hand. “Care to step outside for some fresh air?” he suggests.

You nod, taking his hand as he leads you to the balcony. The night air is cool against your skin, and the city lights twinkle like distant stars. King's Landing is a great city to live in. You love it dearly.

Aemond pulls out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one. You accept, though you really only smoke for special occasions. You cringe remembering Jace's 18th at Dragonstone nightclub where you tried to chainsmoke. Thank Gods Aemond was there with water to help you.

The two of you stand in comfortable silence, the smoke curling up into the night sky.

“Thank you for tonight,” Aemond says softly, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

You smile, exhaling a puff of smoke. “I should be thanking you. I loved every minute.”

He turns to you, a hint of vulnerability in his expression. “You know, Aragorn and Arwen’s story always resonated with me. The idea of finding someone who sees you for who you truly are...”

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. You feel your heart flutter, warmth spreading through you like the gentle glow of a hearth.

“I know what you mean,” you reply, meeting his gaze. “It's about finding someone who understands the depths of your soul.” Big words for a young girl at uni, and usually you'd cringe at such dramatic speeches that are reserved for club toilets with the girls after too many tequila shots, but with Aemond, poetics seem right.

Aemond steps closer, the distance between you shrinking until it's almost nonexistent. The world around you fades, leaving only the two of you bathed in moonlight.

His voice is barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve found that person.”

Your breath catches, the world standing still. The sincerity in his eyes is undeniable, a reflection of your own heart laid bare.

In that moment, words are unnecessary. The connection you share speaks louder than anything you could say.

With a gentle touch, Aemond cups your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin.

And then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, his lips find yours in a kiss that’s both tender and profound. It’s a promise and a realization, a moment that feels like the culmination of every shared glance and whispered conversation over years of your friendship. His lips are warm and soft, and you feel perfect.

When you finally part, the world around you slowly comes back into focus, the sounds of the city distant and gentle. Aemond smiles, a rare and genuine smile that lights up his entire face.

“Let’s make this a tradition,” he suggests, his voice laced with hope. “Movie marathons, Chinese takeout, and us.”

You nod, your heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

As you stand together on the balcony, the night stretches on, filled with endless possibilities and the promise of new beginnings. It’s a moment that feels both timeless and fleeting, a memory you’ll hold close for years to come.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: im sorry i love writing modern aus, especially for characters that just never stop suffering lol. i just love adding in easter eggs and references to the series and imagining the targs as party animal cuties, not kinslaying weirdos. check out my masterlist for more stuff like this, plz send in any ideas or requests xx

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

YOU DRINK YOUR COFFEE BLACK AND WE ARE AFRAID OF EACH OTHER ; SHOKO IEIRI

synopsis; shoko makes you a morning cup of coffee; turns out she’s not very good at that, but it’s the thought that counts.

word count; 4.2k

contents; shoko ieiri/reader, gn!reader (but written w a fem!reader in mind), fluff fluff fluff!!, just normal morning shenanigans at the ieiri household, implied stsg (my brand), shoko can be a girlfailure. as a treat, reader is absolutely whipped (and so am i)

a/n; been writing too much gojo n geto lately. neglecting my wife :((((((( let it be known that i am a shoko stan first human second. this one is for my wlws pls eat up!!!!

you wake up to the sound of your girlfriend’s voice.

melodic and soft, low and saccharine; almost like she’s coaxing you out of hiding. a sound so lovely you wish you could drown in it, laced together with a distinctly raspy tilt, one you can only attribute to the copious amounts of cigarettes she smoked back in high school. a leftover residue, bittersweet memories ghosting her lips — one that gets you a little bit weak in the knees.

in the mornings, it’s particularly prominent, a little intoxicating. manifesting itself as a shiver down your spine, a jolt of your heartbeat, a flush on your skin for every word that she speaks. it’s enough to have you slipping from sleep’s embrace, carried back into the cradle of reality.

why you notice her voice first, and not the smell of something burning — or the sound of insistent beeping — is honestly beyond you. 

it doesn’t take long for your sleepy brain to react, however, a pang of anxiety rushing through your slumbering veins. hurriedly stirring you awake. abrupting your dreamlike, drowsy state, tangled up in silken sheets with your neck smudged by lipstick marks; an alluring red, one shoko typically favors when she’s going out for a drink. coming home just a tiny bit tipsy, affectionate and giggly.

and when your eyelids finally flutter open, your mind melting into the motion of the waking world, you shoot up in a sudden bout of panic.

because fuck, you belatedly, groggily realize — that’s the fucking fire alarm.

and shoko is spewing curses, from afar, loud enough that you can hear it even through the fog of fatigue that clouds your brain. a raspy string of words that you don’t quite catch, but they’re enough to have you scrambling out of bed, nearly bumping into the doorframe as you kick the blanket off your legs.

”what happened?” you croak out, chest heaving a little, having stumbled into the smoke-filled kitchen. disgruntled, reeling with the aftermath of your deep slumber, cold air nipping at your bare skin. the balcony door is open, and the smell of rain invades your apartment.

when you look out the window, all you see is a gray sky, blanketed by a thick coating of wool. smothered by clouds, not a single ray of sunlight slipping through the cracks. the world smells dewy and sweet, asphalt and flowers melting into a nostalgic fragrance, one that reminds you a bit of high school smoke breaks — huddling under the slide at the nearest playground, watching a pretty girl wrap her lips around a cigarette, exhaling smoke just for it to melt into the pouring rain.

one that reminds you a bit of the woman right in front of you, balancing on a chair and stretching her goosebump-ridden arms towards the ceiling, wearing nothing but a lacey bra and a pair of unbuttoned jeans. messy hair that cascades down her back, brows furrowed, eyes simmering with irritation — before flitting over to meet your own.

shoko blinks. then sighs. ”you woke up?” she mutters, and you try not to shiver when the tremor of her voice deepens, morning-fatigue seeping into the syllables. “fuck. sorry, i —”

she stumbles a little, shifting her weight from one foot to another, and you take a step forward. on instinct, as if getting ready to cushion her fall. ready to be of service, in any way you can.

