#I... did this in a day. Without any sleep. crazy...

[firingstars]

siren’s song [one-shot]

avengers!bucky x avengers!reader

summary: bucky hears music through the vents of his room every single night, but the team refuses to tell him for his own protection. after all, they know the music is coming from you- a secret member of the team, who happens to be able to control minds.

warnings: 18+, mdni, no use of y/n, language, alternating pov’s, the avengers don’t like you/are scared of you, bucky is your biggest and loudest defender, steve is a meanie but he’s bucky’s biggest and loudest defender,, reader is a lil insecure and depressed but eh she’s a tortured™️ artist so what did we expect, reader knows sign language and is expressed in bold text throughout the fic

word count: 10.9k

a/n: apologies in advance for any inaccurate to semi-accurate music descriptions T_T i am a washed singer/musician that hasn’t done music since i switched over to the healthcare industry </3

masterlist

Everyone treats him as if he is something breakable. Fragile. That one wrong move, one wrong word– one wrong breath is enough to shatter him. 

In all honesty, Bucky can’t blame them completely. It took him a long time to get to where he is right now, and he still has to lie to himself to say that he’s doing okay. He still hopes that the lie will somehow manifest itself into truth if he tries hard enough.

Either way, it’s pissing him off.

The team acts as if they can’t hear the music that comes through the vents during random points of the day. Sometimes, it’s piano. Bucky can’t tell the difference between a violin or a viola, but he hears one of the two as well. There’s a low thrum of a cello every once in a while. He hears an acoustic guitar in the early mornings when the sun is barely breaking through the horizons.

Sometimes the melodies strike through his skin and grip his bones, never letting him go. Other times he’s soothed to sleep as if a gentle hand is caressing his head, lulling him to bed with each pluck of the string. He can’t deny that he’s enraptured by wherever this music is coming from.

At first, he thought Tony had F.R.I.D.A.Y playing music through the halls. He asked Tony about it– wondered why the music was played at such odd times without any rhyme or reason. Tony denied having any mood music and joked about him going crazy in the head. Bucky walked out of the lab without giving him another response. 

Then, Bucky realized it was strongest in his own room, and got softer as he walked towards the common areas. He realized that the music was connected directly towards his vent. His next realization was that there was a person that had to be playing each one of those instruments. 

Bucky dragged Steve into his room to show him the music next time it happened, demanding to know what was going on– to know where the music was filtering through from.

“What music, Buck?” Steve asked him, a polite look on his face. Bucky never wanted to punch him more– more than that day on those fucking hellicarriers when Steve was just a mission to him.

“Are you serious?” Bucky replied, eyebrows shooting towards the ceiling. “You don’t– you don’t hear that? The fucking– That’s Liebestraum No.3.”

Steve stared at Bucky, blinking at him like they didn’t speak the same language. Bucky let out a deep breath, frustration coursing through his veins as he did his best to not shout at the man that he considered his oldest, bestest friend.

“You don’t know who Franz Liszt is?” Bucky asked, trying to keep his voice even and calm. He was trying to practice the art of patience, but he was failing horribly with every passing second.

“How do you know who Franz Liszt is?” Steve retorted, almost looking worried.

“I had to do musical therapy as one of my– never mind. You seriously can’t hear the piano?” Bucky quickly said. 

“Buck… Have you been sleeping well? Should we move your room somewhere else? Stark did mention that you asked him about music the other day, too.”

Bucky hated that tone of voice. Condescending. Borderline patronizing. As if Steve was talking to a child. Like he was fragile.

“Steve, no!” Bucky exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “You know what– fuck. Never mind. Forget I mentioned anything.”

“Bucky,” Steve sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. They lock eyes, Bucky frowning at him.

“What, Steve?” he grunted.

“Trust me– you’re better off not knowing.”

The music stopped coming through the vents for some time after Steve lied blatantly to Bucky’s face– Bucky knew they were all lying to him. 

It was the same way they lied to him about the extra set of plates and cups that he noticed in the cupboards of the kitchen that no one claimed– but showed obvious wear of use. When Bucky asked who used those, they all just shrugged at him and changed the topic.

Bucky noticed mangoes in the fridge once. No one on the team ate mangoes, but there was always a fresh stock of mangoes that got brought in with each produce delivery. He noticed that the supply in the fridge dwindled down every few days until there was nothing left. He saw the peels in the trash. Nobody on the team smelled of mangoes.

When it was Wanda’s turn to cook, she would put a serving of food to the side before calling for everyone else to eat. No one would touch it. Bucky noticed that it would be eaten and gone the next day. He asked Sam one time who ate it, and got brushed off like he was insane for asking the question.

They were doing the same shit they were doing when they first brought him onto the team and he hated it. 

Bucky knew that they were doing it to protect him. That this was supposed to be for him, and they only meant well, but fuck– he was getting tired of it. He would’ve thought that they trusted him by now. If anything, they were doing more damage to him than good by handling him with gloves. He didn’t even know what they were protecting him from. Someone else? Another person? He couldn’t voice this to any of them, not when he was already struggling to express himself. 

Soon enough, the music returned through the vents again. Softer this time. As if whoever was playing was afraid to take up space.

Bucky laid in bed, eyes falling shut as he let out a breath. The notes blanketed over him like a warm hug, wrapping around him and soothing his aches and pains. 

He was grateful that the lullabies were back. 

Bucky could return to his dreamless sleeps.

“Nice work today,” Fury complimented as you washed your hands. 

You watched as the sink turned from crimson to pink to clear. You used the brush from the sterile packet to scrub under your nails, removing any traces of dirt, blood, and other bodily fluids that you could have picked up from your interrogation. You shake your hands off in the sink, glancing through the mirror to look behind you. Fury's standing there, with a towel in hand for you.

“Thanks,” you muttered quietly in return, shutting the faucet off before turning around to take the cloth. He pulls it away from you for a second, and your eyes go to his face.

“That would have gone a lot faster if you had just used your ability on him first,” he told you, then lowered the towel into your wet hands. “Wouldn’t have to resort to all the mess.”

“It's a mess either way, Nick,” you replied with a sigh, drying your hands off. You throw the towel into the hamper of the locker room when you’re done.

“Have you made any progress with the team?” he asked, hands clasping behind his back as you followed him out into the hall.

“You’re funny,” you said, scoffing. 

“I would like to deploy you on missions with them, you know,” he clicked his tongue on you.

“And yet, when you have me do interrogations, you have me in a soundproof room and have all other agents clear the floor,” you pointed out, shaking your head. “You also have me several feet underground. Don’t even get me started on the fact that my comms channels are cleared on my field missions.”

“It’s a safety precaution, agent.”

“You’re scared, Nick. That’s okay. They are, too,” you said, your voice soft. “I don’t blame you or them. I wouldn't trust me either."

Fury stopped walking, leaving you a few more steps ahead of him. You let out a deep sigh as you stop in your place, turning around to look at him. You’re so tired. You want nothing more than to return back to the main compound. You want to shower off the interrogation, cry, and maybe listen to Erik Satie to pretend like you’re not a weapon.

“You don’t make it easy for us to not be scared of you,” Fury said, looking you in the eyes. 

“I’m just thankful that you talk to me,” you said, giving him a small smile. 

Fury lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “You said that you have control over it. You have given me no reason to not trust that you won’t mess with my head the same way that you do with our enemies. Does it scare the hell out of me when I see what you can do? Sure it does. And I thank my lucky stars that I recruited you for our side. Trust is a two way street, agent. You need to start building your side of the bridge, too.”

He started walking once more, leaving you in the hall by yourself. You watched as his figure turned the hall, listened to his footsteps retreat and disappear into the air before you decided to do the same.

You took the same route that you always do– the same back hallway and stairs that you knew the other members of the team didn’t take. 

It makes you laugh when you address them like that in your head. The team. As if you’re part of them. You were introduced to them a long time ago. Said maybe one, two– three full sentences to them before you saw the full distrust and distress on the faces of the original six members.

You really looked up to them. You heard stories of them during your time in captivity as a weapon. You daydreamed of them saving you from your lab, bringing you in, making you one of them. You thought about doing good for the world and rectifying the wrongs that you were forced to do under the hands of the captors that held you by the throat. 

It wasn’t them that saved you. There was no fanfare. There was nothing special about the way you were saved.

Your lab was hijacked by a smaller, less elite group of agents. Fury was the one that came to you. Read your file, saw that you were enhanced, and asked if you would like to be part of something better.

That ‘something better’ stared at you with disgust. 

It shattered your world.

You kept to yourself after that. They didn’t mistreat you by any means. Tony gave you your own floor in the compound once you all moved from the tower, and they left you alone. They ordered you mangoes and whatever else you asked for as long as you put the order in with F.R.I.D.A.Y..  

You couldn’t blame them.

This was a team of people that held secrets. People that had been pulled apart from years of pain, mistrust, and horrors that you hadn’t been around to experience yourself. It was only natural that they wouldn’t trust you once they found out what you could do. 

So, you worked alone. Your skillset was better for interrogations, and for solo missions. You were off field most of the time, but Fury still sent you out every once in a while. If there were some more time sensitive matters that needed to be fulfilled that were overlapping with the main team’s missions that couldn’t be handled by regular agents, he would deploy you.

If nothing else, Fury trusted you to do the job. 

You shut the water to the shower off, running a hand down your face as you shook the thoughts away. Fury’s words got to you today. You normally didn’t think about this anymore. It had been too long. New members of the Avengers had joined. Nothing has changed. Well– Wanda gives you food when she cooks.

You once asked her why.

She told you- “Even monsters need to eat.”

It was the only time you spoke to her. 

You pad through the open concept of your floor. You press a key of your piano, listening to the note bounce off the walls as you continue to walk. Your guitar is resting on the carpet beneath your unmade bed. Your cello and violin are neatly put to the side against the wall on their stands– and you vaguely think about the fact you need to clean your brass instruments soon. Your drum set remains neglected– you once received a noise complaint through F.R.I.D.A.Y and haven’t found the courage to pick up the sticks since. 

You go towards the mini fridge, pulling it open, and pause.

“Shit,” you muttered, pulling in a lip between your teeth. It was empty.

It slipped your mind to have F.R.I.D.A.Y. bring a new delivery of snacks directly to your floor. You know you don’t have anything in the cupboards either. You’re a few days off from the end of the month. You check the time.

It’s barely one in the morning.

With the location of the compound, you won’t get any luck by going into the city to get food and come back. You have another interrogation scheduled first thing in the morning. You have training sessions with a few agents that aren’t aware of your abilities all afternoon, and then another interrogation in the evening if the Avengers complete their early morning mission and bring back their target as per scheduled. If you leave the compound right now, you won’t get enough time to sleep and be okay enough for the amount of shit you’ll have to deal with tomorrow. 

Plus, your hands are itching to touch some strings tonight or you might go crazy.

You could forgo the meal. You really could.

The thought is immediately thrown out the window by a sharp pain in your stomach followed by a deep grumbling that you’re sure could wake up everyone in the compound.

You groan to yourself, reaching for a hoodie. You’ll have to head towards the common floors. 

As you board the elevator, you really hope all of the team members are sleeping. You’re not in the mood to run into any of them today. Usually, you only come up here when you know that they’re on a mission or away from the compound celebrating or just out having a good time together– without you. They should be sleeping. 

And yet– there he was. 

The main person that you were warned to steer clear of.

Stormy eyes landed on you– you, who stood there with damp hair, a zip up hoodie and a tank top with cotton shorts and slippers. Shit.

You watched as the man bristled. He held a half eaten plum in his vibranium hand, all muscles tensed under the black shirt that he wore. The dog tags around his neck glistened under the kitchen lights as his body turned, his back straightening as he moved to square his shoulders to size you up. He was taller than you thought, but you had only seen him from afar. He had also cut his hair short– it was nice. His beard was also reduced to stubble now. You wondered if he did it himself or had someone else do it for him.

You swallowed, and took a few steps. 

This was your place of work, too. You lived here, too. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, his voice almost in a low growl. 

You didn’t dare answer him. You were almost afraid to. Not that you would use your power on him by accident– but that Steve or someone else would throw you out of the one place that you could call home, even if this place made you feel like you were walking on glass.

You opened the fridge like you did a hundred times before, eyes scanning the shelves until your eyes landed on the fruit. There were two left. 

You could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your head. One wrong move, and you were certain that he would act on command. This was his home, too. For all he knew, you were a stranger. And from what you knew– he knew nothing of you.

You were slow in your movements as you went for the cutting board and the drawer, grabbing a dull knife to cut open the mangoes. You saw him flinch out of the corner of your eye when you brandished the knife, and slowed your movements down even more. You really weren’t trying to die tonight. 

You just wanted some fucking mangoes. 

Once you were finished, you reached into the cupboards to grab your bowl and placed your fruit inside, dropping your used utensils into the sink. You turned around, locking eyes with the soldier. His breath hitched as you did, and you stared at him for a few moments. 

“I asked you a question,” he whispered. 

He sounded scared.

You held your breath for a few moments before releasing it. Then, you gave him a sad smile. You shook your head at him. No. He was better off not knowing. 

You tried to ignore the look on Bucky’s face before you turned away. 

You were warned. Steve warned you twice.

Before Bucky was brought to the compound, Steve visited your floor. Told you to never show yourself before Bucky. Said that he didn’t need you to mess with his head– that Bucky had already gone through hell enough and didn’t need it to happen again.

He came again, a couple weeks back. He told you that your music was loud. And it broke your heart. He told you to quiet down– that Bucky was asking questions. You felt as if your voice had been ripped from you all over again. You felt like you had been back in that lab.

That night, you played Prelude in E minor until your fingers cramped, and your tear ducts dried up.

Bucky had gone through several wars. His body had been modified without his consent over and over again. He was frozen, defrosted, then frozen again countless times. Lies had been shoved down his throat that he was forced to digest. He watched as his body and mind was broken and beaten, and he used to hold no regard for the state that he found himself in because he was trained not to care. 

Bucky cared now. He cared a lot. 

And he was losing his fucking mind. 

“Where do the targets go after we bring them back?” Bucky asked, removing his vest. He was dropping it off at Tony’s lab for inspection— something about Stark wanting to make some upgrades to everyone’s uniforms. 

“They go to interrogation,” Steve responded, putting his shield down on an empty table. 

“Who interrogates them?” Bucky pressed. 

“Fury, I guess,” Sam shrugged, but didn’t meet Bucky’s eyes. He frowned.

“Since when the hell does Fury get his own hands dirty when he has an entire army of agents at his disposal?” he demanded.

“Exactly. Fury just delegates the task to someone, Buck,” Sam sighed, taking redwing off his back to inspect the damn thing. “What’s it matter to you anyway? We just handle the mission— do you want to do extra work or something?”

No. It was simply driving him crazy to be left in the dark.

Bucky didn’t respond, not when he knew that all answers would just lead him back into a circle. He left the lab, aware of how his teammates' shoulders sagged in relief at his departure. It was subtle, but he noticed. He always did. 

All of them were hiding something from him. None of them would say a single word. They were great at skirting the issue, deflecting, or simply just changing the topic. 

There was one person he hadn’t tried though. One more person that he was certain wouldn’t give him any bullshit, but would definitely never let him live it down. He knew that she would definitely tell the others if word got out, too.

He sucked in a breath and changed courses for the armory. She always spent time down there after a mission to look over her guns, make sure nothing was damaged or jammed. Bucky stood at the threshold of the door for a long time, staring at her back. He didn’t know what to say, or how to say it.

Thankfully, she broke the uncomfortable silence first.

“I deleted the footage from this morning,” Natasha said, putting the safety back on her gun. 

“The footage?” Bucky echoed.

“Of you seeing our siren come out of her little cove to get her mangoes,” she clarified.

His eyes narrowed. Siren? Cove? 

“Explain.”

Natasha let out a breath. She put away the last of her gadgets and weapons in the case, locking them safely away before turning around. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Are you going to lie to my face like everyone else in this damn building?” he shot back.

“It’s for your own good, Barnes,” she sighed.

“Isn’t up to me to decide that?”

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours before she finally shook her head, relenting. She gestured towards the bench, moving to take a seat. Bucky sat down as well. Natasha said a name he’d never heard before– your name.

“We all collectively decided that we would keep her away from you,” she said, looking down at her hands. “Her abilities… let’s just say she wouldn’t need any fancy H.Y.D.R.A. machines to put your brain through a blender, Barnes.”

His spine straightened as his pulse quickened. He let out a slow breath, eyebrows furrowing.

“She’s enhanced– you called her a siren,” he said, the pieces coming together in his head.

“Whatever words come from her mouth– you can’t help but listen,” Natasha nodded slowly. “If she tells you to run, you run until your body gives out. If she tells you to scream, you’ll scream until your vocal chords are fried. If she tells your brain to explode in your head… well. She’ll be the last thing you ever see again.”

Bucky’s heart was pounding in his chest. 

“Does she– she has control over it, right?” he managed to force out. 

“Fury says that she does,” Natasha breathed out slowly. “Do I trust it? No. None of us do. She’s… part of the team, which is why she has clearance to the common areas. Fury wants her to be able to be deployed on missions with us, but none of us are comfortable with the idea of her using the ability with us on the field. She does solo work and interrogations, but otherwise I’m not really sure what she does here. I know Stark gave her an entire floor to herself. I think she blasts really fucking loud music. I think your vents are connected.”

Loud wasn’t the right word for it. Calming was a better word. 

Even when the music you played was sad or melancholic, he felt peace that he hadn’t been able to know in so long. Even if you were doing a simple scale to warm up your cold fingertips, you were able to pull him out of the depths of his own mind. You brought him ease that he had forgotten he knew how to feel.

“Where’s her floor?” 

You didn’t hear the elevator doors open, not with your headphones secured over your head. You had a day off today, and you decided to take yourself down to the city to pick out your first electric guitar. You spent a lot of time with the clerk at the shop, going back and forth between different brands of guitar, amps, and other things. 

You even learned how to be able to connect the electric guitar to headphones so you wouldn’t get another noise complaint from your resident fossil, Captain America. 

You sat on the floor, back against your bed, guitar on your lap with your laptop in front of you. You had your notebook beside it, ready to jot down anything that you felt was worthy of remembering for a later time.

Your fingers danced away at the strings, a smile fitting along your face as you closed your eyes. You were chasing the ghost of your past– the sound of your father’s amp crackling to life in the garage on a Saturday morning to wake you up. You, racing down the steps of the stairs as each note reverberated through your skeleton, screaming for you as you got closer and closer, distorting your reality as you–

You felt a weight in the room, breaking your immersion. You ripped the headphones off your skull, turning quickly, one hand reaching under your bed to where you knew you had a weapon.

Bucky’s hands went up in immediate surrender.

“I just want to talk,” he said, swallowing thickly.

Your breaths were still erratic, your eyebrows furrowed. Talk? What the hell would this man want to talk to you about? 

He was truthful though. Nothing about his body language screamed that he was on guard. His eyes were on you– more on the fact that your hand was still under your bed. You forced your breathing to even out and slowly dragged your hand back to where he could see it, and watched as his hands lowered back to his sides as well.

You watched as his eyes went from you to your room. His eyes rested on your bed– the sheets still not tucked in properly because you never cared to fix them after waking up. The carpet under your bed so your feet didn’t have to touch the cold tile of the floor first thing in the morning.

Across from your bed were two couches facing each other with throw blankets strewn about, with a coffee table in the middle, and a TV mounted on the wall. On the table were music sheets that you had forgotten to organize and put away. 

Right beside your 'living room' was your music area. You had several different instruments here, along with a full set up of production material for you to even record if you wanted to– because you did, sometimes. Only if you were in the mood for it. Not that you released anything. You were just bored by yourself, and you had the ability to do it.

And Bucky was standing in the middle of your makeshift dining-room-slash-kitchen. It was just a round table with a small fridge, half counter with a partial induction stove, and half sink area. You had a microwave to use, and some cupboards that you filled with snacks, plates, and utensils.

Suddenly, you felt self conscious over the fact of how lived in everything looked. You never had your area so closely examined the way he was looking at everything. Then again, you weren’t expecting any guests.

“Do you talk?” he suddenly asked.

You blinked. Your lips parted– and closed. You nodded in response after a few moments. Bucky’s eyes narrowed at you.

“Will you talk to me?” he asked, changing his question.

You shook your head immediately. Bucky let out a sigh, placing his hands on his hips. You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out what else to say to you.

“Is it because of your ability?”

You didn’t hide the shock on your face. You don’t know who’s more stupid– the person who told him, or him himself. Why would he come here if he knew what you are? What you could do to him?

Either way, you nodded to him.

“This is gonna get really annoying very fast– Can you do sign language?” he asked, surprising you again. He must've read the surprise on your face and quickly added, “I can read sign language.”

“How do you know sign language?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“I'm 110 years old. A spy. Assassin. I think I need to know a lot of things,” he dismissed. “Are you the one that plays that music every night?”

“I am,” you replied. 

“You always play like you have something to say.”

“I believe music transcends all forms of language. We don’t need to be from the same country to be able to understand each other,” you quickly signed at him.

Bucky stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. Almost as if he’s trying to process your words. You frowned, letting out a deep sigh.

“Are you here to tell me that it’s too loud? I’ll stop if it is. I’m sorry.”

“What? No! I’m just asking,” he spoke so fast it surprised you. The next words that came out were so soft that it almost didn’t reach your ears. “I– It helps me sleep. Don’t stop. I find comfort in your songs.”

Bucky wasn’t looking at you anymore. His eyes were trained on the floor, staring at the plush of your carpet. Your lips were parted, but your heart was beating fast. You almost felt like crying. You wanted to cry. 

A shuddering breath fell from his lips, disrupting the air in the room.

“I’ll sit here quietly. Can you play something?” he whispered, lifting his eyes to look at you again. “Anything. I don’t care what.”

Slowly, you rose from your place on the ground, pushing the guitar off your lap. You pulled a chair from the dining table for Bucky to sit at as you went for your piano, opening the cover. You could hear him take a seat, feel his eyes on you as you straighten your back. Your fingers ghosted over the ivory keys for just a moment as you contemplated what piece to play for him, your mind shuffling through everything you learned as a child– none of them fit this moment.

You played Bucky original pieces from that point forward. Whatever came to mind, you played for him.

You lost count of the amount of times that Bucky came down to your floor. Sometimes he would bring you your mangoes, along with some of his plums. Sometimes there would be new fruits for you to try before you would go and start your performance for him.

“Have you ever tried calamansi?” he asked one day as he walked through the door. You had barely had a chance to look up from your music score. You were sitting on the floor, pen in hand, crouched over the coffee table. 

"A what?" you asked, eyes narrowing at him.

