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faebled-stories · 8 months ago

Text

"We Met Online"

Kinkvember Day 1: Virtual Reality

LOONA/ARTMS Jeon Heejin x Male reader

(Happy Belated Halloween)

8.6k words

Heejin was exhausted after another grueling day packed with rehearsals, interviews, and photoshoots. The bright lights and relentless schedules of her life as an idol often overshadowed the excitement and passion she once felt for her craft. While the glitz and glamor brought rewards, they also came with the suffocating weight of expectation—the never-ending demand for perfection. After yet another long day navigating the pressures of fame, she craved an escape, something to take her mind off the incessant hustle for just a moment.

As she entered the shared apartment she called home with her fellow ARTMS members, she was greeted by the unexpected sight of Jinsoul lounging on the couch. A mischievous smile danced across her face, instantly piquing Heejin's interest.

“Hey, Heejin!” Jinsoul called out, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Got something for you.”

Heejin raised an inquisitive eyebrow, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. Jinsoul reached behind the couch and produced a sleek black box prominently displaying a logo that sent a thrill of recognition through Heejin—Infinity. This was the VR game that had taken the gaming world by storm, promising an immersive realm where players could interact and experience life in a way that felt startlingly real.

"Before you say anything, check this out!" Jinsoul exclaimed, as she effortlessly revealed a second item—a thin, skin-tight suit that looked like it belonged in a futuristic sci-fi film. The suit shimmered slightly under the apartment's fluorescent lights, its smooth, almost weightless fabric captivating Heejin's attention.

“What... is that?” Heejin asked, hesitantly taking the suit from Jinsoul’s hands. The fabric felt cool against her fingertips, almost alive with potential.

“This,” Jinsoul said, her smile widening, “is what makes the experience really immersive. It’s a haptic feedback suit. You wear this while playing, and it makes you feel everything from touches to sensations—like you’re actually there. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

Heejin eyed the suit with a mix of intrigue and apprehension. The thought of feeling things in a game was both thrilling and slightly unnerving. Yet, given the chaotic demands of her life, the idea of escaping reality, even for just a little while, was immensely tempting.

“Alright,” Heejin finally said, a small smile breaking through her exhaustion. “I’ll give it a try.”

After quickly changing into the snug suit—its fabric wrapping around her like a second skin—Heejin donned the Infinity VR headset. As she activated it, the familiar world of her daily routine melted away, replaced by a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors and enchanting scenery in the expansive landscape of the game.

Heejin found herself standing in the midst of a bustling virtual marketplace, where avatars of all shapes and sizes interacted with one another amid floating islands, glowing rivers, and a mesmerizing starry sky. The air felt cool and invigorating, a crispness that felt astoundingly real, and the sensation of her feet grounding her on the cobblestone path added to the illusion of reality.

As she moved about, Heejin looked down at her customized avatar: Noxelia. She had spent hours meticulously designing her digital persona, pouring all her aspirations and hidden desires into this character. Noxelia was tall and graceful, exuding an air of power with every gesture. Her long silver-black hair flowed behind her like silk, cascading elegantly down her back, while her armor shimmered with a radiant violet hue, reflecting the light of the ethereal marketplace. Noxelia embodied everything Heejin wanted to be—strong, confident, and untouchable.

With each step, Heejin felt a sense of liberation. In this virtual world, the constraints and expectations tied to her real-life identity faded away. No longer did she have to strive for perfection or balance the weight of public scrutiny; in this realm, she could be anyone she wished to be. Breathing in the imaginary scents of street food and experiencing the chatter of NPCs and other players brought her an unfamiliar sense of joy.

As Heejin wandered the vibrant marketplace, the colors and sounds pulsed with life, pulling her deeper into this virtual world. Stalls adorned with shimmering goods and bustling avatars created an electric atmosphere. But it wasn’t long before her keen eye was caught by the figure of another player standing nearby—a default knight clad in simple silver armor, with a basic sword slung at his side. What made him stand out were the tiny sparkles that glimmered across his chest plate, giving him an unexpectedly charming, magical quality amidst the melee of customizations.

Heejin felt a playful smile spread across her face as she looked at her meticulously designed avatar, Noxelia, which was a beacon of creativity and power. The contrast was amusing, and she felt a spark of mischief surge within her. With a lighthearted stride, she approached the knight.