”don’t worry,” she fumbles with the fire alarm, clicking her tongue. nails scraping against plastic. “it’s fine, i just need to — there we go.” 

finally, the beeping stops. and your shoulders relax, immediately, the tight little ball inside your chest untangling. with a deep inhale, the fragrance of espresso and smoke fills your nostrils, and a sense of calm washes over you. rooting your feet to the floor. 

shoko settles down, too, seating herself on the wooden chair. a huff slipping from her lips. they’re smudged, a blurry red she still hasn’t found the energy to wipe away. 

bringing a hand up to card through her hair, lithe fingers in between her messy auburn locks, she exhales. a blend between fatigue and relief.

”god. i need a cig.”

a moment passes. she raises her head, and sees the sleepy little pout playing at your lips — her eyes softening. blooming with something fond. giving you a smile, tired, small. but reassuring. 

”i’m just kidding, love,” she chuckles. “relax.”

”don’t joke about that,” you frown, rubbing the sleep from your weary eyes. stifling a tiny yawn. ”.. took me so long to get you to quit.”

(sometimes you can still see the smoke leave her lungs when she exhales.)

shoko keeps smiling, but doesn’t say anything else. the pitter patter of rain against your balcony railing fills the silence of the kitchen, still brimming with a light layer of smoke, slowly dwindling. cold air drawing it out. clad only in one of suguru’s old t-shirts, you shiver, and shoko seems to notice.

“good morning,” she coaxes, opening her arms slightly — and you move forward, a moth to a flame. without thinking. “sorry for waking you.”

she wraps her arms around your waist, attaching her jaw to the curve of your shoulder, and you melt into the embrace. leaning close, to tuck yourself into her neck. she smells like lavender shampoo. “‘s fine,” you mumble, a yawn muffled into her collarbone. “what happened? are you okay?”

when her plump lips press against the sensitive skin of your neck, right next to one of the kiss marks she left there last night, you can’t help but shiver again. she must feel it, because you can hear the smile she’s trying to bite back in her voice when she answers.

“mm,” she hums, a gravelly noise that makes your throat clog up a little. “just burned something, it’s fine. don’t worry.”

tentatively, you take a step back. just to see her. gazing down at her, into her hazel eyes, the fading crescents beneath them. not as dark as they used to be, not as heavy with lost sleep.

shoko is gorgeous. always, every single day, but you think she’s particularly breathtaking like this. when it’s early, and she’s groggy and a little disheveled, eyes weary and lipstick smudged — bra strap close to slipping off her shoulder, black lace against pale skin, moles littering her forearms and chest like star clusters. oversized jeans that expose the curve of her waist, the fat of her hips, and you don’t notice how intently you’re staring until shoko’s raspy voice reaches your burning ears.

“eyes up here, baby.”

you do as you’re told, and she stifles a chuckle. eyes rich with amusement. you try not to blush.

“sorry.” you chew at the inside of your cheek. eyes trailing to the houseplants by the windowsill. “.. you’re just so pretty.”

shoko tilts her head, an exasperated little breath rolling off her tongue. almost a coo. she’s incapable of blushing; but if she wasn’t, you’re sure she'd blush. 

“thanks.” her touch is light, fingertips trailing down the expanse of your arm. “you are, too. red is a good colour on you.”

you blink. shoko’s eyes are crinkled at the edges, soft lines of crows’ feet, and you huff when you realize she’s talking about the marks on your neck. suddenly a little self-conscious, you bring a hand up to rub at the skin — as if hoping to wipe them away. you doubt it works. shoko just breathes out an airy chuckle, getting up from her seat.

she looks tired, still. stretching her limbs out, sleepily, blinking drowsily.

and it’s odd, you think. that she got up this early, that she didn’t cling to you and make you stay with her in bed like she usually does. you don’t know anyone who loves sleeping in more than shoko does. especially after a night out.

so it’s strange. very strange.

“hey, sho.”

“hm?”

you tilt your head. “why are you up this early, anyway?”

she blinks, and then glances at the clock on the wall. ticking idly, counting down. when she looks back at you, she’s got a single eyebrow raised. “it’s not really early.”

“for you it is,” you quip, something resembling a grin tugging at your lips. and she rolls her eyes, smiling, before linking her arm with yours. bringing you to the stove.

“i was, uh —“ a pause. she does a little cough under her breath, clearing her throat. “trying to make coffee.”

silently, you look at the mess in front of you; what used to be your squeaky-clean stovetop, now stained with a muddy, rusty residue. an unassuming coffee pot sits to the side, having seemingly boiled over, smoke still drifting up into the air.

shoko cringes, a little, before a wry smile makes its way to her lips. ”it was…” she clicks her tongue. sighing softly. ”an attempt.”

”… wait.” you turn to look at her, dubiously, and she avoids your gaze. ”that’s what you burned? coffee?” still no answer. a tiny smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help it if your voice comes out sounding a little teasing. ”how is that even possible?”

”look,” shoko exhales, heavy. ”i don’t know, okay? i think it was the coffee grounds, or something. i look away for one second, and it’s just —”

a little giggle slips from your lips, and shoko shoots you a glare. mostly harmless, but she untangles her arm from your own. ”sorry, it’s just —” you apologize, failing to hide your amusement. ”why didn’t you just use the espresso machine, honey?”

she bites her lip, and you think she might be just a little embarrassed. averting her gaze, briefly flitting towards the machine in question. ”… i didn’t know how to use it,” she mutters. ”i’ve seen you do it, obviously, but i never paid attention to the steps.”

a smile graces your lips. “it’s not that complicated once you know how it works,” you nudge her arm with your elbow. ”it just looks that way.”

she hums. a click of her tongue, as she adjusts her bra strap. ”well, anyway. i tried. so.”

”right.” you try to stifle a grin, to no avail. ”so… you burned your coffee.”

”and woke you up.” she grins, herself, just a tiny bit self-deprecating. but pretty, always, hair falling over her eyes when she tilts her head. ”a mess, aren’t i?”

”not at all.”

shoko looks at you, and your eyes meet hers. unflinchingly. tired irises falling into the gentle hue of your own, trickling down to the curve of your lips. there’s an honesty to your voice that she’s never quite been able to deal with. 