“Calamansi,” he repeated, putting down the orangey-yellow drink down in front of you on the coffee table, but not before putting a coaster under the glass. “It’s a fruit from the Philippines- we had a mission there, and I just got back. This is good. Drink it.”

You looked up at him as he took a seat on your couch. He crossed an ankle over his knee, a hand draping over the back of the cushion as he took a sip of his own calamansi drink, eyes still on you. Expectant. Waiting. 

You reached for the drink yourself, a bit weary.

He must’ve sensed your hesitation, or at least seen it. 

Bucky took the glass in your hand, swapping it with the one that he had already drank from. He drank that one, as well. You let out a small breath, giving him a smile. He returned it– he had no judgement on his face.

His smile only widened as surprise took your features with the first sip of the juice.

“See?” he said, pointing at the glass. “It’s good, right?

You could only nod in agreement before you both continued to finish off your drinks.

Bucky would often come at random points of the day. It was never at any set time. There had been times where he was already in your room, waiting for you to come back from an interrogation or a mission. Other times when you had been off from the day, and you had run into him in your backway hall, already heading down to your door. He would give you a nod at these times, and walk with you the rest of the way.

You had even grown used to waking up and finding him sitting at the dining table, scrolling through his phone or looking through files while waiting for you to wake up– sometimes you didn’t even play for him on these mornings. 

“Did you even sleep last night?” you asked him, exiting the bathroom after washing up.

“Late, but I slept well after listening to you play. It wasn’t classical last night. Guitar, right?” 

“I heard it on the radio the other day,” you sign with a shrug. 

“I liked it. Can you add it to the playlist?” he asked, handing you his phone.

Another private, personal moment shared between you two. You don’t remember who started it. You two had several playlists shared.

You taught him how to make playlists. He sent you a playlist of songs that he liked, and you listened to each song religiously. You made him a playlist of music that you listened to and would continue to add songs that you played for him. There was a third playlist that you both would add songs to whenever you both felt like it. 

“Any plans today?” you asked after handing his phone back to him.

“I’m hiding here, if that’s okay with you. Steve wants to run to the city and back. I don’t want to. He managed to get Sam to agree, but I think that’s fucking crazy,” he muttered.

You don’t hide the smile on your face as you nod at him, going through your cupboards to pull out instant oatmeal for the two of you to eat. He gratefully accepts, and you two start your morning off slow. He talks at you, and he will patiently wait for you to put down your spoon so you can sign at him. 

You notice the way he pays attention to both your face and your hands to make sure he captures the entirety of the emotion behind the words you’re trying to convey to him.

You notice that he does the same exact thing when you play your music.

You could feel his eyes on your face when you’re playing, and you know it’s not just his ears that are listening to you. You can feel his heart opening with each note that you hit with your fingers, with each string that is strung. You can see the weight of the world being lifted off his shoulders in a way that you never thought was possible. 

At some point, he abandoned the chair at the dining table and would sit beside you at the piano bench, his body keeping you warm. You didn’t mind it. In fact– you were the one that closed the distance, no longer satisfied with only your knees brushing against each other’s. Your thighs were fully pressed together now, and he could feel your muscles move as you pressed the pedal of the piano when you needed to.

“Your fingers don’t get tired after playing for so long?” Bucky asked you one night, his voice soft, afraid he would talk over the notes.

You smiled, glancing over to him. You met his eyes, shaking your head.

“You don’t even need to look at the keys to play either?” he asked, just as astounded. He sounded a bit breathless, in awe of you. 

You let out a small laugh. This time, you shook your head in disbelief. You thought he was cute, but you couldn’t say that even if you wanted to tell him. 

The piano’s final note faded on your fingertips, light and airy– you don’t remember the last time you played something in a more sorrow sounding tone. Though, Bucky does seem to enjoy your minor chorded music. He once told you that it evoked something deeper inside of him.

“What was that one called?” he asked you as you pulled on the piano cover.

“Another random piece from my mind,” you signed to him. 

“Were you a prodigy before all this happened to you?”

You paused, your hands freezing. Bucky caught it, his eyes widening. His hands quickly clasped over yours, warming yours up– comforting you.

“You don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, awkward. “I fuckin’- shit. I was just talking without thinking. It was the music still in my head, doll.”

Your lips parted for a brief moment. You could see the panic in his eyes– the true regret he felt. He was scared you would pull away from him, maybe shut him out after all the time you had spent together. 

You swallowed, giving him a smile as you gently took your hands from his. 

“I was accepted by Julliard as an opera singer,” you signed. “My mother was a pianist. My father was a cellist. Music ran in my family. My brother was a scientist. He was the only one that didn’t do music… and he got involved with some bad people. People that–” 

Your hands clenched into fists mid-air. You sucked in a trembling breath, looking everywhere but him. 

And Bucky waited. Patiently. Like he always did. His attention never diverted from you. 

You knew he knew. You were still scared. You knew what was done to his mind, but saying it to his face… You were afraid he would run from you.

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself. You know you're about to sign like a madwoman, maybe too fast for him to even understand you. That's okay. You just need to get it all out, even if it's sloppy or messy. It's how you feel, and you hope it's enough for him to understand.

“They took my voice from me and weaponized it. It took me years to learn how to talk without hurting someone. I could hurt you, Bucky. I could do worse things to you than H.Y.D.R.A. ever did. I don’t know why you keep coming to see me. I’m not saying that I would ever do anything to hurt you. That is the last thing that I would ever do! I really like you, Bucky. I wouldn’t play all these songs for you if I didn’t like you so much, but you need to know that I am the last person on Earth that you should be spending all this time with when I am the one that could hurt you the most–”

Your hands are being forced down, and you feel the cool touch of his vibranium hand cradling your face with so much care you could almost cry. You didn’t have the time to– not when the soft, plush of his lips were against yours. Not when his fingers were intertwining with yours, squeezing your hand as if he were trying to tell you that it was okay. That he understood you. 

Your body reacted to him, allowing him to lead you in a dance to music that only the two of you could hear. Your heart was beating in time with his, feeling the trembling of his fingers against your face as if he was afraid of breaking you. This felt less of a kiss and more like a confession. You kissed him back all the same, feeling the fear that he felt too.

When your lips finally parted from each other, your eyes opened, and the song ended, you watched each other for a few moments.

“I don’t think you could do anything to ever hurt me, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. 

You tried to pull your hand away from his, to reply, but he didn’t let you. He held on firmer, but not hard enough to hurt. Your eyes widened as your lips parted. You were helpless.

Bucky pulled his forehead away from you, to be able to look at your face completely. His eyes scanned your face, every single part of you was bare under his eyes. He was waiting, and your heart was pounding. He wanted you to speak to him. 

You pulled your bottom lip into your teeth for a moment as you steeled your resolve.

“I don’t trust myself to not hurt you,” you whispered, meeting his eyes. 

You watched as his face shifted– pure adoration. You felt warm under his gaze, unable to tear yourself away from his watchful eyes. The look on his face is unguarded. Soft. Reverent and absolutely beautiful. You didn’t know it was possible for him to look at you like this– for anyone to look at you like this. You were glad it was Bucky. You never want Bucky to ever lay his eyes on anyone else the way he’s looking at you at this moment.

Your heart only seemed to clamber even louder in your chest, ringing even louder in your ears. You don’t even remember hearing applause this loud at your most successful concert.

Bucky collects your face in both hands, and his lips peppered all over your skin. Your eyes, your cheeks, your nose. The stubble of his beard brushed against your skin, and you could only let out a soft laugh, hooking your hands around his wrists as he continued to kiss your face all over before he finally stopped at your lips.

“You sound like heaven, doll,” he whispered against your mouth.

“I was made to sound this way,” you murmured back. 

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. He pressed another kiss to your lips before wrapping his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin. 

“I trust you.”

The words are etched into your bones, digging into your soul and burying themselves into the depths of your heart as tears begin to spring to your eyes. Bucky holds you tighter, swaying side to side slowly as his hands rub your back gently, soothing you.

You melt into his chest, into the comfort he gives you, ear pressed above his beating heart. This is your favorite song, you think. Right next to the sound of his laughter.

Music is played between kisses now. 

Your hands will be resting above his hands on the ivory keys, slowly guiding his to glide over the notes, only to hit the wrong ones as he turns to distract you with his lips.

Other times, you'll be sitting in bed together. His back will rest against the headboard, your back against his chest. Bucky's head will lean against yours as you strum along to your guitar, filling the space around you with romance, when his hand will come up and cup your face to demand your attention, guiding you to turn to him for a kiss.

Sometimes, your songs are completely disrupted with Bucky pulling you away from your instrument. He’ll replace your live talent with a song playing from the phone in his back pocket as he pulls you into his arms, taking one hand in his, while his other hand goes around your back. 

“Dance with me, doll?” he grinned at you. 

“Are you trying to relive your glory days, Sergeant?” you teased, hand hooking around his shoulder to press your body closer to his.

“What do you mean?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Music’s playing, there’s a pretty dame in front of me– it would be criminal not to dance right now.”

You could only laugh as he spins you around before returning you back into the security of his arms, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. You only pretend to give him a hard time, and he knows it. You love these soft moments of intimacy, where he reaches for you first. 

“You would think after a month or two of dancing with me, you’d be less stiff, sweetheart,” he hummed in your ear.

“I’m sorry, not everyone was born in a time period where dance halls were the main source of entertainment,” you scoffed in response. 

Bucky laughed, squeezing you tighter to him. “I had a seventy year break. You have no excuses.”

“Fuckin’ old man,” you grumbled, only to let out a shriek as he pinched your side in retaliation.

“You should respect your elders,” he clicked his tongue at you.

“I’m going to put you in a nursing home,” you threatened, but there’s no real heat to your voice, obviously. 

He rolled his eyes in response. “I’ll be what? Almost 200 by the time that comes around? We’ll be in the nursing home together, baby.”

“You think we’ll still be together by then? Alive?” you asked. 

“As long as I have a say in it, yes,” he nodded. 

“You sound so sure,” you frowned at him. 

“And you’re pessimistic. That’s my thing. Get a new hobby.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. You can’t hide the smile on your face. “I bet you liked it better when I didn’t talk.”

“No,” he quickly denied, taking your face in his hands. The swaying stops, and you’re forced to look at him. “Keep talking. I like hearing your voice, even if you say stupid shit.”

“Me being scared for the future is stupid shit?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“… Maybe not that, but I’ll still disprove you,” he dismissed. “You make me look forward to the future, sweetheart. So I need you here. I’m kinda planning my future around you. Can’t have you gone.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure, Buck,” you whispered. 

“Good. Feel pressured,” he chuckled. “I need you to know you’re wanted. The songs you played before I came to you were so sad.”

You cringe a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he hummed, thumbs brushing over your cheeks gently. “Because I get it. I understand.”

“… I know,” you nodded. Because you do.

You’ve spent many nights away from the music since the confession, since your hearts started beating in unison, just laying in your bed and whispering to each other. 

He told you how he laid awake and listened to the music through the vents. How your songs managed to get him to sleep and calmed him down when nightmares plagued him. How you managed to comfort him in his darkest moments, when he felt worthless. 

And he thanked you for it all.

Bucky only chuckled  at you when you burst into tears. You apologized to him— saying it was so stupid to cry when he was the one that was hurting, but he was grateful you were crying for him. 

During your quiet moments together, he would tell you how your music made him feel whole. That you would piece him together slowly, as if you were performing a reprise to his soul like he was a song that had butchered by the wrong conductor. 

You told him he was getting cheesy with his analogies, but he would ask you if you thought he was charming. You would grin and tell him that if he kept it up, you might dedicate a whole concerto to him. 

Just like that night, Bucky had a smile on his face as he leaned closer to you, as he angled your head upwards to meet his lips in a kiss. Your eyes are fluttering shut in anticipation, waiting to feel the soft pressure of his lips—

“Did you do something to him?”

You pulled away at the booming voice that echoed off the walls of your floor, your breath catching in your throat. You look past Bucky at the same time he turns around, and he pushes you behind him, to shield you from the people that just walked into your sanctuary. 

“I asked you a question, agent. You better answer,” Steve demanded, his voice low. 

“She didn’t do anything,” Bucky said, reaching for your hand behind him. He squeezed it. 

“That’s what you would say if she did something,” Steve dismissed. 

“Steve,” Bucky said, exasperated. “She didn’t do anything!”

“How are we supposed to trust that? To trust her?!” Sam demanded, pointing at you. 

Dread filled your gut as you looked down. 

“I trust her!” Bucky shouted back. “She didn’t do anything fucking wrong! Why are you treating her like some sort of criminal?!”

“Bucky, are you even aware of what she can do? Do to your brain?” Steve asked. Then, he continued, voice accusatory, “She’s worse than H.Y.D.R.A. combined if she wanted to be!”

“But she’s not, Steve! She’s never been!” Bucky said, his voice pleading and desperate. 

Your heart was breaking. You couldn’t take this. You couldn’t listen to this anymore. Not just for your own sake, but for his, too. 

These were Bucky’s friends. People that he trusted, people that he cared about. He told you that he cared about them— even though he was frustrated with the way they were handling him. You didn’t want him to argue with them. Not over you. Especially not over you.

“Bucky,” you whispered, watching his shoulders tense. His head whipped towards you. “It’s fine.”

“What? No, it’s not.”

“They’re not gonna listen either way. Just go,” you murmured, squeezing his hand. “I’m not worth the fight.”

His eyebrows furrowed, and he almost looked offended over your words. You watched as his lips parted, about to say something to refute your words, but you slipped your hand out of his. 

The second you did, Steve was crossing the room, a hand on his shoulder to guide him out. You can see Steve muttering something to Bucky that you can’t hear, but you tear your eyes away. Sam is staring at you, gaze hardened. 

“We’ll have someone come and take your toys away by the end of the day,” he said, jaw clenched. “We’ve been getting noise complaints.”

You don’t bother responding, and he doesn’t bother waiting for a response. You’re left alone in the silence of your floor, feeling colder than before. 

Bucky’s head is getting scanned, even though he doesn’t fucking want to put his head in this machine. Everyone was pressing him to at least run through with it once, to at least be able to compare his scan with the brain scan results from your other victims.

He hates the way they phrased it. 

“I’m not a fucking victim. I was there on purpose,” Bucky grunted, clenching his hands into fists. 

“Terminator, why would you go visit the siren on purpose? Are you trying to die?” Tony asked, clicking away on the holographic keyboard. 

On the other side of the glass, Steve and Sam are grilling Natasha. Bucky has no doubt they’re yelling at her for telling him about the truth. Natasha’s face is steeled, and she’s not saying a single word in response. She's just letting the two men yell at her. 

Finally, the cap on his head ascends and Bucky gets the hell out of the chair. He exits the examination room, and goes into the fray.

“— irresponsible it is to expose him to that?” Steve demanded. “Answer me, Natasha!”

“Barnes is a grown adult who can make his own decisions,” Natasha said, her voice even. “And I told him the truth eight months ago. So clearly, he’s been seeing her of his own volition.”

“Or he’s been having his brain fucking scrambled for eight months, Nat!” Sam said, dragging a hand down his face. 

“She used sign language with me for half of those months,” Bucky cut in, everyone turning to look at him. “She didn’t speak a fucking word to me.”

“What?” Steve asked, eyebrows furrowing. 

“I made her talk to me,” Bucky said, voice rising. “I forced her.”

“This is for your own good,” Steve said, clenching his jaw. “She can—“

“She’s done nothing wrong! She can what, Steve? Hurt me? Guess what? I can hurt you. I have hurt you!”

Tension began to settle right over the room like a thick blanket. They could hear the slow breaths of everyone in the room. 

“Scans in,” Tony said, opening the door behind Bucky and cutting the silence in half. “Surprisingly— uh… His brain is completely clear. No sign of siren song or anything.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he released a deep sigh from his nostrils. He turned on his heel, heading towards the exit. 

“Where are you going, Buck?” Sam called out to him.

“To go comfort my girlfriend,” he grunted, fists clenched at his side. 

The lab doors slid open before he reached them, Fury and Clint walking in a second later. 

“No can do Barnes. Go buy her some flowers and chocolates later,” Fury said, dropping a file on the nearest table. “I need all of you on the field ASAP."

His eyebrow furrowed. “What?”

“Satellite feed shows movement in the abandoned mine shaft that Stark took care of a handful of years back in Arizona,” Clint said, sighing deeply. “We’re not sure if someone’s back in the lab down there or if it’s just a fluke, but we gotta go check it out either way. Can’t send a regular team since the tech down there’s pretty dangerous if it’s what we think it is.”

Bucky wants nothing more than to crawl into your bed and hold you in his arms, but that will have to wait. He, along with the others, moves to get suited up. Issues aside, there’s problems that need to be dealt with— problems that are definitely not a fluke. 

This underground site was a hotspot for seismic activity and every two fucking seconds their eardrums would start exploding in their skulls. Steve and Bucky were especially affected, with their heightened sound due to the serum pumping in their veins. 

Comms were especially ineffective, with the fact the frequency kept jamming the channel they were using. 

It was jarring. It fucking hurt. Bucky found himself on his knees, hands pulled over his ears with teeth gritted in pain before a fist would connect with his jaw that he didn’t expect while he was down. 

Bucky could faintly hear for Steve to shout at Tony over broken comms to find out where the machine was that created the sound waves and to break it, but Bucky was certain that Stark’s suit was having issues against the sonic cannon. 

Bucky couldn't tell how much time had passed as he was getting thrown around, beaten up by hands that he couldn't even open his eyes to see. He couldn't even rip his own hands away from his ears to try and guard his head. There was no room to think.

Silence suddenly splashed over him like a bucket of water.

He can hear his own breaths. 

Bucky lowers his hands, confusion rushing through his body as he locks eyes with Steve. Both soldiers have pure adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Then, they notice a new presence. You. 

Their eyes turned towards you, finding that you’re squatting down in front of an enemy, the poor man’s face held in your hand in a crushing grip. He was holding a gun weakly in his hands, trying to raise it to use against you, but it was really no use. 

You’re in your tactical gear— and it’s the first time Bucky’s ever seen you in it. A hood is pulled over your head, and a mask is pulled over your nose and mouth. All he can see is your eyes. You wear fingerless gloves, and there are holsters on your thighs with guns and daggers ready to use. 

“𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔,” you whispered, your voice like a charm. The air shifted, vibrated with your words- not like the sonic cannon that was used to disarm them moments ago. It made you irresistible. They cannot help but fall into your trap, unable to fight against your command. 

But you’re not speaking to Bucky or Steve. 

Your eyes are glowing, swirling blue like the ocean— pulling in your victims into your song. You watched as his lips went from pink to blue, then you let him go. His body fell limp to the floor with a hard thud. 

Both Bucky and Steve look around— all their assailants have stopped breathing. It’s only the two of them that are alive in this room. 

You stand up tall, staring at the body for a few moments before turning towards Bucky, pulling both your hood and your mask off of your face. Concern is all over your features. 

“You look like shit,” you breathed, holding his face in your hands. 

“Well. That’s what happens when you can’t fight back,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he leaned into your touch. “Why are you here?”

“Fury said he lost contact with you guys hours ago,” you quickly said, helping him to his feet. “I already extracted the others— they’re outside already. It’s just you two left.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked. He’s looking you over as if he can see through your gear. 

“Do I look like I’m hurt?” you asked, frowning at him. 

Bucky’s about to reply, to say something smart to make you smile. He doesn’t get the chance. 

“You can control it,” Steve suddenly spoke, both of you turning to look at him. He looks conflicted. Angry. Not with you. With himself. “You— You weren’t just speaking to that one agent.”

“… I wasn’t,” you nodded, then turned away from him. “Come on. With the amount of vibrations that just happened, there’s no telling when this mine shaft will collapse.”

Bucky and Steve support each other’s weight as you lead them out. Stray agents try to come at the three of you, but crumble to their feet with a single word from your lips.

𝒦𝓃𝑒𝑒𝓁.

𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓅.

𝐸𝓃𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽.

𝒟𝒾𝑒.

It’s silent in the quinjet when you’re all secured. The mine shaft fully collapsed with just enough time to spare, destroying everything and the remaining agents left inside. 

The entire team is staring at you both. No one has said a word since the jet took to the sky, and you definitely aren’t going to be the one to speak first.

So, you decide to keep yourself busy. You’re sitting beside Bucky, a med kit opened up on your lap. Bucky has his head leaned back against the jet wall, eyes closed as he lets you do whatever you want— which is taking care of him.

“You would make a great dog trainer,” Tony suddenly said. 

“Stark,” Bucky warned, eyes opening to glare at the man.

“I’m just saying. Does your ability work on just humans? Or all beings with a soul?” 

“Um. I haven’t tried… animals,” you said softly, cautiously. You put down the bloodied gauze to switch out for a new one. 

“You do talk normally! I thought you could only talk with sparkles and vibrations like sirens from folktales!” Tony exclaimed. You made a small face, frowning slightly as you cleaned the cut above Bucky’s eyebrow. 

“Is he always this annoying?” you whispered to Bucky.

“I would say you get used to it, but I just ignore him, sweetheart. He doesn’t get any better,”  Bucky whispered back.

You let out a soft snort, a smile fixing over your face. Bucky couldn’t help but mirror it as you placed the bandage on his face before moving over to his next wound. 

“She smiled. Did you see that?” Clint murmured. 

“I’m more floored by the fact Barnes smiled,” Natasha replied. 

“Jesus,” Bucky grunted, the grin on his face disappearing. 

“What happened to ignoring them?” you chuckled.

“I have a headache,” he replied to you. “A pounding one. None of these fucking idiots are making it any better.”

“Does tylenol work on super soldiers?” you murmured, rifling through the med kit. “Ibuprofen, maybe?”

“Probably not,” he sighed, looking at you. “I’ll try it though. Maybe a placebo effect will happen because I like you.”

You smacked his arm in his response, and he watched as a warmth crept up from your neck to your cheeks. 

Bucky ignored the bug-eyed looks from everyone else in the jet as he took the gel capsules pill from your hand, and swallowed it down without complaint. He settled back into his seat to allow you to finish poking and prodding at his face until you were satisfied— even though he knew he would be fully healed by the time the jet landed. 

Bucky would still kiss you later, and tell you he healed fast because you took care of him. You would believe him just because he said so.

“Debrief right away,” Steve ordered as the jet landed. Everyone grumbled as they got up, but they knew this was coming. The mission was a shitshow. You were fully prepared to go slink back into your corner of the compound when Steve’s eyes fell on you. “You, too.”

You paused, head whipping to Bucky a second later. He gave you a single nod.