“Nice knight outfit!” Heejin teases, her voice playful as she leans casually against a nearby stall. “Going for the ‘chivalry isn’t dead’ look?”

The default knight, turn with a grin. “What can I say? I’m a classic.” Your tone is lighthearted, your eyes dancing with humor.

“Classic, huh? While that’s admirable, wouldn’t it be more fun to have something original like mine?” She gestures to her intricately designed armor, the brilliant colors and detailed patterns shimmering in the marketplace light.

You chuckle, raising your hands in mock surrender. “You’re not wrong. I didn’t spend nearly as much time as some people on the customization screen.” There’s a hint of self-deprecation in your voice, your friendly expression encouraging her boldness.

With a flick of her hair, Heejin takes pride in her work. “I customized it all myself. Took hours, but every second was worth it. It feels so much more... me. But hey, at least you have those shiny sparkles.” She flashes you an encouraging smile, appreciating the effort you put in, however minimal it may seem.

You glance down at your armor, a hint of embarrassment creeping onto your face but quickly replaced with admiration for her dedication. “It’s impressive,” you admit. “But the sparkles? Blame my sister for those. She thought the default knight was too boring and convinced me to give it a touch of flair.”

Heejin’s grin widens at your candidness. “Your sister’s got good taste! At least someone in your family does.” She chuckles, the playful banter putting you both at ease.

And just like that, an easy connection forms between you two, filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing. Amidst the bustling marketplace, your camaraderie begins to bloom, reminding Heejin that sometimes, it’s not just the detailed armor or flashy weapons that make a game more enjoyable, but the spontaneous conversations with fellow players that create memories worth cherishing.

Over the next few weeks, you and Heejin forge a routine of playing together regularly. You become a familiar duo, exploring the vastness of Infinity, navigating through intricate puzzles, unveiling hidden treasures in new zones, and playfully competing in exhilarating mini-games. Amidst the thrill and occasional heated competition, Heejin finds herself drawn to your relaxed demeanor. Your ability to elicit laughter, even in the most intense gaming moments, creates a warmth that infuses your bond with joy and light-heartedness.

One serene evening, you and Heejin find yourselves perched on Cloud Summit—a breathtaking floating isle that seems to reach for the heavens. The ambiance is nothing short of magical; the sky is painted in soft pastels, with delicate hues merging into one another, while the clouds below shimmer as if kissed by a gentle light. For Heejin, Cloud Summit quickly becomes her retreat, a serene hideaway to escape the weight of reality pressing down.

“You’re really good at this,” you say, joining her on a pixelated bench overlooking the horizon. Your avatar exudes a relaxed charm as you rest beside her, your gaze sweeping over the breathtaking scenery. “You always seem… focused.”

A gentle smile graces Heejin’s face as she takes in the view, the colors swirling like cotton candy in the vast canvas above. “That’s why I like it here,” she replies thoughtfully, her voice barely a whisper against the tranquility of the surroundings. “It’s the only place I can relax, you know?”

Curiosity flickers in your eyes as you turn to face her. “What do you mean?” you ask, genuinely interested.

Heejin takes a deep breath, letting the virtual winds carry away some of the weight she feels. “In real life,” she starts, her voice softening amidst the cloud-dappled sky, “I have this job. People expect a lot from me, and it’s exhausting. But here, in this world, I can just… be.”

Your expression shifts as the gravity of her words sinks in. You stay quiet, contemplating her vulnerability. “I get that,” you finally say. “I have my own responsibilities too. My sister... she looks up to me like I’m her knight in shining armor, but some days, it’s hard to live up to that. I feel like I’m letting her down”

It’s in that shared silence that something profound transpires. Heejin feels a deep, abiding sense of understanding passing between you, a connection that feels both immediate and enduring. Despite having never met in the physical realm, there’s an unspoken acknowledgment that pierces through the boundaries of your virtual existence.

As you linger in your conversation, Heejin finds comfort in the proximity of your avatar. Without even realizing it, you subtly shift closer, your digital shoulders brushing against each other. The feedback from her suit sends a gentle pulse through her body, etching your presence into her consciousness. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels like the quiet embrace of understanding she has longed for.