(love, she thinks. a kind of love she finds somewhat hard to stomach. a sea of acceptance that she fears she’ll eventually drown in.)

before she can properly fall into a morning spiral, you stretch your neck a bit, idly, and she gets a good look at the red marks littering your skin. the way your pulse beats at the base of your throat. tender, slight, a mantra she’s grown just a little bit addicted to. 

”why, though?” you hum, and shoko blinks. snapped out of her thoughts, and back into reality. back into you, the faux pout on your lips. playful, but a little confused. ”i thought i was the coffee brewer of this relationship…” 

and it’s true. you’ve been making shoko’s morning cups of coffee for a while, now, even before you moved in together. she likes it black, sometimes with a drop of cream, sometimes with a cube of sugar. never both. you think it’s very like her, to tiptoe that line between bitter and sweet — never entirely giving in to one or the other. there’s a balance to shoko, something stable. something for you to hold on to, a bitter tinge or syrupy taste that always leaves you yearning for more.

truthfully, your coffee brewing skills aren’t anything special. but it makes shoko happy, to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, being able to hug your back. being handed a cup of fresh coffee. sipping from it in silence, muttering out a groggy good morning that makes your heart flutter.

(to you, it’s precious. that lilt of her voice, that bittersweet tinge. the dearest thing in the world.)

plump bottom lip trapped between her teeth, shoko furrows her brows. ever so slightly. nails tapping at the edge of the kitchen counter, a series of satisfying clicks against the marble. “… well.” 

she clears her throat, but doesn’t say anything else. a moment passes. you try to find the answer in the curve of her lips, the crease of her brow, in the depths of her eyes — but you don’t succeed.

something discomforting settles in the bottom of your throat. almost uncertain, maybe a bit anxious. sheepish, as your tired mind spins in circles. parting your lips. hesitant.

“do you… not like the way i make it?” there’s a dejected tilt to your voice when it spills out, one that makes you feel a little silly. so you smile, or try to, eyes trailing towards the windows; you note that the rain has grown heavier. “i can change how —“

“what?” shoko cuts you off. “no. no, of course not — your coffee’s perfect. honestly.”

again, your eyes meet. and again, shoko seems to be struggling with finding the right words. or maybe she’s struggling to voice them.

“i just… haah.” she brings a hand up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. you just watch, silent, hungry to hear the thoughts she’s not letting you in on.

a beat. again, the sound of the rain against steel railings, the scent of honeydew and concrete. espresso-flavored smoke, almost entirely faded, leaving only cold air to nip at your thighs. 

and again, as always, inevitably, your eyes are fixed on shoko — a moth to her flame. helpless to the cinders that ghost at your skin whenever she looks at you. a certain contemplation swims inside her eyes, simmering beneath the surface, as she chews gently at the plush of her lips. before turning to face you.

you can only blink. but shoko finally speaks, clearing her throat in a way that strikes you as rather sheepish.

“well — you’re always the one doing all the work. aren’t you?” her voice trickles out into the air, low and saccharine, a blanket pulled over your shoulders. so soft you hold your breath and strain your ears, just to make sure you hear it. “i guess i figured… i don’t know.”

shoko pauses, again, and you can almost delude yourself into thinking there’s a cherry red tint to the tips of her ears. when she parts her lips, that usually carefree voice of hers sounds almost meek. almost, but not quite. more like unsure. embarrassed?

another moment passes, entirely silent. shoko swallows her pride.

“.. satoru always brags about suguru making him those fucked up sugary drinks he likes,“ she mumbles. turning around, to rest her back against the counter, looking out at the downpour. “says it makes him feel so loved. or whatnot. so i just —“ 

she waves her hand, haphazardly. 

“you know.“

a beat. then another. you can physically feel your lips part, a kind of surprise weaving itself into the contours of your face. 

and when you finally speak, your voice comes out a little garbled, scrambling for the right words. not sure if you should feel deeply amused, or just a tiny bit horrified. “wait. you’re saying you…” a moment passes. silent, slow, and all you can do is blink owlishly. in disbelief.

“… got inspired by suguru?”

shoko groans, deep and gravelly, almost comically agonized. covering her face with her pretty hands. “don’t say it,” she pleads, “you’re making it sound as dumb as it is.”

a little giggle slips from your lips. accidental, but she still shoots you a displeased look, huffing under her breath. crossing her arms just to tap at her forearm with her nimble fingers. frowning.

“don’t laugh at me.”

“sorry,” you search for her gaze, but she keeps looking ahead. so stubborn. “i don’t mean to, ‘s just — not very like you, y’know?”

shoko exhales. nearly a huff, but not quite. and you think she must be embarrassed, gnawing at her lip like that, fingers eagerly searching for something to fidget with. it makes you soften, impeccably, the blood inside your veins warming up beneath your skin. stirring you, coaxing you into soothing her. your very own heartbeat seems to be a little enamored with shoko ieiri.

”i appreciate the thought,” you smile. a tender tone, sincere. lingering with amusement. “really. but let’s not base our entire relationship around satoru and suguru of all people, alright?”

and again, she sighs. brittle, a little fatigued. brows scrunching together. ”look, i —”

a pause. she gnaws at her plump bottom lip, eyelashes fluttering like a battered heartbeat. her voice comes out sounding soft, all duvet pillows and fresh lavender, a lilt that anchors you to earth. sweet words. so honest it makes your breath hitch.

”i want to take care of you.”

and this time, you’re the flustered one. burning under her gaze, feeling a heat blossom on your skin. feeling the fervent pitter patter of your heartbeat, as her pretty eyes look into yours. a nice mocha brown. 

but even with the fresh embarrassment trickling through your veins, you find it in you to speak. desperate, maybe, to cross the distance between you — even when it borders on non-existent. desperate to feel your heartbeats synchronize, figuratively or literally. to stitch them together.

“i want to take care of you, too,” you echo, looking down at the floor. and then back at your girlfriend. hesitant, a tad shy. but sincere.

a sincerity so palpable it makes shoko feel a little jealous. 

(sometimes, she finds herself wanting to put a hand inside your chest. dig around your organs, run her fingertips down every single one, until she finds what she's looking for. that miraculous something that makes you stick around, that makes you so frighteningly easy to love. that makes her want to safeguard you so terribly.)