You didn’t say a word during the debrief. You were stressed, even though all they were doing was arguing with each other over who took down the most agents before you came onto the field. 

You didn’t realize debriefs were so laid back. The team laughed with each other. They were all still in their gear, still battered and bruised, but they were happy they were together. Happy to come back home, to be able to sit around at this table and be able to banter like this. 

A bitter feeling was creeping up in your chest that you didn’t know how to stop.

You kept your gaze on the table, unable to make eye contact with anyone. You hoped they would all forget that you existed. You hoped to blend into the wall. 

You felt Bucky’s pinky brush against yours under the table. In the corner of your eye, you saw him. He wasn’t looking at you, but his body was leaning towards you. Slowly, his pinky hooked into yours, comfort rushing through your body in waves. 

“Well, I don’t know about you guys— but I am starved. Meeting over yet?” Sam asked, clapping his hands together.

“Sounds good,” Steve nodded.

That was all you needed to sprint out of your chair, the furniture clattering behind you abruptly as you raced for the exit. You could feel the weight of their eyes on you as you ripped the door open, running out. 

You heard Bucky call out your name, heard him stand, heard his footsteps rush behind you. 

You kept rushing down the hall, away from the conference room. You needed to put as much space between yourself and the rest of the team before you broke down. 

Bucky finally caught you by the arm, turning you to face him.

“Doll,” he whispered, hands on your shoulders. “What’s going on?” 

“What’s going on?” you echoed his words in a breathless whisper, trembling in his hands. You were so close to breaking, to falling apart. “What’s going on is that I hate your fucking friends. And I hate myself for admitting it out loud to you because I love you so much and I know you love them.”

Bucky’s lips parted, eyes searching your face as his hands slid down your arms slowly. You watch as he a slow breath escapes his lips as he nods. 

“That’s okay. You can hate them,” he whispered back to you.

“What?” you demanded, shocked. “They’re your friends, Bucky! How can you say—”

“I hate the way they treat you,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “You don’t think I’m pissed off? They find out that you’re useful, so they invite you to a debrief and expect you to just be okay with the neglect and silent bullshit they’ve been putting you through this entire time? I’m livid, too.”

“I don’t want you to fight with them because of me,” you murmured, swallowing thickly. “They only hid things from you to protect you.”

“And I’m choosing to argue with them to protect you.” Bucky replied, cupping your face in his hands. “Not because you need a white knight or because you’re weak, but because I love you. And I love you for you— not due to the fact that you made me or that you charmed me into it.”

“I would never charm you into loving me,” you quickly said, horrified as you grabbed onto his waist, desperate for him to know you were being truthful. 

“I know,” he said, chuckling. His eyes were soft as his thumbs grazed the tops of your cheeks.  “I told you. I trust you, sweetheart. I’ve always trusted you, even if others don’t.”

You let out a shaking breath, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“Now what?” you whispered to him. “What do we do from here?”

“I’ll join you on your solo missions,” he shrugged. “Not that you need my help. I watched you take down an entire room by yourself, but I don’t really feel like going on any missions with those asshoeles any time soon.”

“I don’t go on missions often, baby,” you said, frowning at him. “I usually do interrogations. I rarely use my ability.”

“Oh, so you do dirty work? I can do that, too. Is that why your hands are always scrubbed raw? You’re washing them too much? Let me do it for you,” he said, a grin finding its way on his face. 

“Buck,” you said, a soft giggle escaping your lips. 

“I’m serious, doll,” he said, humming. “Let me just move my shit to your room, too. I already spend most of my day with you, anyway.”

“Not like I can stop you.” You shook your head even though you were smiling. 

Bucky’s lips quirked up just a bit more before he leaned in, finishing the kiss that he wasn’t able to give you earlier. You sighed into him, relaxing into his touch. Bucky held you closer to him, tenderly. Gently. Just as he always did. 

“I’ll harass Sam to give back your instruments,” he whispered against your lips, making you laugh again. “Heard he took them away— fucking bitch. Doesn’t he know I need that shit to sleep?”

“I don’t think he does, baby,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him again.

“I’m telling you,” he muttered, between kisses, “they’re all stupid. I’ll just keep you to myself at this point. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“You’re going to share me, Sergeant?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him as you pulled away from his touch briefly. 

Bucky paused for a moment, thinking over his words. Then, he tugs you back into him, lips meeting yours once more as your feet are lifted off the ground. He’s carrying you towards the back halls to your floor. 

“No. I’m not. Keep hating them, sweetheart. You’re mine,” he murmured against your lips, a smile on his face. 

masterlist

a/n: there was no smut in this fic bc it didn’t feel right given the characterizations i gave bucky and reader. if i write a second part to this, the smut would end up being super super soft and vulnerable bc the two of them are very very gentle with each other

taglist: @duacruel @natsomens @decthaxhrcv @shortandb1tchy @iyskgd @ifuckwithyouanyday @miss-chuchu @bighappypiels @snnoopyy @messrkarmaismygf13 @thebuckybarnesvault @aekzla @simp4f1 @its-in-the-woods @lvrrinx let me know if you would like to be added/removed to my general bucky taglist :)

[vinnybox]

Wilson doing Shadow's idle animation :]

[yougavememyopia]

Here's the result from the poll! Sorry, it took long. I lost my progress and had to write it over T-T. Longer than usual to make it up to my lovely peeps. Anyway, here is the confident, popular yandere who becomes a desperate pathetic mess for you.

Popular yandere, who was never alone. Circled with adored gazes and loud chatters, people gathered around him like he was some kind of celebrity. His overstretched smile full of fake glee. Crinkled eyes masking a hollow emptiness. No one would care enough to truly look at him, all too busy talking nineteen to the dozen.

It was so easy to predict them. The mundane topics boring him to death. Nothing exciting ever happened. Gritting his teeth, he endured their ramblings. Endured their dullness. Their stupid problems.

Taps of his pencil slapped the wooden desk rapidly. A practiced, charming grin when he greeted you— his new project partner. The invisible loser at the background whose face he rather recognized.

"Hey there, guess we're partners, huh? What a total unplanned coincidence! Uhh, anyway, you can pick the topic. Nono, please, go ahead. I'll just follow your lead."

His crew strolled passed you in the fields. Always sinked down on the grass with your back against the concrete wall. Blue light reflected on your face, nose buried deep in your phone.

Your lack of a life amused him. Fascinated at how isolated you were, and yet you were beaming. Giggling at your screen while your posture got worse. Not seeming a bit sad about being alone or wasting your time playing on a machine.

Simple enquiring quickly led to obsessive stalking. Justified by stating how he was merely observing you. Interested in your name and your hobbies, what you ate for the day, where you walked when you had no school, how the interior of your home looked like. A bit of curiosity, that was all!

The school project was the key to getting closer to you. Instant refusal to every person coming his way, sweet talking them into grouping together by pointing out their strengths. No objections were made. His judgment very well-trusted. Now you had the idolized annoyance as your group member, exactly like he planned.

FINALLY, he could talk to the nobody persistently invading his mind. The endless thoughts of you giving him heartache. He couldn't get his beauty sleep at night, and when he did, the dreams were all about you. He wasn't normally the type to approach people, not like he had the time to. Every waking moment of his day was stuffed with zealous yet shallow admirers. Everyone loved him. Gawking at his good looks, adoring his style, praising his intelligence.

You didn't even bat an eye.

He was nonexistent to you. Eyes boring into indifference. Frustrated, at how you treated him like he was someone insignificant. People already began to question his strange, out of the blue behaviour. How he stared at the wall without blinking. You were getting the best of him— he couldn't keep his mask on, uncontrollably snapping at people, apologizing as if he was having a bad day. Every day was a bad day. A torturous wait for you to just look his way.

If you didn't notice him anytime soon, he was going to do something crazy.

Thanks to the project, you finally spoke to him. Irritated, sure. But you saw him, a dopey grin on his face when you repeated back his name. Even getting away with patting your shoulder. He greeted you in the hallways the day after, approached you during lunch the next week, and then started to text you like crazy the following month. No idea how clingy he was acting until you pointed it out. Falling more in love with your weirdness and hidden personality.

You acted uncertain towards him. Hesitant that this was a prank. Afraid that you'd become a laughing stock if this progressed any further. So you built a metaphorical wall between you.

Questions after questions overwhelmingly flooded his brain. Your behaviour much different than the way he was used to being treated. Sarcastic remarks and harsh dismissals hurt his poor, sad heart.

He started to crave even the slightest approval from those around him— what did they think of his carefully picked outfit? Or his light makeup and shiny hair? He needed you to drool over him like the rest of the school did, yet you still didn't trust him. Accusing him of being fake, when all he wanted was to befriend you.

"B-but I swear, I genuinely want to be your friend. Please, listen. I can be myself around you. I don't have to be perfect, y'know? I thought you'd understand..."

As you grew more doubtful of his intentions, he became more hopeless. Desperate to change your mind while fighting the insecurity that loomed over him.

You pushed him to completely give in to the urge to follow you home and watch over you from a distance. He'd ask his many connections to keep an idea on you when he couldn't, but since their questions and teasing and judgement would get on his nerves, he settled for a tracking device instead. The digital dot always beeping in the same, familiar spots on the map.

His mind jumbled into a chaotic mess. Your dislike for him beyond his comprehension. All he ever did was be nice, so why did you not give him the time of day? Gifts nor compliments, nothing was good enough for you. He had never did anything like this before. Chase after someone. Love, actually love someone.

For your attention, he was willing to do whatever.He longed to be useful to you. Be at your beck and call at any time like a loyal dog. Everything from your terrible posture to your poor diet to your sleep schedule, he could take care of it. He could take care of you.

In the end, he had no patience, he couldn't stand the wait— he had to ask you out. A spontaneous minute that he wished he could take back. Stutters left his lips while he tried to make the date sound super romantic. Roses, candle lit dinner, moonlight. A perfected plan delivered with anxious jitter. Red face burning hotter than glowing coals and big, round eyes awaited the response.

"Eh... no thanks."

His eyes twitched. You were a loser! A common known label that he hated to use. But how could you turn down the first guy who pursued you? Choosing fictional anime crushes over a live flawless boy pleading for a date. How long were you going to stay in your lonely shell as a kissless virgin?

His determination didn't waver. He was willing to do anything to win you over. Countless attempts turned down due to excuses. Weeks after weeks of him chasing after you. You were driving him insane. Like you were doing this on purpose. "No?!? W-Wha... Why not? You don't want to go outside, you don't want to come to my place, why... Why can't I come to yours? I-I don't care if it's messy or if it s-smells. I actually love it. Um, I just need a chance, please. I need to prove to you that my love is real."

How did he end up being the one begging at your feet? Fingers clenching around your calves, while he looked up with a shameful blush on his face. Embarrassing himself in front of everyone he knew. Their gasps and murmurs ringing through his ears. Humiliation turning his body weak. Hot unwanted tears flooding his vision. He didn't care— he couldn't take the rejection anymore.

"Please believe me, please. It hurts so bad. Ah, I can't breathe. I love you so much. Pleasepleaseplease don't push me away. Don't cast me aside. I want to be with you. I want to be with you..."

He could barely make out your face with the fat tears rolling down his cheeks. His forehead rested on your knee, his head down as if waiting a death sentence. It was getting more awkward the longer he stayed on his knees. Yet he stayed glued to the harsh, cold floor. He'd never felt emotions to this level of intensity before you came. The hurt tightening his chest. A vice grip clamping down to crush his lungs.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you sighed. Feeling bad about the dishevelled flawed mess he turned into. Sweat worked up on your skin from the many eyes staring at the scene.

"You won't stop until I say yes, huh? I guess you proved you were telling the truth. So, fine. Let's get going now... You brought quite the audience here."

"..." His head remained stuck against your knees. Hands shaking against your legs while he exhaled. Not budging at all. The hushed whispers exchanged in the background making your blood boil. "What are you guys staring at? Scram! Go away! Leave him alone."

And they slowly faded one by one. You ran a hand through the soft, silky hair of the needy boy. More attentive to the mess on the floor to care about your surroundings anymore. Sitting on the floor beside him, you lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. A finger pressing his chin up so you could take a good look at him. He sniffed. Eyes all puffy and red. A deprived beg escaping his glossy lips.

"Please... I—"

You cut him off with a small smile. "You can hug me until you're satisfied. I'll be here."

Arms tangled tighter around you. Head tilted in, and you realized what this meant. A hint of anxiety bursted butterflies your stomach. But you went for it. Suppressing the flinch and moving in. Eyes half-lidded when velvety flesh met. Low hum buzzing from him. He pulled you closer and closer. Lips parted while you snaked your tongue into his mouth. A loud moan met your eardrums. Your little theory of him wanting you to take charge confirmed correct.

He melted like butter despite how you barely knew what you were doing. Uneven movements and unsure licks were just met with pathetic whimpers. Each stroke of saliva making him hot and dizzy. You had a way of making him unbelievably sensitive. No clue to why he felt like this was his first real kiss too. Never understanding the fuss about this pleasant feeling until now.

He pulled back for breathe much too soon, and panted against your face. "I'm so glad we found each other, darling. C-can I call you that? Since I'm your b-boyfriend now... Right?"

You didn't answer. He didn't give you a chance to. Another peck was placed on your lips. Desperate tongue reaching to wet your lips while you cupped his face. Hands grabbing your wrists to ensure you keep them there. Determination ran through him; He was going to plead and plead until you finally gave in.

[midnghtprentiss]

possessive - jack abbot

a/n: so i have this scenario in my head but idk if i love it or hate it, it’s up to you at this point 😭 sorry for any misspellings, english is not my first language

pairing: jack abbot x f!pediatrician!reader

summary: jack abbot is a possessive man and we love that

warnings: dr abbot being hot, myrna being inconvenient as always, medical inaccuracies, let me know if i missed something (gif not mine i just find it here)

Possessive is a word referred to ownership or a relationship of belonging between one thing and another.

Is the state of having, owning, or controlling something.

Jack Abbot was a possessive man.

Not an inconvenient possessive man. He was subtle. One hand at the end of your back. Picking you up at the end of your shift when he isn’t working. Talking to you with the softest voice. Sharing coffee or a granola bar he had in his pocket for you. The glances to other men when you’re walking by.

He had nothing to fear with you. You sleep and wake up with him every day. He knew exactly how to show someone that you belonged to him without saying a word. He hasn't put a ring on your finger and yet everybody in the ED understands you’re his girl and nobody was crazy to question him.

It was supposed to be your day off. You already made plans with Emery and Parker to go out for dinner and have some drinks like you do every month. That’s your way of gossiping and keeping the bond stronger, especially working at male dominated fields. Keeping the girls together makes the job easier and better. You were even planning to invite Samara to the next dinner.

The best thing about the trio was initially to piss Jack off and because you worked so well together and a friendship naturally bloomed - and thank god it did. The funniest, dirtiest and best conversations came out so easily between you that it was impossible to keep track of the actual dialogue topic when you combined.

Unfortunately your phone vibrated in your purse during dinner with a message from Robby letting you know there was an emergency of a child that fell and the parents were asking for you. These things were pretty normal in your routine when you work with pediatrics emergencies. In less than fifteen minutes you were walking towards the ED entrance like you weren't just discussing panties over drinks.

Worst part of it? You had no time to change your clothes. So you were standing at the nursing station with the most expensive Valentino dress you own, brand new shoes and your favorite coat to protect you from the cold.

The scrubs were a protocol when you’re working and you were not. You hated to work without them and hated even more that your backup scrubs were not in your car. Jack must’ve taken them to wash and didn’t put them back.

Jack didn’t see you coming and he had no idea of the dress you chose for your girls night. Bridget was already laughing when you entered, holding you something to cover up until you have to leave again. She quickly took your overcoat and gave you a white coat, which helped a little but not too much because of your heels clicking at the floor.

“Wow doc, didn’t know you could look that hot.” You heard Garcia teased and shook your head laughing. “You should show up like this more often, as an experiment of course.”

“I appreciate your words Yoyo. Maybe next time I'll show up with your favorite color.” She blew you a kiss and walked away laughing.

“He’s going to need to be sedated when he hears you’re in his ED looking like this” Robby chuckled when he found at the nursing station. “Sorry I've called you, they insisted on being you. They are barely letting Mel work there.’

“It’s fine, Robby. I don’t like my day off anyway.” You winked and went straight to the room they were in.

The child parents came running to you the moment you entered their plain sight. Dr. King was accompanying them before you arrived, describing the situation in detail and how she dealt with them. And for her face you knew how those parents weren’t easy to deal with.

“Dr (Y/L/N), this is Jamie, 10 month old, previously healthy, fell from the crib around 9 p.m.. According to the mother, he tried to pull himself up using the crib rails, lost his balance, and fell over the side of the crib, landing directly on the floor. He cried immediately for about fifteen minutes, with no loss of consciousness and no vomiting. The mother noted only mild bruises in the right frontotemporal region, with no other signs of trauma. He remained active, fed normally, and showed no changes in consciousness or behavior. “ You heard Mel's words with attention while examining the child.

“You ordered any exams, doctor King?” She nodded and passed you the chart to look at.”

“A CT, x-ray and some labs just to make sure everything is perfectly fine.” You nodded, shaking your head.

“Excellent.” You smiled at her and turned your attention to the parents.

“Does he cry when he moves? Has he had any seizures? Allergies or something we need to know?” They kept denying. “Why don’t you bring him early? It’s almost one in the morning.” The parents kept their silence and you shrugged your shoulders, looking at them. “Alright then. Doctor King will accompany you to the CT and the x-ray.”

Something you loved about yourself was the way you’re pretty centered and rigid about your job, especially working around and with children. Fighting with parents? You do every shift. Making the little ones laugh? You did it too. You were tough and nice but at the same time the children absolutely loved you. The most common thing to see was you holding a child mid shift and laughing about it with the nurses.

He was waiting for you at the nursing station. Coffee in hand. Jaws tighten when his eyes land on you. Eyebrows raised while he analyzed your shoes. You leaned closer to him, enough to look professional and only a little mischievous so he could smell your new perfume - the one he bought you.

“Hi there, doctor Abbot.” You touched his arm and smiled, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Peds emergency, they have to call the best.”

“This is not workplace clothing.” His hand reached yours, quickly brushing your finger.

“I had a nice time at dinner, thanks for asking, by the way.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll go home when his exams are finished. I won’t even leave this spot.” You sit in the vague chair and cross your arms.

“Nice coat, actually.” Dr. Jack Abbot. It was his coat. “You should work with this more often since you don’t want to change your last name.”

Before you can even replied you heard Myrna screaming at the other side of the room.

“Nice ass, MacDreamy.” She pointed at you.

“Been working out lately, Myrna. Do you like it?” You teased her and she giggled.

“Watch out or I’ll steal your girl, Abbot. I killed a man before and I can do it again.”

When you turned to look at Jack again, he was serious. His forehead was tense and his knuckles white from holding his coffee mug. His hair was a little messy and there was some blood in his scrubs.

Hot. Really hot.

He didn’t care when your friends, female friends, flirted with you because he knew you flirted back joking. He respected your boundaries and you respected him too. You still find it pretty amusing how he gets all possessive over small things, lucky you he didn’t see the dress you were wearing underneath the white coat.

Vintage Valentino, sheer black chiffon, off-the-shoulder neckline with the fabric draped down the arms, creating a dramatic, sophisticated look. At the bust, a large central bow, asymmetrical and flowing skirt, with soft, layered fabric and a high front slit that reveals the left leg. Jack never complained or talked badly about your clothing, he actually enjoyed seeing you wearing the clothes you liked - he enjoyed taking off more. He describes being an extension of your personality.

“Want to talk about that dress?” He lifted up the white coat a little. “Showing legs and neck like crazy, hm?”

“Nope, we’re not doing this here. You’re working.”

“Why not? I thought you like showing off a little too much.” He crossed his arms and you sigh.

“Oh my God, is this foreplay?” His eyes locked on yours. “Fuck it, I’m into it.”

“Just stay here until the boy it’s back.” He stared at you for a few seconds and you tried to control your smile.

“Are you jealous, Abbot?” You heard Shen comment and buried your face in your hands. He just gave him the nastiest look you’ve ever seen in your life and you can tell he already gave you some looks at you in the bedroom.

The exams took a while to get ready and when they returned to the emergency room, you met them again holding a tablet to explain the situation to them. Immediately the little boy was already in your arms, resting his head over your shoulder.

“The CT and the x-ray both came normal, no injury or other systemic trauma. He’s safe and sound. If you notice something is different, bring him immediately.” You hold his little hand and smile brightly. “You’re lucky to be here today, Jamie.”

The parents asked a few questions about the exams and the therapy you chose for him and after they left you stayed inside the empty room for a while before you left to grab the rest of your stuff.

Jack was talking something with Robby when you approached them, taking off the white coat that belonged to your man and putting on your warm and cozy overcoat. His eyes went straight to your almost bare chest, he had to scan the room pretty quickly for perverts watching you. One drunk guy screamed that he wanted you to talk to him, Myrna said something about your ass again and this time Mel came in complementing your legs.

“You should be grateful you weren’t there when Emery and Parker saw me, you probably be in jail now.” He helped you close the buttons of your coat.

“Remind me to put a goddamn ring on your finger.” He whispered closer to you, making you burst out laughing.

“What a romantic proposal. I’m really emotional.” Jack rolled his eyes, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I already heard some jerks talking about you and I didn’t appreciate their tone.” You passed your arms around his shoulder - ignoring the PDA rule you established for work.

“Yeah, I’m still sleeping in your bed tho.” He agreed, laughing softly. “Gotta go now. Emery is waiting for me at Five Guys and I could kill for a burger now.”

“Be careful, beautiful.”

“Try to go home in one piece.” You squeezed his shoulder and winked before walking away.

When you arrived for your next shift there was a big diamond on your finger and the biggest smirk on Jack's face when people started to talk about it.

[not-neverland06]

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 

“You look like shit.” 

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[nitadllyss]

The wrong pill.

Plot: Han takes a pill for his training, not realizing it’s viagra—let alone on the day he was going to see you.

Genre:smut, nsfw, Erotic Romance, PWP.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, use of Viagra, sex under its influence, oral sex (m!receiving), no condom use, semen, penetration (m/f), praise, etc.

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

Han had been fighting hard with the staff to be able to show off his body and tattoos. For this reason, he was preparing physically with great dedication. He never skipped a day at the gym, and it was obvious how much more muscular he had gotten.

He was now getting ready to train with Changbin. They were at his house, since Han had stayed over the night before; it had been too late for him to return home. To prepare his pre-workout shake, he used Changbin's stuff.

"Where do you have the creatine?" Han asked while rummaging through the drawer where Changbin kept his supplements.

"They are the transparent capsules" Changbin answered, focused on making his own pre-workout shake.

Han took his shake followed by the corresponding pills.

Everything was going well during the training. He was really satisfied with the results he was getting. For him, gaining muscle was easier, so in a short time he could already notice a noticeable difference.

As he was training, his alarm went off to remind him to take his intra-workout pill. He was committed to getting good and fast results, so he never missed a dose of vitamins or supplements.

“Hey, Bin, do you have any intra-workout pills?” Han asked, a little worried when he realized he hadn’t brought any.

“I think there’s L-Carnitine in my bag. Check it out and take one,” Changbin said, pointing to his gym bag.

Han walked over, opened the bag, and saw a mess of pills. Changbin definitely needed to be more organized. He assumed it was one of the white capsules, so he wasn’t too careful when taking one.

About 40 minutes later, after finishing his workout, he headed home. He was excited because he would see you today. They were having a sleepover. They weren’t a couple or anything, just best friends… although Han had been in love with you forever.

As he arrived, he started to feel strange. He was sweatier than usual, and as he looked in the mirror, he noticed his neck and ears were red. He brushed it off and went to take a shower, making sure he looked good for when you arrived.

After getting ready, however, he noticed that his face was still red, his heart was racing, and most worryingly… he had an erection. And it wasn't a regular one.

He didn't understand why, but his erection was strong and persistent.

Just as he was trying to do something to disguise it, he heard a knock on the door. He felt a chill in his chest and his nervousness increased.

When he opened it, there you were, looking cute and radiant as always. But something was different. He no longer noticed how pretty your makeup or hair looked. He could only focus his attention on how your breasts stood out under the neckline of your blouse and how juicy your thighs looked under your skirt.

"Hey!" you greeted, smiling, and went over to hug him, like you always did.

"Hey, babe" he replied playfully, using the nickname he used to call you.

You smiled at him and walked into his house.

"I'm sorry if I look all dressed up, I just got back from an outing with friends. Could you lend me some comfortable clothes to sleep in?"

He felt his erection throb as he heard that. Just imagining you in his clothes was driving him crazy.

"Ah… yeah, yeah, I'll be right back," he stammered, hurrying to his room. He looked for one of his shirts and, upon returning, handed it to you.

You changed without a problem, leaving you only with the shorts that you were wearing under your skirt.

"Thanks, Ji," you said, turning around to show him how his clothes looked on you.

Was he drooling? He wasn't sure, but he was literally mesmerized by the way your breasts were poking out from under his shirt. He was going to lose control.

"Come on, let's find the movie," you said, sitting next to him on the couch and resting your head on his shoulder as he browsed through the options.

You picked a horror movie, his favorites. Han hoped it would distract him from you, but every time you freaked out and came closer, his erection throbbed harder. It had even started to hurt.

After a while, you went to the bathroom. When you came back, you froze.

Han was on the couch, rubbing the bulge in his pants, panting softly.

"Ha-Han?" you asked, approaching him cautiously. It was then that you noticed the wet spot on his clothes.

"Mmh… I'm s-sorry…" he mumbled, throwing his head back, unable to keep his hands away from his crotch.

"Han, wtf?", you said, a bit embarrassed, not fully understanding the situation.

"Please don't be mad… I don't know what's wrong with me, but it hurts so much…" he whispered with his eyes closed, wishing the earth would swallow him up.

Just then his cell phone rang. It was Changbin.

"Bro, I think you took one of my viagra pills. That, or one went missing… I hope it doesn't cause you too much trouble."

"Are you kidding me?" Han almost screamed. "Why the hell would you have that in your bag? Ahg, it would kill you!" He hung up the call, frustrated.

Now everything made sense. At least for him.

You, on the other hand, were still standing in front of him, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Han looked up and let out a gasp as he watched you fix your eyes on his erection. His face flushed with embarrassment and he quickly placed a cushion on his lap.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, feeling like crying from both the shame and the pain in his pants.

"Don't worry... I'll leave so you can, uh... fix that..." you said, looking away, your cheeks flushing.

"Please... stay..." he asked almost in a plea.

You hesitated for a second, but seeing him like this, you couldn't help but feel a little sorry. And what was worse... you felt the wetness in your underwear since you noticed his bulge.

Han grunted as he felt you approach and pressed the cushion harder against himself.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, curious. You didn’t know if his gasps were from pain or pleasure.

“A lot…” he closed his eyes, rubbing himself more desperately.

You bit your lip. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Would you...want me to help you?"

Han felt his breath hitch.

“You don’t have to… I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…” but his hips contradicted his words. Not to mention the way his cock thrashed around in his pants.

But instead of answering, you placed a hand on top of his and pulled the cushion off his lap.

“I want to do it,” you whispered before leaning in and devouring his lips.

You could feel him holding back in the kiss, making hesitant movements, so you went deeper, mixing your tongues and sitting on top of his lap.

He couldn't help but growl into your mouth, the firmness with which he held your hips applying pressure having that slight relief that at the same time made him thirsty for more.

They got lost in the messy kiss, Han was already more confident and in control of the situation. As he pulled away he bit your lower lip in an attempt to chase you.

"Han~" you began to move your hips in circles, enjoying how his body reacted, feeling him so firm under you.

Han was so lost, he felt very high.

He was drowning in your neck, licking and biting every trace of visible skin.

"Han wait" you pulled away from the addictive sensation of his hot and wet tongue on your skin.

"Do you want to stop?" He said a little worried and disappointed, leaving a little space.

"No, I just want to make you feel good" you smiled and gave him a chaste kiss leaving him stunned.

You climbed off his lap and knelt in front of him.

You gave his thigh a caress before pulling down his fly. Seeing the wet spot on his underwear made your mouth water. You gave his clothed cock a kiss and then a lick.

Han's hands clenching the couch, his white knuckles trying not to fuck your mouth madly.

You pulled his underwear down along with his pants to his ankles and felt the saliva pooling in your mouth.

His tanned cock with its red head very sensitive. It was shiny from the precum that bathed it excessively.

With your thumb you touched the slit of his head probing a little. You smiled at the gasps from him.

"Ahh~ Y/N don't play" he clenched his jaw a bit desperately.

You gave him a kitten lick along his length and then swirled around his tip, you felt that with so little he was close to his release.

You started jerking him off with your hands, mixing your licks and squeezes.

Han was literally struggling not to cum and that started to bother you. You took him in your mouth, sucking lightly and making a mess of saliva and his fluids.

“You look so cute like this,” he said, totally pleased by the way your chin was disgustingly dripping with saliva. His duality made you clench your legs, minutes ago he was all whiny begging like a bitch and the tone he let out was so different.

You let out a moan and took him deeper, making yourself gag.

"Mmh you like being good for me? I'm sure you were drooling seeing me hard" he put a hand on your head, gathering your hair in a handful.

You rolled your eyes and moaned again, not quite understanding if it was his tone that caused it or the simple fact of being him.

"You feel so fucking good, you have a very skilled little mouth" he threw his head back growling at your gasps.

Determined to make him cum you forced your poor throat accompanying with your hands squeezing and massaging his balls.

You felt his cock move in your mouth.

"Mmh Y/N w-wait" he tried to stop your movements, but you only stood firmer, watching him stagger was everything.

Out of instinct he pressed your head towards him, betrayed by his pleasure seeking body.

Then after a few more seconds he cum in your mouth with many thick loads straight to your throat.

The growl followed by a pornographic moan was beautiful. He threw his head back and let go of your head.

"Was it good?" You said smiling licking your cum stained corners.

"It was literally amazing" he smirked and covering his eyes with his arm.

"Thanks Y/N" he said looking at you and caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You snuggled into his hand lovingly until you saw him frown.

"What? You're still hard? How is that possible" you said stunned, he was still rock hard AFTER CUMMING.

"It's not really something I can help" he grimaced.

"It's a good thing" you said standing up.

"Hmm?" Han said confused looking at you.

"It would really be a shame if you left me wanting to fuck, I really appreciate that pill" you said biting your lip and pulling down your shorts along with your underwear.

Han followed your movements attentively, as if he was bewitched by your charm. Seeing your underwear on the floor he let out a gasp at the visible stain of arousal you had left.

"You're needy aren't you?" He smiled shamelessly as if it wasn't his cock that had been erect for over an hour.

He took off his shirt showing his tattoos, you had already seen them, but seeing them together with his needy cock is something different.

You followed his steps and undressed completely, he stretched out his hand, in a quick movement he left you on your knees on the couch, your face against the couch and your ass completely exposed to his mercy.

"I promise that after this I will take the time to adore you as you deserve" he said in your ear followed by a kiss on your cheek.

You felt your heart flutter.

"But now I'm going to use you however I want" he ran his tongue disgustingly across your cheek, dirtyly erasing the tender kiss he had left.

He took your moan as consent and positioned himself behind you.

"So cute, willing to help me even if she has to give me her body" he smacked your ass with his hard cock making you gasp. He bit his lip to stop himself from moaning.

He spit on your entrance and without preparation pushed the tip in stretching you deliciously.

You both let out a gasp, the desire that was there making the pleasure double.

"You're so tight" he pushed himself in a little further and you could only moan begging for him to bottom out.

When he reached his base you arched your back and threw your head back.

"You're being so good for me" he began to give slow but deep thrusts.

"You don't know how many times I masturbated imagining having you like this for me" he growled.

In response you moaned and clenched around him.

He put his hand on your head pushing hard against the couch and began to penetrate you faster and harder.

You just moaned with each thrust totally lost in the way you felt every inch of his cock in your insides, the pain of his grip on your head making it even more pleasurable. You were completely at his mercy.

He put his other hand on your hip, helping him thrust more violently, moaning and grunting at how close his climax felt.

And before he had a chance to pull out of you, he cum deeply.

Feeling his hot cum fill you and his grunt you joined him in the climax moaning and clenching yourself choking his member against your rubbery walls now painted white.

You were so exhausted you could only gasp waiting for him to pull out.

He was still buried deep appreciating the warmth of your shared orgasms.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't want to..." he said, still without leaving you.

It's like his brain works, but his body has control.

"Calm down, actually, I liked it" you said trying to get over the climb.

He withdrew from you slowly, making you feel every inch you were losing. When he pulled out completely he admired your stretched entrance dripping with your mixed fluids.

"Are you okay?" He came back to reality and approached your face to check.

" It was so good" you said smiling and a bit sleepy "so you masturbated thinking about me? That's interesting" you laughed mockingly.

"Shut up, there's no need to repeat that" he was blushing as if you hadn't fucked two minutes ago.

You lay down and looked at him a little worried about what would happen to you after that.

"Can we leave that talk for later?" Literally as if he had read your thoughts.

"What needs to be done now?" You said, not understanding why he was putting off the talk.

You then saw him turn bright red and look down at his cock. He was hard again.

This was going to be a long sleepover.

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

English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know 🙏🏻.

I need more practice writing smuts :((

I have several Chan fics waiting to be reviewed before posting 🤭.

If you have any requests, send them💞.

[multific]

Motherhood

Yautja x Reader

Summary: After you gave birth to your son, it took you some time to get used to having a half-Yautja and half-human. 

You felt sore all over. 

You moved against the fur but your whole body felt sore.

You could hear your mate’s soft breathing, it immediately made you feel at ease.

Yet, something felt out of place.

As you stirred from your sleep, you sat up in your bed and looked around. Everything looked normal, except for one thing.

The little child who used to be under your heart was now in a crib beside you. 

You looked at your mate, sleeping soundly beside you.

He got used to sleeping with you to the point where he didn’t even care anymore if you moved or woke up. 

It wasn’t always like that.

He often woke up with you when he took you into his home, but he got gradually used to you being with him.

You moved over to the crib, leaving the warmth of your bed, you stood up and got your son out of his crib.

It was a little strange to call him your son, after all, he looked nothing like you.

He looked like a pure Yautja, except for his eyes, his eyes were yours.

He wasn’t sleeping when you lifted him out of his crib, instead, he was watching, learning.

You ignored all the pain in your body as you moved out of the bedroom and into what you would call a kitchen.

You got yourself a glass of water as you sat down on one of the chairs. With your child in your arms, you moved him so you could see his face.

He laid in your lap.

“Will you never cry?” But your Baby had no reply. Of course, he didn’t he wasn’t even a day old. You watched him as his eyes wandered from your eyes to your chest and hands. 

You held a finger out to him, which caught his attention and he immediately grabbed it.

He continued to watch your finger as you smiled.

This little moment reminded you that even if he looked like a Yautja, he was still a baby.

Your baby.

This little boy in your lap was not so long ago in your stomach.

It was crazy to think about.

Your house felt a little too quiet, usually you were never up without your mate. So, this felt a little strange. 

You looked at your son.

“How am I supposed to feed you?” You said as you lifted him, trying to see if he was hungry or not. He was, you didn’t know how, but you could tell.

You pulled your nightgown down and you didn’t know how, but he was a natural.

You watched as he fed. 

He truly didn’t feel like your son. You looked after so many Yautja babies when you joined their tribe, this felt almost like one of those moments.

Except for the feeding part. Only a mother can feed their child.

And your son was no exception.

While he was born into a very high place in the hunting tribe, he was still your son. 

A highly anticipated member.

Your Mate was the right had of the tribe leader, a high position with lots of responsibilities.

One of which was to bring a son into the world.

Which you just managed to do.

You had a pregnancy which left your body sore and your mate feared the worst, but thankfully, you were able to give birth without any major issues.

And now, here you were, holding him and feeding him.

Your thumb ran down his little cheek, right next to where his mandibles were.

“You are beautiful.” You smiled and the child just kept looking at you.

Once he finished eating you pulled your gown back and pulled him to your chest, laying him down.

Did Yautja babies even burp?

Guess you will find out soon.

He did burp.

A small little burp.

And soon, he was off again.

You got up from the chair and headed back to the bedroom.

You got in, the fire was still going, but now, your mate was up.

He looked at you then at your son in your arms.

“He was hungry.” You said as you put him back into his crib before climbing back on the furs.

You let out a long yawn before getting under the covers. 

Your mate made a sound before laying back down himself. You lay down closer to him as he pulled you closer.

Maybe it was a difficult thing to give birth to a Yautja baby. Maybe it was difficult being married to one as well.

But you loved them both with all of your heart and that was enough, more than enough.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[y3sterdaysproblem]

stuck with u - c.s.

takes place after this

cw: smut, angst, chris being toxic, p!link

wc: 2.8k

part of the toxic!fwb!chris series

he’s here again, just like you knew he would be.

he blows you off, hurts you more than you ever thought he’d be able to and then once you’re ready to walk away, he comes crawling back and begs for forgiveness, tells you that he just needs a little more time to figure things out.

it never made sense to you. you were under the impression you’d both stopped sleeping with other people, you spent time together without sex being involved and he did things for you that he never used to do before he knew how you felt.

he’d rub your feet after a long day at work, hold you close when your emotions got the best of you, even make you food to the best of his abilities if you were too lazy to get up.

why wouldn’t he just bite the bullet and tell you how he feels, too? part of you desperately hoped that things would change this time, that this would be the moment that he finally gets the balls to admit what you both know is true.

sure, you had your issues, your own toxic traits like sleeping around when things got hard, looking for comfort in a man when you couldn’t face reality, deflecting when you couldn’t win an argument, acting like you could never be wrong. all of this extended so far past chris, it seeped into your every day life, relationships that meant even more to you than this one, but being around him felt like maybe it would be worth it to try and not be so bitter, so awful.

chris texts you to tell you he’s arrived and you’re at your door in the next ten seconds, pulling it open to reveal him on the other side.

you’re beyond shocked when you see a bouquet of flowers in his hand, your favorites, held out as he grinned sheepishly. “hi,” he says, stepping into the threshold. “hi…” you answer breathlessly as you watch him come closer.

he looked good, exactly how he knew you liked him. baggy, blue jeans, knees ripped up slightly, dirty air force ones on his feet, black hoodie zipped up halfway on top of a black t-shirt and a snapback flipped around on his head, curly hair peeking out the bottom.

he steps into your apartment and immediately presses his lips to your cheek, letting them linger while his hand pushed the door shut behind him. “i’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, wrapping his arms around you, bouquet resting against your back.

you sigh, wanting to melt into him but needing to hold your ground. “for what?” you ask, stepping out of his grasp to turn and walk away, heading to your bedroom to curl up in bed while he inevitably tried to save things again.

chris follows you, setting the flowers down on your table as he passes it. when you guys get into the bedroom, he looks around, noticing that it looked slightly more disheveled than it usually did. “for last night,” he says like it’s obvious, watching you move to sit on the edge of the bed. “for ditching you when i said i’d be there. i don’t mean to make you feel like you’re not important.”

here he goes, his typical spiel when it comes to gluing things back together. you stare up at him, expression blank. you’re exhausted, all the back and forth finally catching up with you. you didn’t understand how he wasn’t tired of all of this, too.

“chris,” you sigh, shaking your head as you scratch at your scalp, messy bun wobbling with your actions. “i think it might be time we call this.”

he looks taken aback, head pulling back slightly in shock. “what are you talking about?” he asks, coming closer until he can sit next to you in bed. “why would we do that?”

you don’t want to look at him but his presence is so demanding any time he’s around you that it’s like your eyes are just drawn to him, your body turning to face his. “because it’s exhausting, chris. i can’t keep doing this and acting like it doesn’t fucking suck. you act like my boyfriend and then turn around and do some shit that fucks me up so bad i feel like i’m crazy! i let my guard down and then you do some shit like go hang out with girls you don’t even know when you’re supposed to be with me.”

“i didn’t know there were gonna be more girls there,” chris groans, knowing exactly what this was about to turn into. but you didn’t want an argument, you just wanted to be done. “come on, it’s not like i did anything with them.”

you stare at chris, not quite believing him and he senses this. “you were drunk around girls and you didn’t do anything?” you ask him, raising your eyebrows slightly, tone flat. “would matt say the same thing?”

“yes,” chris says instantly and his answer shocks you. he sounded so confident that matt would corroborate his story. “i thought about you the whole fucking night. i felt terrible. i was sitting in the corner of the room by myself texting you, trying to call you, waiting for you to just text me back.”

his hand comes out to rest on your thigh that faced him and you knew you should’ve pushed him off, but something about the way he spoke to you had you believing him, a mistake you seemed to make every time you found yourself in this position.

“chris-“ you start, but he interrupts you, turning his body to face yours as well. “i know you don’t believe me, but you can ask him. you know matt would never lie to you.” he sighs, seemingly distressed.

you’ve never seen him like this, this worried. “you know how hard all of this is for me but i’m trying,” chris continues, his other hand coming out to grab one of yours. “i’m trying. i want… fuck, i don’t know. i want you in a way i’ve never wanted anybody else before and that scares me. i’m used to fucking things up, ruining anything good that happens to me but i talk about you all the time, even when i don’t realize i’m doing it. you’re constantly on my mind.”

you stare at him, your eyes searching his for a thread of honesty, and it terrified you how truthful and remorseful he looked. “chris…” you sigh again, and once more he scoots closer, tightening his grip on your thigh. “i can’t do this-“

“stop,” he interrupts, dropping your hand from his to reach up and tuck a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, wanting to take in your full appearance no matter how disheveled you seemed. “you don’t mean that, you’re just mad at me. listen when i tell you that i’m sorry and it won’t happen again.”

“but it will happen again!” you huff as you push his hand away from your face. “that’s the problem. it’ll always happen again with you and i’m sick of it. all this back and forth, all these emotions that come with being around you, it’s exhausting. i never know what version of you i’m going to get, and sure, it’s been a lot better recently but for what? you’re never gonna be my boyfriend, so why waste my time falling for you more and more when you’re just gonna run off some day?”

chris seems taken aback at your words, his hand that rubbed over your skin pausing for a few moments as he thought of what to say. “why… why do we have to label anything? we enjoy being around each other, we’re not sleeping with anybody else, can’t you just give me time to figure out what it is that i want?”

you sigh, expecting nothing more than to hear him say those words. time. that’s all he ever asked for was time. “i’ve given you time,” you say quietly, defeated. “i’m out of time. i can’t do this.”

he shakes his head, not accepting this answer and he moves quicker than you can stop him, pinning your body down to your bed, his hips settling between your thighs familiarly. “don’t push me away,” chris breathes out, voice full of desperation as he looks down at your wide eyed expression. “come on, you don’t mean this. i’ll get better, i swear. give me another chance.”

you’re about to speak, about to push him away and tell him to fuck off, that you’re serious this time, but when his lips come down and start pressing against your jaw, kissing down to your neck the way he knows you love, the only sound that comes out of you is a whiny breath, head tilting away from him as your eyes flutter.

“there’s my girl,” he whispers against your skin, one of his hands sliding up underneath your tank top, his cold fingers triggering goosebumps on your stomach. “i know you don’t want me to leave. you’d just embarrass yourself anyway when you beg me to come back, tellin’ me nobody else can make you feel like i can. just let me stick around and i’ll make it worth it.”

you reach up to hold onto his biceps, torn between pushing him away and just pulling him closer, but you were never strong enough to push him off of you, especially not right now when it’s been so long, when you craved him so badly. “chris,” you breathe out and you feel his lips curl up as they kiss against your collarbone now, teeth nipping gently at your skin.

“what, baby?” he coos, tone almost mocking as he pushes your tank top over your tits, moving his mouth down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, moaning as he flattened his tongue against you. he craved you just as badly as you craved him if not more.

chris pops his lips off of you, staring down at spit slicked skin. every part of you always tasted so good, whether you had just gotten out of the shower or were covered in a sheen of sweat, he loved having his mouth whenever he could on you, but now as he looked at you, chest already rising and falling as you watched him, too, he needed more.

chris scoots down the bed and wastes no time in slipping your shorts and panties down your legs with your help, throwing them onto the floor haphazardly. you instinctively spread your legs for him the second you were unrestricted, not missing the slight smirk on his face when he saw the slightest glisten in your folds.

“shut up,” you say sternly, wanting nothing more than to smack the look right off of his face. “i didn’t say anything,” chris hums with a prideful shrug, taking off his hoodie and throwing it somewhere as well before he grabs both of your thighs and pushes them up, leaning in and immediately attaching his lips to your pussy.

filthy moans slip from both of your mouths, yours a sound of relief at the feeling of him finally settling where you needed him most and his a hungry groan of desire. despite how toxic things always got between you two, you’d always give into him, unable to stand your ground very long when you would tell him things needed to change.

he ate you out like a man starved, loud slurping noises filling the air as his fingers dug into your skin, holding your thighs apart to keep you spread underneath him.

you reach down and pull the hat off of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair immediately like they always do, holding his face close and refusing to let him move away as he devoured you, deep groans of satisfaction rolling from his lips with every taste.