”then let’s take care of each other,” she breathes, a small smile slipping into the curve of her lips. reaching out to brush against your knuckle, weave your fingers together. delicate. 

she clears her throat. “… i guess.” 

and you can’t help but smile. somewhat cheeky, a little teasing. “ah,” your eyes crinkle, and you stifle a coo. “did that embarrass you?”

a sharp little scoff. shoko gives you a lazy grin, paired with a soft roll of her eyes. brushing her thumb across your knuckles, even still. “oh, shut up.”

the world seems to still, ever so slightly, as you look into each other’s eyes. like everything else is just background noise, from the pitter patter of the rain to the fading smell of coffee all around you. shoko looks at you like she’s trying to see inside your brain, see what makes you tick, see you for what you are.

and when she eventually leans in for a kiss, you’re pliant. expectant. her lips against yours, breathing you in, as soft as ever. like she’s afraid of getting too greedy. she tastes like nectar and cosmetics.

“give me some time,” she says, after pulling back. hands on your waist, squeezing softly. “i’ll make you another cup right now.”

”sure you don’t want me to do it?” you ask. “i don’t mind.”

another little scoff. offended. ”look, i’m not incompetent, okay? i’m just not used to it.” she untangles herself from you, warmth slipping away. you will yourself not to chase it. “just stand there and look pretty for me.”

and she smiles, when those words make you giggle, infected by your sleepy joy. something soft and silky blooms inside her ribcage, mirrored by the glimmer in your eyes when you intertwine your hands again. fingertips brushing against each other, delicate, a love that’s handled with care.

”.. i like making you coffee,” you whisper after a beat. smiling. under your breath, like you’re telling her a secret. ”it makes me happy.”

a moment passes. something in shoko’s bones still, for a second, enough for you to notice. and her eyes fill with a kind of hesitance. doubt, maybe. or fear.

when shoko opens up to you, it’s always like this. sleepy, rainy days, or tipsy afternoons. in no more than a whisper, a fragile breath, the ghost of a confession. when you can feel her heartbeat, one finger on her wrist, listening to the rhythm of her pulse. intimate. a little clumsy, but…

”i just don’t want you to spend too much of yourself on me.”

the words are spoken in passing, almost casually, a lighthearted kind of resignation. a hungry ghost. one that follows her, follows you. suguru and satoru, too. there’s a lump in her throat, you can tell, something that makes it a little harder to say what she means. an intimacy that frightens her in a way nothing else can; frightened to hold it in her palms, to keep it close without having it break apart.

(not just her — you all are. all four of you. that’s why you've always been together, you think, why you always will be. four hedgehogs huddling together in the cold of night, too desperate for warmth to stay away from each other's spines.)

carefully, almost cautiously, you bring her hand to your lips. as if you’re handling a flimsy sheet of glass. featherlight, a touch so tender you hope she knows what you’re about to say before the words leave your throat.

“you’re worth it,” is whispered against her skin, your lips against her knuckles. shoko softens, but you think the sigh that slips from her lips sounds just a little shaky. “always.”

and finally, you know you aren't deluding yourself. it’s there, visible, the cherry red of her ears; a red that matches the lipstick on your skin. a flush that never travels down to her face. but it’s enough.

she clears her throat. voice beginning to change shape, slowly but surely, morning fatigue peeled off with the ticking of the clock. there’s still a raspy residue, leftover smoke that’ll never quite leave her lungs, but it’s silkier now. trickling like honey from her parted lips.

and it’s terribly soft, her tongue twisting around the vowels, a low lilt that drips with tenderness. she wills herself to smile. tired, but fond. “just let me make you one cup, then.”

so you do.

you let her, after briefly pointing out the functions of the far too expensive espresso machine that satoru bought you when you first moved in, and she listens intently. those pretty eyes, the intelligence behind them, her lips pursed in focus. shoko’s a genius, you’ve always thought — so effortlessly good at memorization, at figuring out how things work. what ties everything together. 

you think it’s a little comical that she struggled so much with making coffee, of all things, but you choose to attribute it to her slight hangover.  

because she’s focused, when she begins to fiddle with the machine. attentive. as if she’s dissecting it. a satisfaction in the way she moves, the way everything clicks into place as she works. everything serves a purpose, every single part in the machinery, every tube or pump of caffeine. she compares it to the human body, a glint in her eyes, and you can’t disagree.

all you can do is watch her. silently, entirely mesmerized. sitting on the kitchen counter, bare thighs against the marble, swinging your legs. telling her about the dream you had, while she listens. always.

a fresh, thick aroma of espresso and rainwater begins to waft through the apartment. one you drink in, greedy, steam filling your lungs. as you admire how the tiny droplets bounce off the hyacinths blooming on your balcony.

and when she’s finished, producing one cup of espresso, tailored to your liking, you can’t still the beating of your heart. unsure if you should blame it on the caffeine yet to enter your veins, or the proud smile that lingers on your girlfriend’s lips. maybe the way her fingers curl around the handle, the way a soft here, baby, spills from her smudged lips. all of the above, probably.

she’s gorgeous. breathtaking. sometimes you want to give her everything, more than you could live without. your heart, your lungs, your eyes. anything she asks for.

but she would never. all she’ll ever need is for you to keep sticking around, keep telling her about your silly dreams, keep letting her feel the beat of your pulse at the base of your throat. a mantra she’s fallen a little bit in love with.

and when you put your lips against the ceramic, and a bittersweet scent fills your lungs, you think you can taste it. that care, a love soft enough to mend all the jagged edges of your heart.

shoko smiles. smoothing a stray eyelash from your skin, thumb against your cheekbone. “how is it?”

(you swear it’s the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.)

[rainrot4me]

Steam Roller | Chapter 5

Summary: You spill your guts to Jeff, pouring your emotions until EJ and Masky pay a visit letting Jeff know plans Slender has made. This changes things, for both you and him.

Characters: Jeffrey Woods x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Fingering, nipple sucking, vaginal, mentions of death, fighting, possessiveness

Words: 4.0k

This is a continuation, chapter one is here.

The first thing Jeffrey smelled when he stirred from sleep was coffee.