“f-fuck, chris, i’m not letting you off this easy,” you choke out, voice strained as you throw your head back into your pillow. he doesn’t answer, only hums and slides one hand up until he’s able to dip two fingers inside of you, forcing your thoughts even further back in your head. “oh my- yes, right there.”

his fingers curl and twist inside of you just like he knows you love, tongue still working tirelessly on your clit, bringing you close to the edge faster than anyone else has ever been able to do. chris has always been so good at making you feel good, his tongue, fingers, his dick always taking you to heights you’d never even been able to imagine prior to him, and that fact didn’t change now, even as you tried to cut him off and end things, he was still the only one that could make you feel like this.

just as you’re approaching your climax, chris pulls off and slips his fingers out of you, sliding up the bed between your legs. his free hand comes up to grip your jaw, forcing you to peel your eyes open and look at him as he presses his two middle fingers against your clit and starts rubbing back and forth quickly, soaking in your desperate moans.

“you gonna cum for me?” he rasps, staring into your eyes as your face contorts from the pleasure, your thighs trying to close on either side of him. all you can do is nod while you grip onto the sheets, your orgasm plowing into you violently, entire body trembling.

chris coaxes you through it, only pulling his hand away when you started whimpering from overstimulation, but he only moves away to undo his belt and the button on his jeans, pushing them down just enough to pull his cock from his briefs.

“gonna run your mouth ‘n sound all pathetic and whiny just to fall apart for me, huh?” he teases ruthlessly, wasting no time in burying himself to the hilt inside of you, groaning at the feeling of your walls still twitching from your orgasm.

“fuuuck,” chris breathes, his own eyes fluttering shut for a moment before reopening. you stare up at him helplessly, completely surrendered to him. he was right and you knew it. you’d always give it up to him.

chris reaches his hand for yours and untangles it from your bed sheets, pressing it into the pillow next to your head as he laces your fingers together, holding you tightly as he starts to fuck into you slowly.

“i’m not going anywhere. i’m right where i belong, buried inside this pussy made for me, ruining you for anybody else.” he’s babbling mindlessly as his hips rock back and forth, your slick walls dragging obscenely over his length.

chris leans down and presses his lips to your jaw again, kissing your skin as he continued to whisper in your ear. “you want me to stay, don’t you? keep making you feel like this? i’m right here, baby, you can’t get rid of me. i’ll say whatever you wanna hear just so i can keep tasting you, keeping fucking you like you need me to so bad.”

tears prick at the corners of your eyes as he speaks, his words soft but harsh at the same time, his fingers interlocked with yours overwhelming your senses. you were so close to having the relationship you wanted with him, but it felt so out of reach. you just needed him to be vulnerable and trust you.

chris pulls back and looks down at you, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek, fingers still slick with your arousal, the scent filling your nostrils as you sucked in a deep breath. “you look so fucking pretty when you cry,” he taunts, thumb brushing over your skin as a tear slips out. “just give me time, yeah? you know that’s all i need. you know exactly who i belong to.”

he emphasizes his sentence with a sharp thrust and the gasp that leaves your lips is all he needs for a switch to be flipped, his movements changing from soft and gentle to rough and fast, hips snapping in and out of you as he chased his orgasm now.

“come on, beautiful, give me another one before i show you who this pussy really belongs to.”

you’re completely at his mercy when his fingers work on your clit again, another orgasm cascading over you and triggering chris’s, a loud moan ripping out of him as he spills deep inside you, filling you up like he always does.

you lay there for a few moments, chest heaving as you come down, your hand still wrapped tight around chris’s as he does the same, his face dropping into your neck.

“still want me to go?” he asks, voice muffled by your skin and you can’t help but laugh breathlessly, your other hand coming up to smack the back of his head.

“shut the fuck up.”

a/n: yall fed??? or u need more. lmk. (i already know the answer)

[traumaone]

Mature

pairing: Michael Robinavitch x Senior Resident!Reader

wordcount: 2k

warnings: angst, reader is purposefully petty, mentions of robby being an asshole, age gap, mentions of injury (care pile up, car crash), mentions of death

synopsis: Robby's POV of my fic Immature

note: Did somebody say Robby's POV??? (it was me, I said it). i'm probably going to come back and edit this a bit in the morning.

!! not proofread so apologies for any mistakes !!

I’m your attending, and you’re my resident. Act like it.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

He’d been harsh, way too harsh. You made a difficult choice, chose to do a procedure you weren’t confident about in the interest of saving lives, and he’d torn you apart for it.

None of what he’d said was true; you didn’t lack discipline, you respected the chain of command, and respected him even more. He’d even taken a shot at Jack during his little spiel. 

The weight of his mistake had set in when he’d seen the tears threatening to spill, when you, so endlessly confident and sure of yourself, had refused to meet his eyes.

You’d bit back, put him in his place the way he deserved. He’d seen that kind of fire from you before, just never directed at him.

Robby watched you leave the hospital without even saying goodbye.

He calls a therapist after his shift, not his therapist, a therapist. It feels too real to sit down in an office, to let them open a file with his name on it, so he sticks to the phone, doesn’t even have the man named as a doctor in his phone.

He talks about you the entire appointment.

Day One

Robby texts you before he even gets out of bed.

He checks his phone while he’s making coffee, and finds no response from you.

He checks again before he showers, no response. 

And after he showers, still no response.

He leaves his apartment under the hopeful assumption that you’ll be waiting for him when he gets there, and you are. You’re pacing back and forth like a crazy person, but there none the less.

He smiles when he catches your eye, but the frown carved into your face stays.

“Do you need something, Dr. Robinavitch?” Ouch. That’s the tone you use with Gloria.

“I owe you an apology.” He’s starting to wilt under your frown.

“Yes, you do.”

“Tensions were high, I was struggling to keep it together, and I took it out on you. It was completely unfair, and I’m sorry.” He could say more, he could confess to you the millions of thoughts of guilt that had plagued him in his sleep, but it’s early, and you already seem tired of him.

“Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it.” He knows from your tone that you don’t. “I guess I’ll see you inside.”

Robby watches you turn heel and walk away from him as casually as you would any stranger.

Robby trails after you, hoping that you’ll turn around for just a second, but you don’t.

He needs to earn your forgiveness, he knows that now. He pushed you too far, poked the bear too hard while knowing he’d get bit, and boy does that bite sting.

Day Three

Robby leaves his apartment twenty minutes early and takes a detour to stop by your favourite cafe.

He orders his coffee black, and yours with two creams and two sugars, the same way you’ve been drinking it since he met you.

There's a bit more of a pep in his step today. He knows that one coffee isn’t a fix all, but you’d actually spoken more than a few words at a time to him yesterday, so he thinks it’s a good step.

You’re already tucked behind your desk when he comes through the door, frowning at your computer as if it’s wronged you in some way. Something about the sight makes his chest ache.

“Abbot told me you came in early this morning, figured you didn’t have time for a coffee.” He’s lying through his teeth. He knows you never drink coffee before noon, it makes your hands shake.

You don’t even look at him, or reach for the coffee 

“Thank you, Dr. Robinavitch.” He’s heard you sound warmer with Garcia.

That ache from before only deepens. 

He nudges your chair with his foot, pushing you away from his desk so he can slip between your knees. It’s the closest he’s been to you in days, and the proximity, the lingering smell of your shampoo, is enough to make him feel weak in the knees.

“What can I do to earn your forgiveness?” It’s earnest, genuine, the most vulnerable he’s been in a while, and you dismiss him immediately. 

“You’re forgiven. I’m just working on my ‘respect problem’ you had so much to say about.”

You reach past him for your coffee, and Robby has to fight the urge to lean into the warmth radiating from your skin.

“Buttercup, I-”

The nickname slips out before he can correct himself.

Abbot had come up with years ago when you were new to your residency. The three of you had been sitting around a table in the staff lounge, eating breakfast in silence after a particularly long night shift. 

You were Abbot’s resident, almost a stranger to him, but you were sweet, incredible at your job, and you put an obscene amount of butter on the blueberry muffin you were eating, enough to show teeth marks. Abbot had laughed, cracked a joke about having to give you a stent some day, and from then on, you were buttercup.

“It’s Doctor,” You’re standing so close now Robby can smell the mint on your breath. “or my first name, or nothing. Respect goes both ways”

You’ve turned into a spitfire within a matter of seconds, and Robby loves it. He hates that you’re mad at him, really, he does, but this is a side of you he never sees, and the anger looks good on you, very good.

“Pull it together, you two.” Dana’s voice almost makes him flinch. “Incoming trauma, two minutes out.”

“On it.” Robby abandons his reconciliation plan. He doesn’t want your annoyance directed at him, but at least you’re talking. “Buttercup’s leading.”

You stomp away like a petulant child.

“Am I actually leading this, or are you going to take over the minute the patient comes through?”

“Oh, this is all you.” Robby reaches for the ties on the back of your gown, he’s not as gentle as he should be, but he can’t help but let his fingers brush against the nape of your neck when you pull away. “I’m not even gloving up.”

“Let's see how long that lasts.”

Robby stands vigilant at the trauma bay doors, eyes fixated on you and only you. You’re brilliant when you work, you always have been. It’s what he imagines watching daVinci paint the Mona Lisa would be like. 

When you stabilize the patient, faster than Robby knows he could’ve, you turn to him, a fox-like smile painted on your lips. “See how incredible I am when I’m not being pestered by questions?”

You’ve never looked sexier.

“Believe me, I’m well aware of how incredible you are.”

Day Five

“I’m covering Parker on the night shift for the next couple days.”

The two of you had been surprisingly civil yesterday, so of course you’re switching shifts.

“And who’s going to be covering you?” You don’t need to be covered, but he wants to know what you’ll say.

“You have Langdon, Collins, Mckay, and Mohan, not to mention King, Santos, Javadi, and Whitaker. You don’t need me here.”

“Sure, but I want you here.” He wants you here more than anybody, even Dana.

You fix him with a frown. “No you don’t. I’m not being nice to you this week.”

“No, you’re not,” He almost wants to laugh. “But that doesn’t mean I want you gone.”

“I appreciate that,” It’s the most sincere he’s heard you sound all week. “But I want to be gone for a little bit.”

“If Abbot were here he’d be telling us to talk out our problems.”

You laugh, and that ache in his chest returns.

“Then let’s be glad he’s not.”

Day Seven

Robby has a routine for Sundays; work his shift, say goodbye to you, stay a little late so he can talk to Abbot, walk to his favourite cafe, enjoy a cup of tea and watch the world pass by through the window.

He hasn’t deviated from it in years, but things are different today. 

He doesn’t know if you’re still upset with him, opposite shifts have kept the two of you from having a conversation that’s longer than a few words and related to anything other than work, but that doesn’t change that tomorrow is the anniversary of your arrival to the ED.

It’s silly of him, but he wants to commemorate it somehow, which is how he finds himself in a flower shop ten minutes before close, staring cluelessly at a fridge full of flowers while his nose starts to run. He settles on a multi coloured bouquet of hyacinths, both the flower of forgiveness, and your favourite. 

He tucks the bouquet away in a vase on his counter, and falls asleep thinking about your smile.

Night Seven

Robby wakes to nine missed calls, five from you, three from Dana, and one from Abbot.

He gathers from your messages that there was an accident, a bad one that has quickly overwhelmed the ER. He doesn’t hesitate to grab his things and flee from his apartment, not even bothering to lock his door behind him.

You were on the verge of tears by your last voicemail, and Robby just can’t grasp why. 

He makes it to the hospital in record time, and you’re the first thing he spots, standing in the same spot you’d been waiting for him a week ago. You’re standing eerily still, eyes focused on your phone, but you look okay, untouched.

“Did you guys get everything handled, or do you still need help in there?”  

It’s an attempt at playfulness, at easing the tension that had no doubt formed during his absence, but it doesn’t work, because the moment he sees his presence register on your face, you crumble.

Sobs tear from your throat with a sound that makes Robby’s heart shatter. 

He pulls you to his chest as quickly as he can, nuzzling his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he feels your tears hit his neck. You’re shaking in his arms and he grips you tighter, hoping to compress your nervous system, but it only makes you worse.

“Shh, it's okay.” You only sob harder. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“I thought you were dead.” Your voice sounds so small, almost broken.

Robby freezes. “Why would I be dead?”

“The transport crashed through the cafe you go to every Sunday, and you weren’t answering your phone. I thought you were going to die thinking I was mad at you.”

Suddenly it all pieces together. “Oh… Oh, I'm so sorry.”

He buries a hand in your hair, presses a kiss to your head and the sobs begin all over again.

It shakes him to his core. You’ve always been a force to be reckoned with, stronger than any of them by a long shot, but right now, you’re fractured, broken into pieces right between his arms.

You pull away eventually, and Robby misses the feeling of you in his arms instantly. “You have nothing to apologise for, I was being ridiculous.”

“That’s not ridiculous, I would’ve gone down the same road.” It’s true, painfully true.

You lift your eyes to look at him and Robby feels his heart break all over again. Even with tears streaming down your cheeks, your hair mussed, and your nose starting to run a bit, you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m sorry.”

Robby smiles. “I know.”

“Everything’s mostly handled inside, we just have to get our shit together and prepare for the rest of the night.” You seem awkward now, unsure.

“I’ll come inside and help.” He’s not ready to be away from you yet.

“You don’t need to.” He knows you don’t mean it.

“I know,” He brushes the tears from your cheek, smiling again when you lean into his palm. “But I want to.”

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Stay Stay Stay Pairing - Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary - Until you met Tyler, you'd only had shitty boyfriends who would leave at the first sign of trouble or when you started to get too attached. Tyler Owens however is there to show you that he's in it for the long run, even when he finds out you're pregnant with his child. Word Count - 4.5k Warnings - Pregnant Reader, but this is just 4k words of pure fluff based on Taylor Swift's Stay Stay Stay ngl.

You woke up feeling miserable. You had barely gotten any sleep, staying up most of the night crying, and all you could think about was how stupid the fight you and Tyler had seemed now. You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and shot up when you realized how late it was. Tyler might have already gone, and now you wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry you were. The fear of that gripping your chest had you rolling out of bed and out the door. What you saw in the hallway however, had you stopping in your tracks. 

 As soon as you shut the door behind you, Tyler jolted awake from his spot on the floor, rubbing his eyes. He was still in his clothes from last night, the button up and jeans, complete with cowboy boots. “You stayed out here all night?” You asked, emotion tight in your throat. 

Tyler looked up at you, brushing his hair back from his face. “Of course I did. Didn’t know if you might need me or not after those nightmares you’ve been having.” 

“But - but I threw something-”

“Your phone.” He informed you. 

Heat rushed to your face in embarrassment. “-My phone at you.” 

“I don’t know if I’d really say ‘at me’. If so, your aim was pretty off for someone who used to play baseball.” He said, and he started to move so he could stand up. 

Before he could though, you bent down and scrambled into his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him as the tears fell down your cheeks. 

He let out a surprised grunt, but put his arms around you as well. “To be honest, not the greeting I was expecting this morning.” He said in a strained voice, probably because you were squeezing him so tight. 

“I thought you left already, and I didn’t want you to leave mad at me, because if something happened to you out there. . .” You wondered if he could even understand you with the way your tears messed with your breathing, but you had to tell him. The thought of him leaving while the two of you were mad at each other made you feel sick. 

“Hey,” Tyler started running a hand through your hair, the comfort of the motion easing into you. “I wasn’t about to leave without talking to you. I told them I’d catch up.” You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against the side of your head. “And you know I can’t leave without my good luck kiss.” 

You pulled back so you could look at him when you said this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad. I’ve just been all over the place lately, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m mad one second, the next I’m sobbing, then I can’t keep my eyes open, and the next second I feel like I’m going to die if I’m not jumping your bones-”

Tyler reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumb. “That one’s my favorite.” He said with a smirk. 

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I think I’m going crazy.” 

“Baby, you chase tornados in your spare time. Pretty sure by most people’s standards you are crazy,” he said, putting some hair behind your ear. 

You shook your head, and playfully smacked him in the chest. “I’m serious. I mean I know I get a little crazy around-” the thought hit you like a freight train. “Tyler, what’s today?” 

His brow furrowed, his smirk turning into a frown. “Sunday . . .”

“No! I mean what day of the month?” Were the calculations you were doing in your head right? Had the time passed that quickly? 

“It’s the 11th. Why?” 

Oh god. You gripped his face in your hands. “Ty, I’m late.” 

Tyler squinted at you. “Did you have somewhere to go . . . ?” 

You shook your head, your eyes wide with panic. “No, Tyler. I’m late.” You grabbed one of his arms and put his hand on your stomach, giving him a significant look. 

It was funny, how you could almost see the gears moving in his mind. It was like when he was trying to decide what storm to chase. You could tell the exact moments your words and actions landed. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at your stomach, then you. “You’re late . . . For that?” 

You nodded, watching his face for his reaction. It was an accident of course. The two of you tried to be careful, but one night a couple of months ago after an insane chase . . . The adrenaline got the better of both of you. While you had known you could get pregnant, you thought the chances of it happening the one time you didn’t use protection couldn’t be that high. Well, the universe might be proving you wrong. You weren’t sure how you felt about the possibility, but you were damn sure terrified of what Tyler might be thinking. 

You didn’t need to be. 

A slow grin started to spread on his face, and within seconds you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder and into the air. 

Letting out a little shriek, you grabbed a hold of his shirt. “Tyler! Put me down!” 

“Can’t! Got to go buy a pregnancy test.” He said, giving you a smack on the ass that made you squeal again. 

“We can’t! I’m not wearing pants!” 

“You don’t need pants to take a pregnancy test!” He said. 

A laugh left your lips at that, but then you smacked his back to get his attention. “Ty, what about the crew? They’re waiting on you. I can take the test, and call you-”

He put you down then, his hands holding your face and making you look at him. “If you think there is anything more important to me right now than this, you’re wrong.”  

It almost embarrassed you that you had thought for even a second any different. “I might not be, you know? I could actually be losing my mind.” 

Tyler shrugged. “Either way, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here with you.” He said, sliding his hands down to grab your own, then leaned forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had in your life, all gentle and tender, enough to almost bring tears back to your eyes. “Now, there’s my good luck kiss.” He said once he pulled away. 

“And what do you need good luck for, huh Owens?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 

He smirked at you. “I’ll tell you later.” 

And he did. In about five months after he shot fireworks up in a tornado to reveal you were having a boy, just like he wanted. 

————————

“Ty! I can pick up potatoes. I’m barely showing.” You said, shaking your head at him as he dived in front of you to get the sack of potatoes before you could. 

He put them in the grocery cart, leaning over it and crossing his arms. “See, I know that, but the gentleman in me won’t let the woman carrying my son do something as lowly as pick up potatoes.” 

You rolled your eyes. It was sweet, but you knew it was also going to drive you crazy. “If you don’t let me do some things I might murder you in your sleep. I hope you know that.” 

Tyler raised his eyebrows at you, pretending to look confused. “Then who would reach all the stuff on the top shelf?” He asked, his expression morphing into a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I guess I’ll have to find another tall, handsome cowboy. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You teased, and then grabbed the cart, pushing it past him. 

He stopped you, grabbing you around the waist, holding you back against his chest and pressing a kiss against your neck. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m very hard to replace.” He murmured against your skin. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, elbowing him in the side. “All right cowboy, if you’re going to not let me pick anything up heavier than three pounds, go do me a favor and get the water. Lily said you guys are running low, and the weather conditions for the weekend look rough.” 

Tyler pressed another kiss against your neck, and then let you go. “Whatever you say ma’am.” 

You watched him walk away, a sight you always enjoyed in those jeans, then hurried up to get as many of your groceries as you could before Tyler came back to not let you do anything again. 

“Well, look who it is.” 

Oh god, you knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years now, and one you hoped never to hear again. You almost didn’t want to turn around so you could pretend it wasn’t there, but you knew this person wasn’t going to allow that to happen. It would hurt his ego too much. Turning around, you let out a sigh at the familiar face. “Hey, Charles.” 

Your ex was a dick. In fact almost all of your exes were dicks. Until you started dating Tyler, you hadn’t known what it was like to date someone that put you above themselves. Charles was no different. In fact, he was one of the worst, and the way he was looking at you right now made you want to throw up. Or maybe that was the morning sickness . . . 

“I’ve got to say,” he looked you up and down. “You’re looking good.” 

Nope, it wasn't morning sickness. “Thanks.” You replied, moving your cart so you could go around him. Hopefully you could make a quick escape and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. “It was good seeing you.” Lies. 

He grabbed the cart, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait a second. Don’t you think we should catch up some? I mean it’s been-”

“Five years.” You answered, your hands squeezing the handle of the cart. 

He smirked. “You kept track?” 

You wanted to smack that expression off his face, “to celebrate.” 

The nice facade faded upon your words. “You know, I thought maybe you’d changed over the years, but it seems like you’re still a-”

“Got the waters!” You breathed a quick little sigh of relief as Tyler came to a stop beside you, carrying not one, but two packs of water. He placed them in the cart, flipped his baseball cap around backwards, and put his hand on the small of your back. “Who’s this?” Tyler asked with his charming grin. 

You took a step closer to Tyler, not because you were scared of Charles, but because you liked the comfort of his presence. Something you never felt with the douche in front of you now. “You remember me telling you about Charles? This is him.” 

To Charles, Tyler showed no response to the name, but you felt the hand on your back press a little harder against your skin. Tyler turned to look at you, and there was a little glimmer in his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t actually. Are you sure you’ve mentioned someone named Charles before?” 

You had to bite back a smirk once you realized what he was up to. “Yeah, I think so.” You played along. 

“Hmmm, I must not have thought it was that important. Anyway, Tyler Owens.” He held out his hand to Charles, and you watched Charles’s face with delight. Not only had Tyler made him feel unimportant, something you knew from experience he couldn’t stand, but Tyler was . . . a big man. At least a foot taller than Charles, and more muscles on him than this guy could ever hope to have. You didn’t however expect the look of disbelief that crossed his face. 

“Tyler Owens? The tornado wrangler?” He asked, almost too shocked to shake his hand, but then he collected himself and reached for Tyler’s. 

“The very same.” He said. “Though I’ve got to say, I think my favorite title is her future husband.” He said, nodding his head back to you. 

Heat flushed straight to your face at the bold statement. Tyler and you hadn’t talked much about marriage. You had thought that might be the logical next step, but you also didn’t want to bring it up if it scared him away. With past boyfriends, including the one in front of you, it always had. You should’ve known by now though that Tyler was nothing like that. You leaned into him more now, smiling as his arm went around you and his hand rested on your stomach. 