It wasn’t bad, but it was unfamiliar. And the raging headache tearing away at his head made the aroma that much better. He threw your covers off of him, slightly disappointed you weren’t there when he awoke. Begrudgingly, he shuffled to the kitchen and squinted at the bright sunlight peeking through the windows. Fuck this. But when he eventually saw you pouring the sweet smelling drink into a mug, his gaze softened ever so slightly at the domestic ways of it all.

Last night was idiotic. The past week had been idiotic. Come to think of it, Jeff couldn’t think of a time where he was in his right mind about something.

But as you turned and glanced at him, soft eyes grinning as you sipped from the steaming mug, he felt right about something for once. Even if it was going to get him in more trouble than it was worth.

Truth was, Slender didn’t like distractions. Especially things that would distract someone from doing what he needed them to. And you were a big distraction. Jeff wouldn’t say that he loved you. Fuck that, he didn’t believe in the word. What he did know is that you crept into his every thought and affected his every emotion over the course of mere days. If this is what you did to him after a week, he couldn’t imagine what would happen if you stuck around longer. He shuffled to your side, wrapping his arms around your hips and pulling you into his chest. His chin rested on your head, the warm smell of coffee cleansing his pounding head. “Mornin’.” He mumbled, rubbing a hand on your hip. “Morning.” You sighed back, laying your head on his bare chest.

Jeff’s biggest fear is that he would get you caught up in something stupid and end up with you killed. The other creeps he could handle, but the proxies, not to mention Slender? Could he protect you from them too?

“We need to talk.” Stomping on his train of thoughts, you pressed off of Jeff and started into his eyes. He noticed the stern look, uncomfortably focused. Shit. Jeff was too hungover for the talk. But as you guided him over to the couch and sat him on the opposite end from you, he knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

“First. I don’t know why you disappeared for days with no reason and I don’t really want an explanation,” You huffed, holding your mug close to your chest. “But I’m not some toy for you to just use whenever you feel ready to. I’m not your pet.” Jeff cringed, staring at the space on the couch between you so he wouldn’t have to look you in the eyes. “Second. I don’t trust you. Not at all. But I would much rather you visit me like a normal person than break into my room.”

Jeff stifled a laugh, glancing up to meet your stern face. He smiled, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. “Oh come on. Don’t act like you don’t love it.” You gritted your teeth, looking away before rolling your eyes. “Besides the point. I want to feel safe in my own home. And I’m afraid I can’t do that if I have a serial killer messing around in it.” The words were rough. Your stern tone nailing every command as Jeff listened closely but refused to look at you. He wanted you to be able to trust him, but who the hell was going to trust a killer? You had, apparently. At least you were trying to. It was so odd. Like every warning switch in your brain was flipped and told you that dangerous men were safe. You had no conscience about him, but that was why he liked you.

You embraced the dark. Not only in him, but in the way you lived too. In the woods, far apart from society. In the way you decorated your home, rustic and gloomy. Even the way you dressed screamed unnatural. You accepted the weird and uncanny, you accepted him. Not accepted, more like challenged. You didn’t let these things scare you, you let it surround you when others would cower. The first time you met, for example. You didn’t cry and run. You faced him head on, terror and all. It was far more admirable to Jeff than you realized. If Slender and the others couldn’t see that, he’d make them.

However, when you back an animal into a corner, they bite. “Jeff!” You huffed, catching his attention back. You were angry, brows knitted at the fact he hadn’t been listening the entire time. “Sorry. What?” He groaned, rubbing his head as the headache began to spread to his neck. You leaned back into the couch, circling your finger on the rim of the mug as you collected your words again. “I said I don’t forgive you for what you did that night.” Jeff was stuck, staring at your downtrodden face as you refused to meet his. Killing was nothing for Jeffrey, a contractual obligation he had to fill. His purpose. A way to let off steam and get a bit of enjoyment. He sometimes forgot the way it affected others afterwards. “It’s not like I had a choice…” He mumbled, glancing out the bright windows to the maze of trees. He wanted to give you the truth, but he knew that wasn’t going to be enough. It never was for humans. “And you expect me to just move on like it didn’t happen? There’s only so many times we can fuck before I eventually stir their spirits to curse me or something.” You gritted your teeth, browns knotted. Jeff growled back, rolling his eyes.

“I can fuck you however many times I want, fuck your dead friends.”

It struck a chord and he knew it. Your face dropped, staring at him like he had just cursed you. It felt weird to see your face upset. He usually found pain funny, laughing at the tears and screams he caused others. But when he caused tears to spill down your cheeks, it just made him uneasy and mad. And a little turned on. Sick fuck he was. You had the spunk and strength of a beast, stronger than most he knew. So when he scooted closer and wiped the tears from your cheeks, you felt weak. You felt like you were betraying your friends, dishonoring them. “How am I ever supposed to forgive you?” You mumbled, leaning into his hand.

Jeff watched your eyes, searching for some answer in each other's gazes that you’d never find. “Don’t. Just accept that you can’t change it.” He sighed, rubbing your flushed cheeks in his hands. “I’m not some boyfriend that needs your forgiveness. The stuff I gotta do isn’t worth dwelling on.” Jeff’s hands slid to your chest, slipping the mug out of your hands and placing it on the table adjacent to the couch. He pressed you back, laying your head on the armrest and moving to mouth kisses on your neck. You slid your arms around his neck, shutting your eyes as you sighed your approval of the little hips he gave your shoulder. “I can’t forgive you, Jeffrey… But- ahh. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try.” You gasped into the air, rubbing your hands on his back as he slid his cold hands up your shirt, massaging your tits.

There has to be something wrong with you.

But as Jeff pulled up your shirt to your shoulders and began to suck on your nipples, the reasons why slipped your mind. He had seeked you out when no one else wanted to. Granted, he was a serial killer, but that didn’t make him any less of a potential. You craved tension and struggle, and that’s exactly what Jeffrey was so willing to give you. A build up and a release. Where he messed with your head and pushed you to your limits, he was there again to calm those desperations and appeal to your every want. Call it stockholm syndrome or whatever the fuck people wanted to label it, but to you this was as real as it got. Two people who complimented each other in the just fucked up ways. You wrapped your fingers in his messy hair, pressing his face down harder against your nipple as he bit at the nub.

The crash against your front door made the both of you jump up, hands quick to tug your shirt down as you saw the two large figures enter through your swinging door. Masky and EJ. But compared to the last time you saw them, EJ was the one lighting Jeff up rather than Masky.

“My truck?! I’m gonna gut you.” He snarled, circling the couch and tugging Jeff up by his hair, holding his face close to his dark blue mask. You glanced between the three, Jeff already pumping his fists against EJ, but the larger man refused to budge. Masky watched from behind your couch, crossing his arms as he watched the two until he glanced at you. He scooted over and perched his elbows against the back of the couch, bringing his mask close to your face. “Nice house.” You nodded awkwardly, glancing nervously to Jeffrey as EJ shoved him to the floor. “How did you find it?” You mumbled, eyeing back to Masky. “Ben snitched. You don’t know him.” You glanced back to the fight. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to intervene but the thought of expressing EJ’s wrath onto you made you rethink. You turned back to Masky.

“I don’t want Jeff to leave.” You mumbled, fiddling your fingers nervously. It felt weird to express your thoughts to some stranger, but Masky seemed the one in charge of whatever this little group was, so it seemed fit. “Whoever Slender is, tell him Jeff’s done.” Masky laughed hoarsely, coughing in between the bits he could catch his breath. He thought it was hysterical, but you kept your face serious. When he lifted his head back, he realized this. “Sorry sweetheart. Not how it works.” He leaned up, glancing out the windows and searching for something in the trees that seemed to capture the attention of every creep that stepped in here. Like something was watching. “Slender doesn’t work like that, you see. Jeffrey’s indebted to him, saving his life and stuff. He works for him until Slender decides he doesn’t need him anymore. Even Jeff knows that won’t change.” You huffed, glancing back to the two as EJ slapped the back of Jeff’s head before plopping onto your couch.

It didn’t make sense, but you guessed it wasn’t meant to be to someone like you. You understood that none of the men who stood in your living room were completely human, but it didn’t scare you. If anything it intrigued you.

Jeff pushed himself off the floor with a grunt, holding his head as he plopped himself onto the spot next to you. EJ and Masky watched closely, glancing at each other through their masks. “You can take the truck, but I’m not goin’.” Jeff huffed, laying his head on your shoulder and collapsing his weight against you. Masky stepped around to the front of the couch and crouched on the coffee table in the center of the room. “That’s why I’m here. Slender wanted to make a deal.”

Jeff sat up, staring at Masky with so much intensity it seemed like he could fish out the bullshit if he looked hard enough. “And?” Jeff huffed, slinking his hand to grip your knee tightly. EJ sat up, watching the interaction closely, almost like he was studying.

“He’s willing to let you keep the girl. But only if you keep her at this house. She’s not allowed to live at the mansion.” Jeff sat there, studying through the words as his fingers flexed against your knee. You slid your hands up, cupping his hand in your own and staring at his hardened expression. “Why?” He huffed. Masky leaned back, looking out the window again. “Too much for the others. You really think Jack’s going to hold up well with a good smelling girl running around?” When you glanced at EJ, you suddenly noticed he wasn’t staring at Jeff at all. He was staring straight at you, the mask barely obscuring your visibility of his direction. Jeff wrapped his arm around your thighs, scooping you closer to him. You slinked closer to Jeff, the weight of him comforting you as you forced yourself to glance back at Masky. “And because he’s willing to let the girl be a good breather for you. But he needs you focused when you’re being given a mission, not worrying about when you can get your dick in her next.” He groaned. Jeff smirked his lip ever so slightly, side-eyeing you before letting out a long breath.

“Well shit. Slender’s gone soft, huh?” He chuckled, furrowing his brow as he glanced out the window as well. You followed the two men’s gaze, trying your hardest to see what was continually grabbing their attention. That was, until you saw it. He hid behind the trees so well. Black swirled tentacles traced along the dense tree line to mimic branches, his long stalky form blending in perfectly to dark wood towering over your house. You couldn’t look away, even as you saw his face and the lack of features, you could tear your eyes from him. It was like he was pulling you in, his form beckoning you.

A rough hand wrapped around your jaw and pulled you back to face your living room, snapping you out of your weird trance. You met Jeff’s face, his hand brushing the hair from your face as he furrowed his brows. “And because she’s not used to him yet.” Masky chuckled, leaning forward onto his knees. They knew he was out there. How long had he been there? Was he going to leave? You forced yourself to keep looking straight, but you could still feel his gaze in your peripheral. If that was the thing running the stupid mansion, you were perfectly fine not stepping inside there. EJ had turned away from you, crossing one leg over the other as he stared out the window and basically stared right at Slender.

Jeff and Masky continued to talk about the terms of Slender’s little deal, scraping over any loopholes or problems that might arise but seeming to come to an agreement. “You can tell the guy he’s got a deal. But stop the stupid headache bullshit.” Jeff groaned, kneading your thigh in his hand. Masky nodded, standing as EJ shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed his truck keys, cursing at Jeff before siding out the door. Masky nodded to you. You smiled back, unsure of him but worrying not as he slid the door closed. You heard the truck start in your driveway before peeling out and onto the dirt road.

You glanced back out the window, realizing the tall slim figure was gone as well, a wave of relief rushing you. Jeff leaned into you, cupping your cheek in his cold hand as he stared at you, until his soft glance turned darker. “You’re all mine now, babe.” He grinned, leaning over you to press your back down onto the couch, climbing on top of you. “Now to get back to those nice little tits.” He hissed, peeling your shirt off your body and tossing it to the floor. He took your right nipple into his mouth quickly, circling the nub with his tongue until you were whining and squirming. He popped off of it, pinching the opposite nipple as he gazed into your eyes. “My tits. All mine. Everything.” He sighed, breathing heavily. He stuck his tongue out, the gashes on each side of his mouth pulling wide to make his mouth look huge. He licked a streak up your cheek, kissing the skin tenderly down to your lips before enveloping them as well.