“Her future-” Charles looked dumbfounded, and you also didn’t miss the wince when Tyler shook his hand probably more roughly than necessary. 

“Got to lock her down, you know? Plenty of other idiots have already let her go. I’m not going to make the same mistake.” Tyler replied, giving you a smile full of mischief. 

You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your stomach. “Ty, I’m having your baby. I don’t think you have to worry about that.” You assured him, your smile widening as he kissed your cheek. 

“You’re - you’re pregnant?” 

You’d almost forgotten Charles was there with Tyler’s sudden proclamation, but his words pulled your attention back to him. Turning to the side, you let him see the slight curve to your stomach. “Yep. Four months to go before we meet our baby boy.” 

As soon as you said the words, Tyler’s face lit up with genuine excitement like it always did. “I can’t wait.” He turned back to Charles, putting both of his arms around you protectively now. “How do you two know each other again?” Tyler asked, and once again you had to fight back a laugh. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, looking back up at Tyler with a soft smile. “We need to be getting out of here anyway right babe?” 

“Yes ma’am. Well, it was nice to meet you, Chuck.” Tyler said, stepping back from you so he could grab a hold of the cart with one hand, taking your hand in the other. 

You couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore at that point, entwining your fingers together as you followed him to the register, leaving Charles standing dumbfounded in your wake. 

________________

It was the thing you had been the most scared of happening. You had no one else to blame other than yourself though. You were the one who had insisted that Tyler go on the chase. It was supposed to be a large storm, and you reminded him that it was the last one he’d probably go on for a while since the season was ending, as was your pregnancy. You had faith that he would be careful, knowing that he wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger him from meeting his son. 

What you hadn’t expected however, was your water to break three weeks early. 

It was safe to say you were panicking when you called your sister to come get you, and by the time they wheeled you back to your room, you were close to a full blown meltdown. “I can’t do this without him.” You told her, holding your stomach as if that could keep him in, tears streaming down your face. “And he’s at least five hours away! What if I don’t have that long?!”

Your sister, who was more calm than you, grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “He will make it, I’m sure. You’ve texted him right?” 

You bit your lip, and when your sister gave you a look, you blurted. “I didn’t want to ruin his chase! I thought I’d wait to see if the doctor was even going to take me!” 

“Oh my god.” She reached into your bag and grabbed your phone. You held out your hand for it, but she was already texting away. “There, done.” 

“What did you say?” 

But she didn’t answer, instead she waited about ten seconds and said, “he said he’s on his way.” 

You nodded, watching as she put your phone back in your purse. God you hoped he was going to make it. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying. You were already scared enough that something was wrong because of how early he was. Having to have this baby without Tyler by your side, reassuring you the whole way, seemed impossible. 

A few minutes later, while you were lost in your thoughts, the door to your room opened and a nurse walked in. “Hey, honey, how’re we doing?” 

“She’s panicking.” Your sister replied for you. 

You glared at her. “My boyfriend, he’s - he’s not going to be able to get here for a few hours, do you think I have that long?” 

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well that’s according to him I’d say, because I speak from experience when I say babies don’t wait for no one.” She said. 

Oh god, he wasn’t going to make it. You just knew it. He wasn’t going to make it in time, and you would have to try and do this without him, and you didn’t think that you could. You needed him. You needed him so badly it added to the pain you were already in, and the worst part was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t forced him to go on that chase - 

“I’m here, I’m here!” 

To your complete and utter shock, Tyler came sliding into your room, taking his cowboy hat off and hurrying to your side. 

“Ty?” Was all you could think to say.

“Did I miss anything?” Tyler asked, taking your hand in his own and looking at your nurse. 

“Dad, I assume?” The nurse said with a smile. 

Tyler beamed at the use of the word. “About to be.” 

“In that case, you haven’t missed a thing yet. We’re about to take some vitals and get this show on the road.” She informed him. “Glad you could make it.” She said, and left your room. Your sister, sensing the two of you needed some alone time, followed close behind. 

Once they had both left, your thoughts caught up to your brain, and you squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Tyler Owens, I’ve never been more happy to see you in my entire life, but how the hell did you get here so fast?” 

He gave you an affectionate smile, and reached up to wipe away the tears you didn’t even know you’d still been crying. “Yeah, so about that chase . . . I never went.” 

“You - you what?” 

He started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You were less than a month away from having our son. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t go, but I also knew if something happened while I was away . . . You’d blame yourself too. So I just . . . stayed at a hotel the past couple of nights.” 

You couldn’t even be mad. He knew you too well, and the relief you felt that he was here to help you was too much to be upset. “I was so scared you were going to miss it.” 

“Not for the largest tornado in the world baby.” Tyler said, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. “You ready to do this?” He asked as they started wheeling in the equipment. 

Not five minutes ago you were horrified. The effect of Tyler’s presence on your emotions was remarkable. With him by your side, you had no doubts that you could do this. You could have this baby. “Now that you’re here? Definitely.” 

Tyler leaned forward to give you the last kiss the two of you would have before you were parents, the smile on his lips unmistakable. 

————————

“He looks so much like you it’s like you birthed him.” You said with a tired laugh. It was god knows how many hours later, you had never been more tired in your life, and somehow you and Tyler had squeezed into your tiny hospital bed. You were leaning against his shoulder, eyes glued to the baby he held in his arms that was looking up at you both curiously. 

“Not completely. I know that nose anywhere.” He said, gently tapping your son in the nose. Then, for the first time since his son had been placed in his arms, he looked at you, the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes. “He’s perfect.” 

You knew that you were already emotional. You were exhausted, overwhelmed and a million other things at once, but the way Tyler was looking at your son, then at you? Your whole body seemed to light up with warmth. It was love all over his face, pure, intense love, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget what it looked like again. You felt too choked up to speak, so you slipped your arm through his to curl your hand around his bicep, and turned your head to kiss his shoulder. 

A smile formed on your face as Tyler looked back at your son, that adoring expression not fading for a second. “This is the best day of my life so far.” 

“So far?” You said curiously. 

“Well, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.” He replied, grinning over at you. 

Your smile widened, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Ty, you haven’t asked.” 

“I haven’t?” Tyler said, pretending to look confused. “It’s a great proposal. You’ll just have to wait and see.” 

You rolled your eyes, but the thought of Tyler proposing to you made you feel giddy. “Does it involve fireworks in a tornado?” You teased. 

He shook his head. “Nah, been there, done that. Boone would love it though.” Tyler shifted your son, who cuddled right against his chest. “By the way, the crew’s waiting outside with your sister.” 

You sat further up, wincing when you moved too quickly. “Jeez Tyler, how long have they been out there?” 

“Since they dropped me off.” He admitted. 

“You mean none of them went on the chase either?” You said in shock. 

Tyler shook his head again, “They said this was going to be better than any tornado.” 

Your throat clogged with emotion again, and you really hoped this crying at the drop of a hat wasn’t going to last long. “Go get them! They deserve to see him!” 

He reached up, brushing a tear away from your face. “Are you sure? I know how tired you are, and I can tell them to come back tomorrow.” 

“I can sleep when they’re gone. Right now I want them to see what they gave up a chase for.” You said, holding out your arms for the baby. 

Tyler leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing your son over as gently as if he was made of glass. You smiled as he snuggled right up to your chest, and knew that there was no better feeling in the world than this right here. When you looked up, Tyler was staring at the two of you as if he was trying to memorize this moment. “I love you.” He said finally. 

You felt like you could float at that moment, so light and loved. “We love you too.” You told him, and the softest smile formed on his face. “Go,” you told him before you started crying again. “We’re not going anywhere.” You joked. 

“You better not.” He played along, giving you a mock stern look, and then he went outside the door. 

Not ten seconds later you heard a cheer from outside your door, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. Of course, they were shushed by nurses, and then Tyler brought them all in. 

You smiled at them as your sister, Lily, Boone, Dex and Dani’s eyes all went straight to the baby in your arms. Lily, Dani, your sister and Dex rushed forward to get a better look and started cooing over him, the biggest smiles on their faces while Boone hung back, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe the baby was a real thing.

“We got you guys something.” Dex said, holding up some familiar looking material as Tyler got back into the bed with you. He handed him the shirts, and Tyler unfolded them, letting out a laugh before showing them to you. It was similar to the normal shirts, but instead of Tyler’s face, it was a baby with a cowboy hat. That would have been hilarious enough, but instead of saying, “not my first tornadeo” it said, “this is my first babeo.” 

“Oh my god, it’s so cheesy. I love it.” You said with a laugh yourself. 

“We also got little man . . .” Dani held up a little onesie that said, “mini wrangler” on it with their tornado logo. 

You grinned, looking down at the bundle of cuteness in your arms. “It’s perfect.” You said, turning your smile to them. “Thank you guys for bringing Ty by the way, and staying. I would have understood if you all went on the chase.” 

“Are you crazy? We weren’t going to miss this.” Lily said, giving your son a little wave. 

Your eyes went over to Boone though, still standing back a little ways. The man who had gone into tornados and helped shoot fireworks and rockets up into them was looking at the baby in your arms like it was a bomb. “Hey Boone, you want to hold him?” You asked. 

“Oh, I don’t - I wouldn’t even know how-”

But Dani was already pushing him towards you. “It’s all right Boone, you got this.” You reassured him, sitting up a little more to hand him your son. 

“Make sure you get the back of his head.” Tyler said, watching with the eyes of a hawk as you gently placed him in Boone’s arms. 

“Woah.” Boone said, as he looked down at him. 

Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and now that your arms were free, you curled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach. 

“T, man! He looks just like you!” Boone said, and you smiled at the excitement in his voice. 

“Except for the nose.” Tyler said, and you found your eyes closing as Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

He was so comfortable, and you were so tired. You felt yourself starting to drift off as his thumb brushed up and down your shoulder. It was hard not to when you felt so safe and loved, surrounded by your family, your new baby and the love of your life. 

Tyler could sense it, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You want me to kick them out?” 

You shook your head, tightening your grip on him. “They can stay.” You murmured, nuzzling into him. “Make sure Boone doesn’t get too excited and drop our baby.” You joked. 

“Yes ma’am.” Tyler responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer. “You go ahead and rest. I'll be here when you wake up.” 

“I know.” You mumbled sleepily with a soft smile. “You always stay.”

[emmyrosee]

“Hey.”

“Hi?”

This is the first time in four weeks you’ve answered his phone call. He never thought he’d be the one to break no contact first.

Sukuna tried, god he’s tried so hard to keep no contact, but there’s something about your saccharine voice that lures him back like a siren. He can’t get enough of it, and the lack of it in his life drove him crazy.

What you don’t know, is how often he clicks on your contact, how many times a day he dials your number, how much his fingers long to text you.

Even if after four weeks, he’s gone without it.

It’s hitting the call button that he hasn’t done. Until tonight, of course.

His mind scrambles to find an excuse for calling you, jaw opening and closing like a fish, and eyes darting around, even if you don’t see it. His gaze falls onto his sleeping dog, and he sinks his teeth into his lip.

“I just wanted to let you know, I finally got Titan to do that trick. You know-“

“Wow. Thanks for letting me know,” you say sarcastically. “Are we done here?”

“Yeah,” he says, gnawing at the tip of his thumb. “Yeah. Sorry to bug you. I just… thought you’d like to know.”

But neither of you make a move to hang up. He was positive you would immediately, sick of his voice and his attitude, but you don’t. Maybe you needed this as much as he does.

“No,” he finally croaks. “No okay? I’m not done. I fucking miss you.”

“Sukuna, stop-“

“No, you stop,” he snaps, voice tight with emotion. “Because if this is the last time we talk, you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to listen good.”

You go silent. He hears you breathing, and you don’t make any noise to indicate you’re going to hang up. He lets you sit there, pondering, he wants to leave the ball in your court, even if ending the call is his worst nightmare right now.

“Speak.”

He shudders at the coldness in your voice, he rolls his shoulders and slumps back.

“You… are all that I think about,” he says firmly. “You and I, we are golden. I can’t imagine my life with someone else, I fucking hate to, there’s no one for me but you, and the fucking fact that I have to wake up to a cold bed because of something I did, is something I hate.

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much, I miss your voice and your laugh and your eyes. I miss your cold hands sneaking under my shirt, and I miss the way you fit against me when we cuddled. I miss you so fucking much, I hate this, I hate it so fucking much, and if I could fix it I would, I want to, please let me fix it-“

“You can’t.”

You shut him up.

“There is no fixing it, sukuna. You broke that trust, shattered it. You think I don’t miss you? You’re crazy.”

He calls your bluff, “you’re full of it. You want to get back together so bad it makes you sick. I know it does, I know you.”

“And how exactly have you come to that conclusion?” You scoff.

“Because you picked up the phone.”

You’re silent at that. He sinks his teeth into his lip, “you’d never answer the phone on someone you want out of your life. You’ve ignored people for less, you don’t fool me for one second.”

You’re still silent. He hears you breathing, as if waiting for him to keep going, read you like a book and prove you wrong.

He rests his head on the wall and shakily calls out your name, letting the vowels feel foreign on his tongue from lack of use. Pet names became so popular, his mouth almost forgot how to say your name. “I can fix this, if you’ll let me. I fucked up. But I know I can fix this.”

“You can’t fix shit,” you scoff. “You would’ve never let it get so bad in the first place if you cared.”

“I couldn’t fix what had already been destroyed,” he snaps. “But we know where we went wrong. We knew what went right. We can do this, do not send me away.”

There’s hesitation on your end. He feels it, he feels your reserve crumbling as he speaks.

“Please… don’t send me away,” he whispers.

You sigh. He sucks in a breath in preparation.

“I miss Titan,” you confess. “If we’re going to talk, we’re doing it at your place, so I can see your dog.”

He smirks.

“And I make no promises,” you hiss. “You don’t get the satisfaction of thinking we’re automatically getting back together because I don’t want to do this over the phone. We’re not. Not yet. Not now. But this isn’t a conversation to not do face to face.”

He closes his eyes and lets his body relax.

“It’s a date.”

“Don’t call it a date.”

[chaoticwriting]

One's man trash is another man's treasure

Run

Run

Run

His little legs swing as fast as he can. Escape is all his choice left. As incompetent as he is, he is very good at escaping. However, they don't need an escaper. What they need a warrior. And he is not one.

So he run. The league wishes to kill him. His grandfather Ra's sees him nothing as a lesser being. Even his mother Talia despises him. He has no one else here. He needs to be gone while they are focusing on the newest recruit.

So he run. And run. And run. He doesn't know how long has he been running. He only stops at the end of the day to sleep for an hour and drink some water. He is not a good fighter. Mainly because he isn't capable of killing. But his physical abilities are beyond what any of peers have.

He doesn't know where he is now. All he could see is towering building that pierce the sky. People in weird clothing, walking fastly along the road. And a huge fountain.

Water!

Rushing to it, he jumps straight into the water. He could feel the gazes coming at him but the feeling of the cool water is enough for him to ignore them for now.

???: Hey, you!

He turns around at the voice and sees a girl that's a little older than him standing there with her hands and her hips. English

????: Yes, you. You can't bath there. And you can't drink from that fountain.

?????: Why?

????: Because it's dirty. And it's not good. You should take a bath at home.

?????: I don't have a home.

????: What? What about parents?

?????: My mother hates me.

????: Oh! Errrm, would you like to come with us then?

?????: *Vigilant* To where?

????: To our hotel room. My mom and dad are out searching for ghost. So you can come use our shower. We even has food.

?????: No thanks. I'm not hungry *grrrrr*

????: Well, your stomach disagree. C'mon. I will make sure you eat the best food you will ever eat.

As the girl drags his wet body and clothes away, he wonders what is wrong with this girl. He will sneak out after he finish eating and showering.

?????: I'm Danyal

????:Hey Danny, I'm Jazz.

Danny: Danyal. Not Danny.

Jazz: Wasn't that what I say?

Danny: *Gives up* Whatever.

----15 years later----

Danny: Yeah, mom. I'm right in front of Gotham U right now. Ehhh, it's okay but it gives off serious haunted vibe. No. There is no ghost here. I will deal with the ghost here if there is any. I know. I will say hi to Jazz for you. Bye, mom. Love you too dad.

Danny enters Gotham U and true to Sam's rambling, it has the 70s gothic vibe to it. Sam did try to attend here too but her parents make her go to Metropolis U while Tucker goes to Star U. It is kind of weird going to class without them but it is not something he can't do.

As he opens his enters his dormitory, a figure rushes down the hall and accidentally bumps into him. Thankfully, he is fairly strong and the impact isn't strong.

The guy apologizes and immediately disappears at the end of the hallway.

Danny: Huh, what a weirdo.

After he enters the dormitory, he settles down and goes on his day.

---Wayne Manor---

Duke: You wouldn't believe what I just see at Gotham U this morning.

Steph: What?

Duke: I met a guy that look almost identical to Damian. If Damian smiles and his skin a little lighter, that would have been him.

Tim: Are you sure? We could try to do a background check on him if you want?

Duke: Nah. It's probably just a coincidence. There is no way he is somewhat related to Dami.

Tim: Daniel James Fenton. Birth of origin: unknown. 18 years old. Male. Have 2 sisters, a brother and parents. Live in small rural town. The only significant thing about them is that his sister is working at Arkham Asylum and his parents is ghost hunters.

Duke: What the fuck?! How the fuck do you know who to find out?

Tim: *Imitating Batman's voice* I'm Batman.

Duke: Whatever. See! He really does look like Damian. I'm not crazy.

Steph: No one says you are, dude. Anyway, we should show this to Damian. Maybe he knows him?

Damian: What are you all imbeciles talking about?

Tim: Hey, Dami. Look at this guy. Does he looks familiar?

Damian: *Freezes*

Steph: Uh oh. That isn't a no.

Damian: Where do you find him, Drake? Tell me!

Tim: Woah, dude. Chill. Duke bumps into him at Gotham U. He is studying there for Aerospace engineering apparently.

Damian: I need to make a call.

As Damian walks away, all of them look at each other signifying their shared thoughts. Yeah, they are not gonna leave this alone.

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ Make U Love Me

logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutantfem!reader

♪ you’re tired of going places where you can’t scream and shout ♪

tags: featuring the biggest asshole, scott! cheating, a little angst, violence, mentions of blood and death, slight exhibitionism, kissing, edging, dom logan, sub reader, creampie, pregnancy, oral, multiple orgasms, falling in love, etc…

note: heavily inspired by robin thicke’s song with the same title. wc: 4.7k — put my heart into this.

you were scott’s girl. nothing more, nothing less.

it wasn’t what you thought it would be, well back then at least.

scott was loving when you two first started dating. he would take you out, treat you like a queen, and was very attentive. but, that all started to change when his first love died in the midst of battle. jean grey.

the day she died, is the day your relationship did too. that same guy you fell in love with, turned into the guy you hated. everything stopped. he was no longer the perfect boyfriend, he was more of a royal asshole.

he wouldn’t make love to you, he wouldn’t put you on missions with him and when you confronted him about the change—it would always end in a fight. you didn’t deserve this, you knew you didn’t. but, you couldn’t break up with him. that small piece of your heart wouldn’t allow you.

you knew there was a part of him that still loved you. well, you thought he did. that all changed when you and the crew got the news. jean was alive.

“i don’t want you going after her, scott! what’s so hard to understand about that?” you raised your voice, brushing past your boyfriend and putting the onions you just chopped into the hot skillet—continuing your recipe for tonight’s dinner.

when the professor told everyone that she was alive, scott’s ears perked up and practically begged the professor to let him be the one to go and find her. charles urged scott that it wasn’t a good idea. something could go wrong and she might no longer be the jean we all knew….she could be possessed by an evil force. the dark phoenix.

but, of course scott wasn’t trying to hear that. his mind was clouded with thoughts of the red head. he was still deeply in love with jean. just the thought of her had him going crazy. you knew it and it pissed you off, which brought upon the current argument you two were having now.

“what i don’t understand is why not? she’s one of us! i have to bring her back, with or without your permission!” you turned to him, eyes slowly turning into a deep red; the flames from the stove started to rise—searing the vegetables that sat in the iron pan.

scott started to slowly back up, swallowing thickly as you inched closer to him; afraid of what you might do next. he locked his visor onto the burning food, which he tried to pull your attention on to, but you didn’t budge. that is until you heard someone clearing their throat.

your eyes went back to its normal state and you calmed down once you took a look at logan, who stood there watching the whole ordeal. you looked back at the food and turned the stove off before looking back your boyfriend, “come back with her and see what happens, scott.”

———

you didn’t come out of your bedroom for dinner that night and neither did he. hell, you barely got any sleep last night—too busy tossing and turning in your bed, thinking about scott and jean together. and when you finally did get some sleep, the sun started to peak over the horizon—a beautiful hue of orange painting the sky.

when you finally woke up, you pulled yourself into a much needed hot shower, before putting on your favorite pair of flare jeans and a cute top paired with some leather boots—heading downstairs to see what was happening for today. the children passed by, running and walking to hangout after class, while you made your way down the wooden stairs—looking for your boyfriend.

you wanted to talk to him about yesterday, hopefully to make peace with what transpired—but it seems like he had other plans when you spotted him holding hands & walking with the newly resurrected jean. and to top it all off, he was wearing a big toothy smile like he was kid in a candy store. oh you were pissed.

they disappeared further into the mansion as you stormed downstairs—eyes darkening while you were hot on their tails, ready to confront them; that is until you were trapped between two big muscle bound arms. “let me go logan!” you tried to free yourself from his grasp, but there was no use. he wasn’t letting you go.

“need you to cool off. don’t need you to go all ‘flame on!’ on them today.” he chuckled and ushered you towards the front door, both of you going towards the academy’s garage and pulling off in his car.

you tossed back your shot of vodka, grimacing at the strong burning sensation, before tapping your glass for more. logan had took you to a bar, so you could drink to your hearts content and stop that flame from igniting within you.

“he’s a fucking asshole.” you spoke, downing your drink again then turning to look at the male sitting right next to you. he nodded in agreement and sipped on his whiskey, letting you vent to him.

“I feel like such an idiot, falling in love with someone who doesn’t love me.”

“his fault he couldn’t see what right in front of him.” you passed, wide eyed, looking at the side of his rugged face while he finished off his drink. what did he mean by that?

“pretty lil thing like you deserves to be treated like a princess, not by someone like him.” his compliment made you press your thighs together and shift in your seat.

“and who’s gonna treat me like one?” you hummed, placing your hand on his arm, pressing against him. it might been the liquid courage that had you feeling so bold, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

logan grunted and smirked, shaking his head before his pretty hazel eyes locked on yours, “careful, doll. don’t know what you might be getting yourself into.”