Jeff never really obsessed over anything minuscule. He got excited, blood pumping and adrenaline rising, but he never continuously went back to something that wasn’t vital. But you, you were his problem. He mentally labeled you as his. And now that Slender has given him the all clear, only God himself could stop the pale killer from never letting you go. His breath still stunk of alcohol from the night before as he pressed his tongue into your mouth. But you still had more to say, so you pressed your hands against his cheeks and pushed his head back. Jeff looked distraught, like a dog being held back from his food bowl, he strained against your hands trying to taste your lips again.

“So we’re doing this. Whatever… this is.” You croaked, rubbing your thumbs against his gashed cheeks. Jeff started into your eyes, confusion guiding them. “I’ve never been a big fan of labels,” He sighed, letting the weight of his head rest against your hands as he spoke. “But I know I’m willing to do whatever for… this.” He smiled, kissing your palm before pulling your wrists back. He dove back into your neck, pressing light kisses against the skin. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine.”

You laid back, letting Jeff lick and probe at your neck until he made his way down to your tits again, back arching as his rough tongue slid over your nipples. Mine, mine, mine. Jeff chanted it to you with every kiss he laid, gripping your skin so tight you could feel the bruises blossoming. You had never had anyone relish you the way Jeff did. But you weren’t afraid, because if a serial killer could find you beautiful and worth keeping, then you would give yourself to him. However he wanted.

Jeff had you flipped onto your stomach before you could react. His hands gripped at your shorts and tugged them down, hands gripping at the arm of the couch to keep you stable. “Jeff-“ You groaned as he straddled the back of your thighs and began to knead your ass in his hands. He reached father, spreading your lips apart and groaning at the wetness as he licked his own fingers. He rubbed at your entrance, wetting the area before sliding a digit in, then another, stretching you open slowly. You could barely move your hips against his fingers as he sunk them in and curled into your warmth. He was chuckling above you, sliding his fingers deeper the louder you whined. “Love how you just fall apart on my fingers, babe…” He groaned, unzipping his jeans and tugging out his throbbing cock, stroking it slowly.

You were pressing your hips back against his fingers, begging for more than just shallow pumps and stretched flesh. You needed to be full. You needed his cock. It struck you suddenly how whipped he had you. The days he was gone, it was hard for you to come on your own fingers without imagining his voice guiding you through it. It was embarrassing, but now that he was back, you had no fear if you’d finish or not.

“Please…” You whined, gripping the arm of the couch so he tight your knuckles turned white. He smiled, the little shit eating grin making you whine. “Please what, babe.” He sunk his fingers inside of your cunt all the way to the knuckle and held them there, unmoving. You ground your hips, breathing in deeply. “Jeffrey. I swear to God.” You growled, reaching back to grip his hair, pulling him down to meet the side of your face. “Fuck me already.” The force made his cock twitch, a large grin decorating his pale cheeks as he tugged his fingers out and lined the head of his cock up with your entrance. “My baby wants me sooo bad, doesn’t she?” He laughed, sliding his hands under your hips and tugging your ass up with a forceful grip. “Then that’s what you’re gonna get.”

He nudged the head of his cock in, the stretch making you moan loudly into the couch. But as soon as his head popped past your entrance, he slammed the rest of his cock into your cunt. The sudden fullness shot the air from your lungs, making your eyes roll back. “Basically made for me, huh?” Jeff started at a quick pace, his hips slapping into yours as every inch of his cock stuffed you full. He continuously mumbled to himself about how good you felt, how well you were taking him. But you could barely hear over your own arousal screaming in your ears. Every slam of his cock against your walls making moans and gasps fall from your lips. “All yours.” You gasped, arching back into the rough pace. Jeff’s hands gripped tighter on your hips, his knees digging into the couch as he fucked down into you quickly.

You were still tired from last night, but you didn’t understand how Jeff was still so horny with a hangover. It was like nothing could keep him off of you, no matter what ailed him. You didn’t have time to think about it as you felt your orgasm blossoming in your core, Jeff’s cock sinking deeply and riding you out. He was quick to follow, his quick pace deterring as he finally bottomed out and released deep into your cunt. As you caught your breath, Jeff slipped out of you and pulled you up into his lap, cradling you.

“I could come in you everyday, but I still don’t think it would be enough.” He laughed, stroking your hair lazily as he watched the woods outside. Jeff felt calm for once. He wasn’t checking the woods to make sure Slender wasn’t there, he was just looking to admire the beauty. He knew sooner or later he’d have to leave your arms, but at this moment he wanted to enjoy his new prize. His. All his.

-

Jeff was eventually called back to the mansion, the hangover headache becoming more intense, leading to him giving you a quick kiss before he left you on the couch.

You knew, deep down, that this was wrong. But as you lounged in his hoodie, curled up in his scent, you couldn’t convince yourself to act on it. People find each other for a reason, and you knew that Jeff had seeked you out because he wanted to. He had to kill people, whether for missions or for personal release, but he didn’t have to find you. He didn’t have to seek you out and relish in your sadness, accepting your every emotion and likewise with his. Weird finds weird, you guessed.

You couldn’t forgive him for what he had done to your friends, but it helped to know that he hadn’t done it on his own will. However fucked up it was, you wanted to forget it, start on a new page with the killer you now called a lover.

Hours later when Jeff returned, you were already in bed, wrapped in his scent. He pulled himself under the sheets next to you, cuddling into your back. He smelled sickly sweet, like dirt and grime. You realized it was the smell of dried blood mixed with his own scent. It was alarming, making you turn to face him, but he was already snoring into the pillow. When you realized it wasn’t his, you relaxed again. Through the nasty smell, it was still his scent surrounding you, comforting you. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing deeply as you drifted yourself.

You’d take Jeff, killer or not. Monster or not. He was a sick fuck but he was your sick fuck, unfortunately. He was there to protect you from the people who wanted to hurt you, but he was also there to comfort you in any way you needed. There really wasn’t more you could ask for.

Slender be damned. Logic be damned. You had left your morality when you let him fuck you on that stump. You let him break down your aggressive barriers and place himself inside, creating a home in your head.

As you slipped into sleep, you couldn’t help but smile.

Chapter 6 is here!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[syneilesis]

[fic] Coffee Break

Coffee Break

Love and Deepspace | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x Main-Character!Reader | G | 1.2k words ao3 link

You buy Xavier a new coffee machine.