“maybe i do~” you flirted back, lips ghosting his ears, making goosebumps rise on his skin. you wanted him badly right now. you didn’t care that the two of you were out in a bar, it made no difference. you wanted to take him right here and now.

“let’s play some pool.” he got up from his seat and grabbed your hand, making you sigh in response. maybe you were getting ahead of yourself?

———

the two of you played pool for the next couple of hours. logan was surprised to see that you were really good at the game, even more shocked that you had him on a losing streak. “good thing you didn’t put money on it.” you teased, striking the 8ball into one of the holes, winning your fifth game for the night.

“would ask you to play another game, but it’s time we get back to the mansion. bar’s bout to close.” he pointed out and you took a look around, seeing only four patrons left and the bartenders cleaning their glasses. you pouted and racked the balls back into the middle of the table, before grabbing logan’s hands and leaving the bar.

the two of you stood outside of the car for a bit, logan puffing on his cigar while you enjoyed the night’s cool breeze—mind running rampant with what happened in the bar between you and him.

“lo—“ you began, making him turn his attention towards you—the sight of him blowing out smoke did something to you; everything about the male aroused you. why didn’t you see him like this before? maybe you would’ve been happier with him.

“can i kiss you?” you breathed out, stepping closer to him; body heat overpowering the crisp air outside. “doll….” he began, but you stopped him—not ready for him to reject your feelings just yet.

“I know you felt something in there with me. if i felt it, i know you did. so, kiss me. prove me wrong….” you pulled him by his flannel, eyes sparkling with hope and desire; as they flickered to his lips. he searched your face, before he flicked his cigar on the ground and pulled you in close—his lips melting on yours.

you wrapped your arms around his neck while his hands moved to the middle of your back, before falling to your ass—squeezing the plump flesh through your jeans. as much as he wanted to pull back, he didn’t—you were so addictive, he just had have all of you.

his tongue slipped into your mouth and he picked you up and placed you on the hood of the car—kiss becoming passionate by the moment. the taste of the cigar he just smoked and traces of his whiskey had your mind spinning, and your cunt throbbing. “logannn~”

“i know, princess. smelled how bad you wanted it inside of the bar.” he grunted and his thick fingers quickly unfastened your jean’s button, tugging them down slightly—before he slipped his hand into your pants, rubbing your throbbing clit through your yellow panties.

“shit you’re soaked. he’s never made you feel like this, right?” he grunted in your ear, pulling your panties to the side and finally connecting the tips of his fingers to your aching clit, rubbing it slowly.

“no never, he never made me wet like this—fuck—only you lo~” the sweet moan you let out drove him insane, it fueled him and he couldn’t help but to quicken his pace; making your back arch off the hood of the car. gasping, you reached down to hold onto his wrist, trying to stop his pleasurable torment—but it did nothing. he kept going, making you buck your hips up into his palm.

“so needy. summers is such an idiot for letting this go.” logan moves his fingers down to your sodden hole, palm pressing right down onto your clit, making your body jolt in response. despite the tight confinement of your pants, his hand was able to work wonders on your lower half—pumping in and out of your cunt.

you gushed over his fingers each time it hit your spot. the pressure that was building up in the pit of your tummy was becoming unbearable. you desperately needed to let go, show him how good he made you feel.

“gonna cum—all over your fingers!” you warned, eyes starting to roll back into your head as you felt that feeling you loved so much start to burst. that is, until he pulled his fingers away. your eyes shot opened and you watched him suck your juices off of his digits.

“gotta get you home, doll” he fastened your pants and helped you off the hood of the car; before going to the passenger side, opening the door for you. shooting daggers at him as you stomped your way to the car, you watched as he hopped in the driver seat—ignoring your stares.

you didn’t bother opening your mouth to speak either. too frustrated, tired and horny to talk. so, you opted to lay your head against the window and watched as the trees became blurred on the way back to the mansion.

as logan pulled the car up the school’s drive, you could see the resurrected red head and scott standing outside—their lips glued on one another. you shared a look with logan and shook your head. you didn’t have the energy anymore, it was obvious where his heart lied.

getting out of the car, the two pulled back once they noticed the both of you approaching—scott looking like he had seen a ghost. “baby! i-i—“

“go to hell scott” brushing past them, you slowly made your way to your room—logan a few feet behind. logan looked at scott and just shook his head. idiot.

he just planted you right into his hands, and boy was he going to keep you there.

———

the following weeks started to get better and better for you. getting closer to logan was the best thing to ever happen to you. the two of you would spend almost everyday together, most of the days ended with you finally getting to cum around his fingers and all over his face. you were happier, almost like you were in the beginning before scott ruined it. and he noticed it to.

but, you didn’t care what he thought about what you were doing. he ruined his chances of being happy with you ever again and he knew it.

currently you and logan were in an empty class room, with him between your plush thighs; working a third orgasm out of you for today. small hands were tangled in his soft brown locs—tugging them as you grinded your orgasm out on his face. logan pulled away once you calmed down, his beard and half of his face being covered in your slick—which he happily licked up; well what he could.

he helped you off the table and pulled your skirt up while peeling your cold wet panties off. “these? are for me,” you blushed, watching him put them in his pocket before pulling you close. his hands fell to your rear and those eyes that you loved to get lost in, stared right at you; before he pressed his lips against yours.

you melted in the kiss. your body relaxing as the two of you moved in sync, hands moving across each other’s bodies. ever since that day at the bar, you noticed a change in yourself. a change you slowly welcomed. love. you were falling deeply in love with the wolverine. it was different type of love you and scott had. this one felt like one of those love’s where you could see the two of you grow old and have a bunch of mutant babies.

you wanted to tell him how you felt, how he made you feel, but you were scared. scared that he might reject you. so, you opted for the latter. being his friend with benefits.

“logan, I wanna suck your dick~” you pulled back, eyes traveling down to his noticeable bulge, then back up at him.

“don’t wanna hurt you princess. plus ive got a class in fifteen minutes,” he warned and you smirked, slowly sinking down to your knees. “so? ill make you cum in ten~”.

the clinking sound of his belt being dropped to floor, along with his pants, filled the room. he watched with low eyes as you pulled his fully erect length out—cock twitching when he heard you gasp. you now understood why he never fucked you, he was way too big. there was no way your walls would survive that, right?

your mouth salivated at the sight and you could slowly feel yourself becoming even more aroused. gripping his cock and swiping your tongue over the tip, you moaned at the taste of his sweet precum, before you took him into your mouth. he tossed his head back, loving the feeling of your warm wet mouth around him, while you slowly started to take him even deeper.

his big hands practically flew to the back of your head when he felt you gag around him, once he hit the back of your mouth, slowly creeping into your throat.

“did you just cum? hm, princess?” he locked eyes with you, smelling the familiar scent of your arousal—knowing exactly how you smelled when you came.

you whimpered, still slobbering all over his cock before the grip on your head got tighter and he pressed your pretty little head down harder; nose nuzzled in his bush of brown hairs.

you gagged, but he didn’t give you time to adjust as he continued to repeat his actions—pulling you off of his cock by your hair before forcing you right back on; fucking your mouth to his liking. the more he moved the more arousing it became for the both of you, causing you to relax your throat, letting him fill it with his thick cock.

the sound of you gagging and sucking on his cock along with the smell of your cunt dripping with excitement, had the six foot two man going feral. his pretty eyes fluttered in the back of his head and he forcefully pushed your head deep in his bush— letting out one of the sexiest growls you ever heard as he poured thick ropes of cum down your throat.

the warm sensation had you dripping right onto the classroom’s wooden floors, moaning at his taste before you swallowed. his grip loosened and you pulled back, gasping for air.

“told ya i could make you cum~”

———

finding yourself back into your room, you were scared by the dark figure sitting on your bed; making you jump out of your clothes like a cartoon character. flickering on the light, scott sat on your bed wearing a plain look on his face.

“the hell you doing in my room, scott?” you kicked off your shoes, glaring at the brunette. he adjusted his visor before getting up, towering over you a bit.

“you and logan been really close lately. what’s up with that?” you stared at him before giggling. he wasn’t possibly serious? you ignored him and tried to move around him, only for him to grab you and pull you back.

“grab me again and that’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do. get out of my room and go be with jean. me and you are finished.” you stared into his ruby red colored visor, making sure he got the point. the mutant scoffed and shook his head, “fine. go be a whore for logan, sure he’d love that.”

you didn’t even give him time to react before sending a fire induced smack to his face, causing him to yell out from the painful sensation. he was quick to recover, ready to aim his optic lasers at you; until a fist came flying at him—knocking him to the ground. logan stood there for a minute, taking a look at you to make sure you were alright, before pouncing on scott.

you watched as logan nearly beat him bloody before stepping in, tugging on his black button up—begging him to stop. however, the raspy voice of the professor entered all of your minds, stopping everyone’s movements.

‘the dark phoenix has risen and attacked me. jean grey is no longer with us. teachers, meet me in the infirmary’

logan looked at you and grabbed scott, slinking him around his shoulders, “go meet me in the infirmary. im gonna take him to his room and have hank look after him.” you nodded and practically raced to the infirmary, meeting the rest of the x-men. they surround xavier’s comatose body, talking amongst each other about what was going on, until ororo started speaking.

“the professor was attacked a few minutes ago by the x-men we once knew as jean grey. however, the friend we knew and once loved is now gone and is being possessed by a dark entity. this being is catastrophic and we must stop it before it’s too late—” she paused and took a look at her fellow mutants, before raising an eyebrow.

“where’s scott?”

“he’s out of commission for a while. ill catch him up later.” logan’s arm snaked around you waist, appearing behind you and answering her question. she nodded and continued with the details of the mission, before listing out names of those who would be on it.

you and logan were the main frontmen for this mission. storm had converged a plan on how it should go down, along with a plan b; warning you guys that there’s a slight chance it might end bad. she put her faith in you and the team, before dismissing everyone. the mission would take place tomorrow.

———

sitting on logan’s surprisingly soft bed, you relaxed while he was in the shower. your mind was running rampant about what could possibly happen tomorrow. being that this could possibly be the end, frightened you, especially since you haven’t told him how you felt.

“logan?” you called out, listening to the calming sound of the shower running.

“yeah?” he responded and you got up from his bed and stripped out of your clothes, joining him in the shower. the sight of his nude, wet body was breathtaking. so very breathtaking, that you couldn’t help but break down and cry—sobbing as the warm water painted your face.

those thick eyebrows raised and he immediately pulled you close, rubbing circled on your back; along with rubbing your head. “hey, talk to me. won’t be able to understand you when you’re crying like this, princess.”

you nodded in his hairy chest before pulling back, sniffling. this was the time to let it all out, let him know how you feel.

“i love you. i love you so fucking bad, logan. you’re all i think about. i think about us getting married and having a litter or two of kids…” he laughed at and kissed your temple, before urging you to continue.

“you’ve been there for me for a while now. you uplifted me and showed me what true love is. and it pains me to know that there’s a possibility that tomorrow could take this away from me.” more tears poured out of your eyes and he cupped your face, kissing away your tears.

logan honestly felt the same. he fell in love with you the moment you joined the x-men. even when you got with scott, he still loved you. he just knew it was fate that the two of you were meant to be. he moved his lips down to your soft plump ones, making you melt on the spot.

the kiss the two of you shared held such passion, that you wished you could stay like this forever.

“i love you too, princess. but, you will tell me this tomorrow; when we win.” he kissed from your lips down to your neck before stopping at the middle of your chest—kissing one of your mounds and holding the other; earning a moan from you.

“in the meantime, how about we get started on that litter?” you giggled and nodded your head, before your back was against the wall with his cock in between your legs—warming up from your heat, while he pinched one of your perky nipples and sucked on the other.

slick started to pool and drip onto his cock as he continued to tease your sensitive breasts, fueling your arousal. “please, baby….don’t tease me—wan’ you inside of me~”

he pulled away from your nipple with a ‘pop’ echoing after, still teasing the other one with his rough hands, a smirk painted on his rugged face. “you sure you’re ready for that, doll?” he asked and you nodded profusely. lifting up your leg, he rubbed himself on your slick coated slit, using your essence as lubricant and then pushed himself into your tightness.

he threw his head back from how you felt, and your walls clung to him; clenching and unclenching around him. the pressure he was putting on your clit, had you cumming prematurely. he smirked and pulled himself out, making you whimper; already missing how he filled you up—even though it was just the tip.

he repeated that process, pushing his cock in and pulling you out, earning more lewd noises from you and your pretty pussy. “logannn, please fuck me already!” he grunted in response and slammed himself inside—filling you to the brim with his cock. you squealed from the pleasurably painful sensation that coursed through you, kissing him to distract you from the pain.

the grip on your leg tightened as he started to pound your sweet little pussy, walls stretching past its normals limits. the more he fucked you, the more your cunt became molded to the shape of his cock. it was evident that you were made for him.

by now, the water had gotten cold and he continued to rut inside of you—cunt coating his cock with your creamy white fluids. he was drowning in your sweet fluids and he didn't need a floatie—he had reached nirvana.

in one swift motion, the shower was off and you were in his arms—legs wrapped around his waist while he was still inside; carrying you out of the shower & over to the bathroom sink. he pulled out momentarily as he placed you on your feet and turned you around, your fat ass facing him; while he plunged right back inside of your middle.

pushing your arch down, placing his hands on your hips—he reached deeper than before, causing you to scream. “dick too big for you baby?” you nodded and he chuckled, grinding himself against you until he started to pound you silly.

you tried to open your mouth to speak, to warn him that you were going to cum, but your mind was too fucked out to process anything; so you let out a sweet moan. “go ahead and cum for me princess. could feel her twitching around me.”

it was amazing how he knew your body so well already and it didn’t take long for you to heed his words, cumming hard on his dick while he continued to make your cunt his. the tightness of your walls squeezing him, broke him and he couldn’t help but to cum buckets inside of you—filling your tummy up with his kids.

the two of you panted, bodies shaking as your orgasms came over you—your head being pulled back so he could press a kiss to your lips.

“i love you, princess.”

———

blood covered the blue and yellow suits the team wore as the dark phoenix made paint out of their blood. the fight wasn’t going so good. some of you were gravely injured, possibly on the brink of death, while some of you tried to catch your breaths; still able to fight.

you looked over at a bleeding logan, worried about the wounds he had received, catching his eyes. “don’t worry, it’ll heal.”

he charged towards the being, claws fully unsheathed, with you and few others following suit; only to be tossed away like peons. you laid there in pain, ready to accept defeat, until you heard the crunching of the dirt nearby. turning your head you were shocked to see scott, staring down the possessed body of his old lover.

scott turned to look at you and logan, and smiled before inching closer toward them. your eyes shot open, you knew exactly what he was going to do. “scott! wait,—“ but it was already too late.

with the help of colossus, the leader of the x-men was tossed over to jean—grabbing onto her before a red flash of light blinded you all. once it cleared, the two were gone. the only thing that stood where they once were, was scott’s yellow & red custom visor.

you sat there in disbelief. you never expected this to happen. yeah, you his guts, but you never expected him to sacrifice himself. better yet, die.

“c’mon doll, let’s go home~” logan’s raspy voice pulled you out of your thoughts, holding out his hand which you gladly accepted. you turned around, looking at where he was one last time, before turning around heading back to the jet.

——

5 months later.

“and here lies the visor that was once used by our leader and hero of the x-men, cyclops. he will be missed.” logan spoke to the new students joining the academy—giving them a tour, stopping at scott’s memorial.

“logan~” your voice called out to him, making him turn his attention over to you—his beautiful pregnant wife. “alright kids, gonna turn this over to our new teacher; ms. frost,” the blonde stepped up with a smile and took over while your husband jogged over to you—kissing your growing belly before moving up to your lips.

“we’re gonna be late! this is the appointment where we get to see the baby’s gender!”

it might’ve started off rough, but you were finally happy and in love.

[hoe4hamzah]

Good Morning

⤷ A Hamzah Smut

──⋆. 𐙚 ˚

⤷ In the midst of a camping trip, Hamzah and Y/N are stuck sharing a tent and a mattress. Where Hamzah's morning wood gets the best of him

⤷ Hamzah x y/n, one bed trope, smut, rough, somnophilia??

⤷ 3.9k words

⤷ chat don't comment on my english istg I'm trying so hard

The camping trip between you, Hamzah, Martin, and Mandy was going just as planned. Hiking for almost the entire day to your campsite, it was starting to get late.

You were exhausted and looking forward to climbing on your mattress and going to sleep. Martin and Mandy looked like they were getting the worst of it, both looking like they could pass out any second.

Dropping all of your bags onto the dirt of the campsite floor, you groaned, feeling relieved by the stress coming off of your back.

Everyone did the same, sitting on top of them to take a break.

"Holy fuck you guys, that was the worst experience of my life" Mandy huffed, stretching her arms and shoulders out.

"You know what, it's good for the soul, and probably our health" Martin chimed in.

"Screw your soul, Martin, I'm fucking tired," Hamzah butted in, "I didn't realize it was gonna be so far away"

You laughed at Hamzah's exclamation, nodding along.

You only recently started hanging out with the three of them. You knew Mandy from work and after a crazy shift you went back to her house for a glass of wine.

Martin and Hamzah were hanging out that same night, allowing you to meet all of them. You guys really all hit it off together and have been friends for about a month now, Martin regularly asking Mandy if you could come over after work.

You and Hamzah weren't too close, you could comfortably talk and be on your own together without any awkwardness, but you guys didn't have the same closeness as you did with Mandy or Martin.

You enjoyed the time you got to spend with all of them though, and you all got along well enough to go on a camping trip together while you all took a break from work.

Camping together was a fun idea, and you knew you were gonna enjoy the time you guys would spend together, even if that meant carrying around heavy backpacks for hours.

Everyone was hungry, but you all agreed you were too tired to start a fire and cook something. Mandy dug out granola bars and bags of dried fruit from the backpack sitting next to her, giving everyone something to eat before you had to deal with the tents.

Scarfing the food down, you all had to build the tents. You and Mandy would share while Martin and Hamzah would share, having two small mattresses in each tent.

None of you really knew how to set up a tent so it really became a four person job. The four of you argued about directions and how the tent would get set up, evantually figuring it out. You opened one of the boxes from the mattresses and noticed instead of there being two small ones in each mattress, there was only one big one.

"Aw man Martin, you bought a full-sized matress, not two small ones" You whined, glaring at Martin.

"Bruh you're kidding" He argued, looking through the boxes, "Well shoot, I guess we have to cuddle Hamzah"

"Oh great" Hamzah hummed sarcastically.

You weren't too annoyed, knowing you and Mandy were too tired to really care. The two of you have experianced enough at work to be bothered by having to sleep close to each other.

Mandy helped Martin move his stuff into his tent before blowing up the mattress. You and Hamzah watched for a minute before moving on, "Here, I'll help set up you and Mandy's tent"

The two of you started on the second tent, building it a bit easier now that both of you knew what to do. You dug around for the second mattess box, this one also being a single full sized matress.

You brought it into the tent and used the pump it came with to blow it up. Hamzah grabbing your bags and bringing it into your tent.

"How's is looking?" He asked

"So far, so go" You smiled, "I don't know what those two are going but we could probably get your bags in your tent and Mandy's in here"

Hamzah nodded as you went over by the pile of bags and helped cary Hamzahs to his tent. As he unziped the tent he noticed Martin and Mandy passed out on the mattress like a couple of starfish.

"Martin, Mandy, wake up" He said, jiggling the air mattress with his foot. "Bro they fell asleep, what the hell"

You groaned and threw your head back, wishing Mandy would wake up so you two could go back to your tent and sleep.

After Hamzahs multiple attempts at waking them up, they stayed knocked out, "Who even falls asleep that fast"

"They could have at least helped put stuff away" You chuckled.

You climbed out of the tent before realizing the situation, "So now what?"

Hamzah thought for a second, "I don't really know, Mandy won't wake up and I'm supposed to sleep in there with Martin"

You hummed in thought, trying to figure out another plan.

"I can always sleep in the hammock" Hamzah suggested, "Can't be that bad"

You shook your head, knowing that wouldn't end well. "You'd get eaten alive, either the bugs or the bears would get to you"

Hamzah bit the side of his lip, trying to come up with something.

"Alright, well, you can just share me and Mandys mattress, it's not the end of the world I guess" You admitted

Hamzah seemed a little unsure, shaking his head, "I don't know, that's kinda odd, no?"

You shrugged your shoulders, "Well yeah, but that's kind of the only option at the moment"

He nodded before finally agreeing to share your tent, dragging his bags in there while you took Mandys into Martins tent.

You sat on the end of the mattress, while Hamzah climbed in and zipped it shut. You rubbed your eyes as Hamzah sat next to you and huffed. He layed his back down against the mattress before sighing.

"I'm so tired man" he yawned, "I gotta go to sleep"

You nodded along, yawning after him.

The two of you changed into more comfortable clothes, facing away from each other in seperate corners.

It was hot out, and even more hot in the tent. You were planning on just wearing a tank and underwear since you would have been with Mandy. And Hamzah was planning on just wearing his underwear as he was suppposed to be with Martin.

Neither of you knew the other person was in the same dilemma, both thinking about what to wear. It would have been one thing if you were on seperate mattresses, but now that you're sharing the same one, your outfit choice had to be more appropriate.

Digging through your clothes, you found a white tanktop and grey sweat shorts. Hamzah himself found sweatpants and a black wifebeater for a shirt.

You flopped yourself onto the mattress as you and Hamzah were both done changing. Grabbing a pillow and a blanket before cozying up.

You didn't exactly need the blanket, but you felt the need to cover up as you could somewhat see your nipples through the white tank. You weren't exactly worried though, Hamzah never gave off weird vibes to you that made you want to shield yourself. But in this situation, you felt it would be a good idea.

Hamzah grabbed his own pillow and blanket, plopping the pillow next to your head and the blanket in between you and where he was going to sleep.

It seemed he was in the same situation, he felt it would be more comfortable for the both of you to have something to seperate the two of you since you've never been this close before.

Hamzah flopped onto the mattress, causing you to whine as it bounced you around, "Hamzah go to bed." He chuckled a little before laying on his side, facing away from you.

It was a rough night, you could hear the snores from the tent on the other side of the campsite, it was extremly hot, and Hamzah kept tossing a turning, the movements making the mattress move under you. Your back was facing him and your eyes were wide open, knowing you weren't going to sleep very well regardless of how tired you were.

After another 30 minutes, the heat was starting to get to you, needing to pull down the blanket that covered your chest. It felt awfully freeing to have the fresh air on you, but you still covered your chest with your arms.