A/N: I am so in love with this man. Day 2 of the closed beta test and here I am writing fic lmao. God, I love Shen Xinghui so much. This fic is inspired by his Shimmering Sunlight story. Some spoilers about the main storyline and character-exclusive stories, though nothing too significant. Though I frequently refer to his CN name in my other posts, in this fic I use his EN version -- Xavier.

The box is light in your hands, but the salesperson assured you that weight does not equate to quality. Price, too—because although the Hunters Association is generous with their pay, you don't want to raise flags by taking missions incessantly. Tara's nose for intrigue, of course, is well-known among your circles.

It would be all the worse if Xavier gets in on the gossip too. (You'd have to thank the stars for the man's indifference to workplace drama—and to most in general. Xavier may be airheaded at times but when he's focused on something he is monstrously focused on it. It's impressive, and—well—cute.)

The recommended beans are secured inside your messenger bag. You don't call Xavier this time to give him a heads up. He had, a few days ago, granted you the privilege to enter his home whenever you like, his hand tracing the book spines on the shelf, all the while saying it. He wasn't looking at you, but his tone remained light, playful even, that it prompted you to tease him by pointing out that if he merely wanted an efficient alarm clock, he could just buy one of those state-of-the-art ones sold in major stores. That's when Xavier whirled around to look at you, mirth in his eyes but with a secretive, scheming tilt on his lips.

“I'm coming in,” you announce, regardless, by the door, pushing it in with one hand, and Xavier's voice floats across the hall.

“You're really taking advantage of this, huh.”

“Well, a wise man once said that one must seize every opportunity given their way.”

Xavier emerges from a room in all his cardigan-and-sweatpantsed glory, hair mussed enough to indicate that he's just risen from his bed.

“Good morning!” you chirp.

He glances at the clock—two in the afternoon—and eyes the box in your hands. The caution—and curiosity—is obvious in the lilt of his question. “What's that?”

“For you.”

He takes the proffered item and inspects like it'll explode at any moment. You sigh and retrieve it again, and he follows you when you make your way to the kitchen.

“I already have a coffee machine,” he says, confused, as you begin to clean the gift.

“And it brews bitter coffee.” You spare a glance at him to find that he's watching you. You tap the lid of the machine. “This is a more recent and an undeniably better model.”

“I don't recall asking you to buy one for me.”

“That's because you didn't.” There's a pause where you deliberate telling him your next sentence and facing him directly as you say it. You go for it, in the end. “It's a gift. This is a gift from me to you.”

It doesn't register to him at first—it's as if he's waiting for an explanation that requires the mention of Captain Jenna's orders. But after a blink and a shuffle, it clicks, his eyes widening and he's fully awake all of a sudden.

And when he responds, it seems urgent: “What's the occasion?”

You shake your head. “Nothing—or rather, it's the occasion for drinking good coffee.” The coffee beans make their appearance. “Go sit on the sofa or something while I work this thing out.”

Xavier chuckles. “What—now you're ordering me in my own home?”

“And making you good coffee!”

“You're a guest—even I know that it's rude to have the guest make food or drinks for the owner of the house.”

“It's fine! And besides, I'd like to test this out as soon as possible. Refund and exchange policy only lasts for seven days from the date of purchase. I'd want to know if this works just fine.”

Xavier attempts to protest a little more, but you hold firm. Once he trudges back to the living room, you concentrate on the coffee. The salesperson seemed trustworthy enough when pitching the product, and you really can't forget the time Xavier served you a cup of bitter coffee. Not even three sugar cubes could salvage that unholy concoction.

When it's done, the heavenly aroma wafting along your nose, you test a sip from your own mug. It's a success. Placing the mugs on a tray, you head to where Xavier is.

He's reading a book. Though 'reading' seems to be a stretch because his head bobs twice, his eyelids drooping, the edge of a nap threatening his posture.

“Xavier,” you call him, and his head snaps back to attention. You bite your lip to stave off a laugh. Sitting next to him on the sofa, you put the tray on the table and hand him his own cup. “Try this one.”

A sniff and a tentative sip. And then he hums in approval, now drinking it normally. You smile around the rim of your mug, your eyes falling on his book.

“This is good,” he comments, wearing a smile of his own when he turns to you. “Did you use another kind of coffee beans?”

“Yep. The salesman recommended me another one, and it was the right decision. By the way, why are you reading an instruction manual on building a claw machine?”

“It's nothing,” he says, swiping the item away. There's another book on the table—a collection of short stories—and he snatches that up instead. You recognize the title.

“Oh! I've read that before.”

“Is it good? I haven't read it yet.”

“Yes. I particularly loved the titular story. The suspense buildup was done skillfully and the payoff was perfect.”

“I see, then I look forward to starting it.”

Surprisingly, Xavier begins reading it then and there, occasionally sipping his coffee and turning the page. You, beside him, are minding your own cup, thoughts drifting here and there. Your next mission. New strategies in battle. Your next appointment with Dr. Zayne.

It's when a weight has plopped down your shoulder that you jolt out of your musings: Xavier falling asleep on your shoulder, mug empty, the coffee residues pooling at the bottom, book opened in the chapter of your favorite story.

“Xavier?” you murmur, careful not to startle him if he's truly asleep.

He doesn't stir—only burrows further into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, the puffs of his breath close and warm against your skin.

It would've been cruel to push him away, not when he looks comfortable. And besides, you're afforded an opportunity to study him—so you let him as he is.

From your angle, staring down at his sleeping face, you note of his eyelashes, long and thick and seemingly soft, slightly curved upwards, hovering over his smooth cheeks. They frame the blueness of his eyes very well. They make him even prettier under daylight. You're reminded of the time you and he strolled under the blooming peach blossoms, the pink backdrop highlighting the radiance of his presence, statuesque. He as sublime art itself, rivaling that of Rafayel's paintings—or better yet, surpassing them. And when he smiles—

Unbidden, heat crawls across your cheeks and settles there. Oh no. Oh, no no no.

Oh dear, this won't do.

You swallow, and turn away. Against your neck, Xavier sleeps on, unaware of your unfurling realizations. By the window, a familiar bird perches, twittering under the afternoon sun, a small but melodious background song.