You noticed Hamzah rustling behind you in a manner that sounded like he was wide awake. You layed on your back, looking over at him as fumbled with his sweat pants. You wanted to ask if he was okay but he quickly lifted his hips and yanked off his sweatpants, leaving him in his underwear and his top.

Before he could realize you were awake you closed your eyes, and he grabbed the blanket that seperated the two of you and covered himself up, still trying to maintain some decency.

Part of you felt interested in the fact that he took off his sweatpants while the other part felt embarassed and flushed.

You tried your best to ignore it and get some sleep.

Fortunately, you were able to get some sleep in, but you woke up again to the heat about an hour later.

You opened your eyes and noticed the tent was a little brighter, rubbing your eyes to see clearer, seeing Hamzah scrolling through his camera roll on his phone.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" He whispered?

You shook your head, "No, the stupid heat did"

Hamzah nodded in agreement, "Yeah me too, I'm kind of dying over here"

"If you need to take your shirt off, I get it," You hummed, "It's getting really hot"

"Yeah, I thought about it," Hamzah nodded, "Just didn't wanna be too weird"

You simply nodded back, watching as he threw his phone down and sat up to take off his shirt.

Looking away to give him privacy, you noticed the state of yourself. You were laying on your back, you tank ridded up to your chest, your shorts looked like they were about to slide right off, you somehow kicked your blanket off completely, and your nipples were completely showing through the sheer tank.

Your face flushed as you sat up to reach your blanket and cover yourself up, mumbling a small "sorry" under your breath.

Hamzah didn't respond, laying back on his side, facing away form you, with his blanket covering his legs. You took that as him not noticing the state you had been in for who knows how long.

You stayed laying like that before you were finally exhausted enough to fall asleep completely.

That was the last time you woke up from the heat, your exhaustion finally hitting you and knocking you out for the rest of the night.

Once it was morning, you rubbed your eyes and checked your phone.

6:30am

You sighed, knowing no one else would be awake and you wouldn't be able to fall back asleep.

Turning over to get more comfortable, you saw Hamzah asleep on his back. His blanket was kicked down halfway on his thighs, one arm above his head and one on his stomach.

You felt jealous of his ability to be sleeping right know, but you were happy he was finally able to rest.

Trying no to stare at him, you looked away from him, though your eyes grazed over his lower half as you looked away.

Doing a double take, you realized Hamzah had a big issue.

He had the biggest boner you think you've ever seen in your life.

You looked away again, feeling perverted for even looking at it to begin with. You adjusted the blanket on you, and pulled it over your sholders, turning back on your side, away from Hamzah.

Your heart beated in your chest, feeling it in your throat. You shut your eyes and tried to think about something else, not knowing what to do about the morning wood situation.

After a few minutes, Hamzah rolled onto his side, this time, facing you. His arm flew over your body and you could feel his dick poking your ass, making your heart beat even faster.

He was still passed out, not noticing the position he was in.

Part of you wanted to scoot away, but a different part of you wanted to stay there.

Hamzah was an attractive guy, you knew that. He had beautiful curly hair, strong arms, an amazing smile, adn was overall very handsome. He even had a good personality, always knowing the right thing to say and what to do.

You knew he was the type of guy who could get whoever he wanted, he was good at talking to girls, and from Martins jokes, good at taking care of them too.

Even the thought of Hamzah doing anything inappropriate made you bite your lip. Even though you were friends, you couldn't rationalize saying no to him if he tried to make a move on you.

How could you? He was perfect.

Pulling yourself out of this little day dream, you realized you were subtly rubbing your ass against his cock by the thought of him in an innapropriate situation.

You stopped yourself as you bit your lip, hoping he didn't wake up and think you were a total freak who was trying to give him a boner in his sleep.

Fortunately for you, he wasn't awake. He definetly was stirring in his sleep, breathing heavier, and humming a little in your ear, but he wasn't awake.

You tried so hard not to think about him innapropriatley anymore, but the thought of him fucking you kept forcing it's way into your mind.

It was strange, because you never thought about him sexually before, of course you thought he was sexy, but you never sat there and thought "I need to fuck him."

You could feel the slickness in your panties without even touching them. Squeezing your legs in attempts to supress the feeling your cunt was developing.

You slowly slipped your hand under the band of your shorts and panties, trying not to wake up Hamzah as his arm was still laying over you.

The slickness of your pussy grazed onto your fingertips as you slid them between your folds.

As your fingers bumped your clit, you let out a tiny involuntary whine. Slowly pulling them away before gently going back and rubbing your clit in circles.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you bit your lip to block any noises.

This was crazy. You were crazy.

You felt Hamzah stir in his sleep behind you, letting out a sigh before going silent again.

You thought for a second. You should stop. No. What if he likes it. But your're just friends.

Thoughts flew through your brain, no knowing what to do.

His boner was still pressed against your ass, throbbing in his restricting underwear.

Sliding your hand out of your pants, your looked over your shoulder. He was dead asleep.

Your pussy throbbed now that you saw his face, wanting so badly but to get attention from him.

You bit your lip a little before slowly rubbing your ass against his cock, waiting for him to wake up.

His arm moved, holding the side of your waist, but he still wasn't awake.

You kept your movements going before your hands made their way up to your chest, slipping under your tank and pinching your nipples. You whinned a little at your own actions as you felt Hamzah press his cock further against your ass.

You froze, not sure if he was awake or asleep.

If he was awake, then he made it clear he liked your advances, but if he was sleeping, it seemed like you weren't getting very far.

You were unsure of what to do, you wanted to look over at him but if the two of you made eyecontact you'd be so embarassed.

The only thing you could think of was continuing your movements and start grinding aginst him again.

Your hips moved slow, if he was awake he could easily believe you were doing this in your sleep.

Still moving your hips, you felt his grip tighten on your waist. You halted your movements, laying still.

Exactly then, his hand started moving your hips, making you grind against him like you were before.

That's when you knew he was awake.

And he knew you were awake when you stopped moving after his grip tightened on your waist a second before.

Neither of you said a thing, but you both grinded against each other. His cock throbbed against your ass, twitching ever so often.

His breathing grew heavy and dick grew harder.

He bit his lip once he heard you let out small breathy whines, waiting for him to give you something more.

His hand glided up and down your side, making its way under your shirt and to your tits. Hamzah softly squeezed your nipple, causing you to let out a weak whimper.

His hand then went down to the waistband of your shorts, slipping his hand in over your panties.

Hamzah let out a soft sigh when he felt the wetness of your pussy soaking through your panties.

Your arm reached behind you, placing your hand right over his cock, giving it a squeze before rubbing it over his underwear.

You could hear the breathy moan he let out and feel the precum ooze through his underwear.

Both of you wanted this, and bad.

Hamzahs hand went under your panties, feeling the pure slick of your cunt.

You pulled your hand off of him before lifting your hips and pulling down your shorts and panties, giving his hand more access.

His fingers slipped up and down your folds, massaging at them then going to your clit. Hamzah slowly rubbed your clit in circles as you let you a loud whine.

He halted his movements before quietly saying "shhhh," pressing a kiss against the back of your shoulder and continuing to circle your clit.

Even though that was the first thing he muttered to you, you couldn't be upset. You knew you needed to be quiet as Mandy and Martin were fairly close.

As Hamzah continued to rub your clit your grinded your ass against his clothed cock, causing more movement for the both of you.

You let out a whimper, one that practically sent Hamzah over the edge.

He pulled his hand off your pussy and to himself. You felt as he tugged off his own underwear, his cock slapping against your ass.

Hamzah grabbed his dick and moved it down, sliding it up and down your folds, teasing you.

You wiggled your hips a little, trying to follow your hips so the tip of his cock was against your cunt no matter where he moved it.

With his dick pressed up against your tight hold, you ever so slightly thrusted your hips backwards, the tip of his cock threatening to slip in.

That's when Hamzahs hand went back to your waist and slowly slipped his cock inside of you.

You both let out gasps as he bottomed out, both of you staying still. The tightness of your cunt squeezed him so well, causing a stretch inside you.

He was big, really big, but he fit inside of you so perfectly. The stretch was painful, but it was a good pain, the kind of pain you like.

You wiggled your hips a little, wanting him to start moving.

"Can you be quiet for me, hun?" Hamzah whispered in your ear

You eagerly nodded, whining in his confidence to make you feel good.

He slowly pulled out before thrusting back in again, moving back and forth softly and carefully.

His gentleness was kind but you wanted him to fuck you like he meant it.

You pressed your ass back against him roughly when he started pulling out again, signaling that you wanted more.

He chuckled softly against you before turning you on your stomach and pulling your ass up in the air, his dick staying inside of you the entire time.

You moaned into your pillow and the movement as he roughly thrusted into you, gripping your waist harshly.

His thrusts were mean, rough, fast, and deep, hitting you in all of the right spots.

One of his hands when to the top of your back, keeping it pressed down while he fucked you.

His thrusts continued, and it took everything in you not to scream out.

Your pussy was dripping, his dick hitting every spot inside you. His breathy moans made your more wet.

He let out a small, "fuck" under his breath, showing how badly he wants this.

Hamzahs thrusts never slowed down. He repeatedly thrusted deep inside you at a pace that made you want to cum all over him.

You let out a whimpery "mmm" as you felt yourself get close.

One of his hands grabbed your shoulder, pulling you upright, wrapping that hand around your neck.

You dropped your head against his shoulder as his other hand went to your cunt, rubbing your clit in gentle circles.

The arch of your back allowed him to still be able to thrust into you, keeping the roughness he had before,

Your eyes filled with tears from the stimulation, and you tried so hard not to moan, not to let Mandy and Martin hear what he was doing to you.

Hamzah locked eyes with you, a small grin forming on his face when he saw you trying to resist cumming.

The thing is, neither of you wanted this to end, but both of you wanted to cum so bad.

Hamzah continued pumping in and out of you, leaning his head down to press kisses to your neck, trying to show you he wasn't trying to take advantage of the situation.

You let out little whimpers, squeezing around his cock.

"You close, hun?" He asked, continuing his motions.

You nodded quickly, letting out a little whimper.

He nodded in response, "Me too baby, me too"

"H-Hamzah," You tried to mutter, voice fighting a moan, "please"

"Please what baby?" He questioned, "What do you want?"

"I- ah- I want you- mm- to cum inside me" You moaned

"Okay baby, okay" Hamzah responded, pressing another kiss against your neck.

As his thrusts continued, you could feel yourself twitching against him, your pussy so so close to release.

With a few more thrusts you felt that rough knot in your stomach unravel, and your cunt come undone on his cock.

Your body twitched as you felt the overstimulation of him thrusting into you after you had just orgasmed.

He slowly layed you down on your stomach, following you down so his cock never left the inside of you.

You squirmed underneith him, pussy aching.

"I know, I know," Hamzah hummed, "I'm almost there angel, wait one minute"

Even though you already came and were ready to be done, his words made you more wet, not wanting him to stop.

With a few more of thrusts, Hamzah felt himself about to finish. He let out some breathy grunts before cumming inside you like you begged him too.

Before pulling out, he pressed more kisses to the back of your shoulder.

He slipped his length out of you, turning you over on your back so he could see you better.

The two of you made eye contact before both softly laughing, simultaneously trying to catch your breath.

"Good morning" Hamzah smiled

"Good morning"

[iluvbuckets]

can you do a fic of paige based off a prompt like this https://www.tumblr.com/tullipsoftheearth/782579912994390016/im-not-sleeping-over-prank

i'm not sleeping over

 paige bueckers x fem!reader 

summary: you and paige are both athletes at uconn, and you decide that it would be funny to do the "I'm not sleeping over tonight" prank

warnings: nothin just fluff

word count: 1.1k

notes: not my best work but that's bc I'm better at sad and yearning. here's my treat since i won't be able to write tomorrow bc I'm gonna go get drunk!

✷✷✷

you and paige weren’t a secret, but you were definitely private. 

still, sometimes you knew what you had to do and provide your tiktok followers with paige content. before you met paige, you didn’t really post much on tiktok. sure, you were extremely active with watching videos, but you only posted sporadically for big game days or when you were at home. however, since you met paige, that changed.

you met her at one of your tennis matches. she would maintain that it was completely fate that you happened to be sitting on the bench watching your teammates when she and azzi sat down next to you, and that may have been true the first time. but then it happened a second time, and then a third time, and you knew it was no accident. she had talked to you all three times, but the third time, she finally asked if you wanted to hang out with her. 

you were just friends for quite a while before she finally asked you on a date.

it was no secret that the uconn women’s basketball team was active on social media between dancing tiktok’s and lives, so you weren’t shocked by any means when they would ask you to be in a video or you would happen to be there when they were live. the first video you were in was a dancing video with kk and paige at one of your tennis matches when you and paige first started hanging out, and the comments were so confused about who you were. they didn’t know what to think.

their followers quickly warmed up to you when they realized how unintentionally funny you were, though, and you found yourself with tons of new followers that you were not expecting. 

you had been caught in quite a few lives, whether you were front and center with them doing crumbl reviews or just happened to be in the back, but you didn’t mind. and that’s how your relationship with paige became public knowledge, even if you two hadn’t explicitly confirmed or denied anything.

while kk was live sitting at paige’s desk, paige was leaning against her dresser to be in frame while you were lying on her bed. at some point, you asked paige to fill your water bottle since she was up, which she did without arguing, of course. the comments were already going crazy over that, but all hell broke loose when she brought it back. she handed it to you and leaned down to peck you on the lips. it should’ve been fine since you were seemingly out of frame, but you both had completely forgotten that everyone could see in the mirrored closet doors. 

it wasn’t that you wanted to keep each other a secret by acting like you were just friends, but you both agreed that you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. she preferred to keep her private life private and so did you, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t post to each other sometimes. 

one day while you were lying in her bed, scrolling through tiktok to pass the time until she got home from practice, you found the perfect trend that you knew would be hilarious. 

you had planned to do it as a stand-alone video, but when kk set up her phone to start a live, you knew it was the perfect time to do it. it was just you and her sitting on the couch, so before she started it and while paige was grabbing something from her room, you whispered the plan to her. she nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

“hey y’all,” kk said as people started pouring in. 

you were sitting on the couch together, her phone on the corner of the coffee table angled to make sure you were both in it. you had planned to stand up when paige entered the room to act like you were leaving–so you had your shoes and sweatshirt on with your keys in your pocket–and kk would flip the camera.

finally after a few minutes, paige emerged from the hallway carrying a blanket with a big, goofy smile on her face. you almost felt bad, but it definitely wasn’t going to stop you. you stood up, and kk quickly snatched her phone to flip the camera.

“i’m gonna head back to my dorm,” you said with a straight face, like you were genuine. obviously, you had zero plans to head back, considering you had probably been sleeping in paige’s for about four straight weeks.

“for real? let me grab my shoes then,” she replied. you tried not to laugh as she went to  set her blanket down on the counter. you should’ve known that she would assume you meant her too.

“no, i meant i’m gonna head back by myself.”

she gave you a weird look and laughed. “nah, nah.”

“i want to sleep in my own bed tonight,” you said sadly, almost breaking.

kk’s comments were blowing up about how funny paige’s obvious clinginess is and trying to decipher if it was real or not. the general consensus was that it was indeed the trend, but you were selling it extremely well. 

“why?” she pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. you could hear kk giggling from the corner, so paige shot her a warning side eye. she seemed to notice that kk was either recording or live from the way she was holding her phone, so she fully turned toward her. “my girlfriend doesn’t like me anymore.” 

you lightly shoved her shoulder, mouth dropping open in disbelief, “i didn’t say that!” 

“yes, you did.” this time she gave you the side eye playfully with a tight smile.

you rolled your eyes at her, but decided to keep up with the bit. “come on, you have a morning lift tomorrow and i don’t feel like being woken up at the same time as you.”

“you’ve never complained before!” she cried. this time her mouth was the one that dropped open in disbelief at her words. you couldn’t contain your laugh at her reaction, seemingly desperate to get you to change your mind.

“i’m just kidding, paige. have you not seen that trend?” you laughed. kk joined you in the laughter this time, not having to try to contain it.

she crossed her arms and pouted again. “s’not funny.” 

the comments were rolling in with people making fun of paige and saying how good of an actor you were, and you knew you would see the clip on your for you page in the morning. 

you would probably comment alongside her fans about how genuinely upset she was and how funny it was.

[pieandflannel]

₊˚⊹♡ body swap pt.2

part one | part three

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: what’s the first thing you do when you wake up in dean’s body? the clear obvious

cw: 18+ smut.ᐟ slightly comical.ᐟ pwp.ᐟ exploration of the male body.ᐟ male masterbation.ᐟ you match dean’s perviness [jk you’re worse].ᐟ you jerk it while in his body.ᐟ cum tasting.ᐟ you catch dean playing with himself in your body.ᐟ

word count: 1295

julia yaps: i tried my best but i don’t have a pp so i’m sorry if this is bad, you guys were begging for part two so here it is.

────────── 👥 ──────────

you get woken up by a weird feeling while sleeping on your stomach, as if you were laying on something long and stiff. you let out a little groan as you lift your head up to check the time, seven thirty in the morning was way too early for you to be awake so you rolled your eyes. “what the hell” you murmured before reaching under yourself to check what it was that was poking you.

at first you thought you must have fallen asleep on your sex toy but as you tried pulling it out from underneath you, you were rudely awakened by pain. “ouu fuck what the hell” you hissed before sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

your eyes widened as you notice you weren’t in your bed, and that you were looking down at a bulge in not your hot dog pjs. at first you were so confused, wondering why on earth would you be dreaming about something like that, but as your brain started waking up and catching up with reality, it all hit you. the god damn witch. what a fucking bitch. you must have swapped bodies with dean after yesterdays failed hunt.

you couldn’t help your curiosity, you gently poked at the bulge before hooking your fingers under the waistband and slowly peaking inside, honestly the gasp you let out could’ve woken china up.

“oh. my. god..” you gasped, your lips parted and eyes widened. there was a dick, a big dick attached to your body. well, dean’s body. well actually.. he is the owner of this dick so like- okay okay focus. there is a big hard cock in your pj pants.

but lord did it look mouth watering, no wonder dean was popular with the ladies, i mean come on, not too big but definitely not small, girthy and with the perfect amount of veins, the tip blushing pink with pearly precum leaking out, it was practically begging to be touched.

you carefully looked around the room, god were you crazy to want to try and touch it? you let out a sigh as you laid back down on the bed. this was wrong wasn’t it? dean is your friend and he wouldn’t want you to be touchi- okay that’s probably a lie, but the point still stands. it was wrong. like hello, privacy.. right?

that’s why it felt even more tempting to try. but come on you won’t be walking around with a hard on for hours, before you and dean figure out a reverse spell for this it’ll take a day if not more, plus you’ve heard somewhere before that guys just jerk off to get rid of it and that’s all. no big deal right? you’re helping yourself help dean, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

you put the palm of your hand on the bulge through the clothing, gently palming yourself. it felt.. nice, but also weird. obviously much different from a coochie.

the little devil on your shoulder tempting you to slide down the pjs and just play with it, you bit your lip thinking it through, dean will probably play with your boobs when he wakes up so.. ehh fuck it, he doesn’t need to know.

you hooked your fingers onto the waistband again and slowly pulled the pjs down till the knees, the girthy cock springing free, you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the delicious view between your legs. you couldn’t lie, dean’s cock was gorgeous.

without wasting much more time, you wrapped your hand around the cock, thumb spreading the precum all over the tip like it was lube.

which reminded you, you probably need lube. you reached into dean’s night stand drawer, searching for any bottle of lube, because let’s be real here he definitely has a lot.

“aha!” you let out as you managed to find a nearly empty bottle. this man’s been busy huh? can’t blame him honestly.

you squirted some of it on your hand and went back to business. you circled your thumb over the tip, fuck that felt so good. so so good, but you were impatient, so it didn’t take you long before starting to slide your hand up and down the shaft, slowly. dean’s hand looked so pretty as it was wrapped around his cock.

you tried feeling out every inch and detail, you eyes roaming around and exploring the lower body, the small pudge of a belly dean has was honestly a turn on, the vein that decorated his left hip looked so kissable. “fuck..” you whimpered as you sped up, gently squeezing your hand around the tip.

your breath growing heavier as you jerked yourself off, i wonder if he’d let me do it once we are back in our bodies, you thought to yourself.

the pace of your hand quickening without much thought, it felt too fucking good, your mind was going foggy from the pleasure that invaded every nerve in your body. you felt pressure building in the lower abdomen region.

you let out another whimper, your chest rising and falling as you were so close to the edge. “fuck i’m about to cum..” you moaned out before strings of white started shooting all over your hand and abdomen.

you kept on pumping your hand, trying to ride out the climax to the fullest. your breath heavy as your body tensed up before relaxing. you let your head fall back on the pillow for a second before looking down at the mess you’ve left. the head of the cock throbbing.

all this pearly white droplets, it would be such a waste to just clean it all up with a tissue, you thought to yourself. you let go of the slowly softening cock and lifted your hand up to your mouth, contemplating for a second if it would be weird trying the cum on your hand.

you shrug it off though and don’t think much of it, sticking your tongue out and licking the semen off your hand. it tasted quite salty, but then again that’s a bit obvious considering what dean’s diet consists of.

after you got your breath back you cleaned yourself up with the tissues from the nightstand and pulled your silly little hot dog pjs back up and headed out the door, down the hallway in the direction of your room, hoping to find dean in your body.

as you stood in front of the door you heard faint moans and a vibrating sound, your eyes widened “oh my god..” you whispered to yourself, he’s not- is he? you stepped a bit closer to the door, your ear gently resting against the wood trying to pick up on more noise, the moans continued.

dean found your bunny vibrator, that’s for sure. a sudden idea lit up in your brain and a smirk grew on your face. you grabbed the door handle and without knocking you opened the door, making dean jump and pull the toy out. “whoa hey do you knock?!” he spoke in your voice, it was odd to hear your own voice like that.

“well this is my room dean” you smirked, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. “and that is my toy you’re using”

you tilted your head slightly as you caught a glimpse of a completely different angle of your coochie. “wow my pussy looks so pretty from this angle” you couldn’t stop yourself from complementing.

you walked into the room and closed the door behind you, locking it and slowly stepping closer towards dean in your body, on your bed, your toy in his hand. “i see curiosity got the best of you… need some help with that?” you offered with a smirk.

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

tags: @jensino @emeraldcrs @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @missus-ackles @littlesoulshine @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @bruisedfig @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @rositaslabyrinth @deanspookiebear @tinas111 @bejeweledinterludes @miss-marmalade @pinksatinpanties @multiversefanfics @cupidzbunny @sunnyteume @mrsanakinwinchesterpoldark @krabog

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