She hesitates, then feels a pull to lean into you, the act an instinctual response to the warmth radiating from your connection. “Thanks,” she murmurs, her voice barely rising above the gentle breeze. "For being here."

“For what?” you ask, your tone infused with warmth and sincerity.

“For just being here, talking to me,” she repeats, her heart swelling with gratitude.

Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, your avatars move closer together. In a spontaneous moment of bravery, you share your first virtual hug. At first, it feels a little awkward—two armored figures caught in a pixelated embrace—but through your haptic suits, warmth envelops you both, it’s a soft pressure that feels surprisingly intimate. Heejin could almost forget you could be separated by miles of reality.

Time seems to suspend as you hold onto each other. The virtual hug is simple, yet it’s charged with an energy that resonates in both your avatars and hearts. It transcends the playful banter of your previous interactions, hinting at a deeper connection emerging from the pixels.

-----

Though you never shared your real names, you and Heejin delved deeper into the recesses of each other’s lives, sharing small anecdotes and secrets that painted a vivid picture of the individuals behind your avatars. For Heejin, this was a sanctuary—a realm where she could shed the polished facade of stardom and embrace her authentic self, even under the veil of anonymity.

Your connection strengthened, and the game that once served as a mere pastime began to morph into something more profound. The boundaries of your virtual world started to blur, leading you both to a secluded enclave known as the Starlight Grove. Here, the luminescent trees and the soothing whispers of the river created an ambiance of tranquility and intimacy.

It was in this digital haven that you and Heejin experienced a shift in your relationship. As you stood beside the virtual waters, your avatars close enough to touch, a palpable tension filled the air. The haptic feedback suits you wore, designed to enhance the gaming experience, became conduits for a new kind of interaction—one that felt undeniably more real.

When you reached out and touched Heejin’s avatar, the suit sprang to life, simulating the warmth and pressure of a real human touch. The sensation was so convincing that it took her breath away. “I'll never get use to how real it feels.” she murmured, her voice tinged with surprise and delight.

Your touch was exploratory, your hand gliding down Heejin’s arm as if mapping out uncharted territory. Each pulse of sensation resonated like a soft echo, sending shivers through her body, igniting her senses. The technology bridging your virtual and physical realities had transcended mere gadgetry; it had become an extension of your very beings, allowing you to experience each other in ways you had never imagined possible within a game. Every pulse was a whisper, every sensation a promise, as you navigated this new realm of connection.

As your hand ventured lower, tracing the curve of her waist, the feedback became more intense. Heejin found herself succumbing to the illusion, her body arching toward your avatar, seeking more of the electric sensation that coursed through her with each simulated caress.

The intimacy of the moment escalated as your fingers moved with deliberate gentleness, crossing into more private territories. Heejin’s gasp echoed through the serene grove as her body responded to the suit’s accurate mapping of your touch. “Keep going, I can feel you... everywhere,” she confessed, her voice quivering with the weight of her vulnerability.

Your response was silent but spoke volumes through your actions. Your other hand found its way to her side, resting just beneath her chest. The new technology made the warmth of your touch tangible, each slow, intimate movement leaving Heejin breathless and yearning for more.

As the intensity of your virtual encounter grew, Heejin’s breaths became short and ragged. The sensors were so precise that every touch from you felt like a real caress, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her completely. Her body trembled, succumbing to the waves of pleasure that radiated from your every touch.

“Noxelia…” you murmured, your voice a low whisper that wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

“More... I want more.” she whimpered, her voice a mere whisper carried away by the digital wind.

Your fingers pressed into her with more insistence, the suit amplifying each sensation until Heejin felt as though she were floating, her body alight with an intensity that was almost too much to bear. The suit, once just a piece of gaming equipment, had become an instrument of unparalleled pleasure, each pulse and vibration resonating with her escalating desire.

Her breath caught as your virtual hands discovered a particularly sensitive spot between her legs. She hadn’t even realized that there were sensors in every nook of her pants, but the discovery heightened her awareness, causing her to arch against the unseen touch. Whimpers escaped her lips, growing more insistent, each sound a vibrato of desire.

Heejin’s cries began as a soft whimper, a prelude to the crescendo building within her. As the sensations intensified, her voice rose in pitch, becoming a series of breathy gasps punctuating the air. Each exhale carried a piece of her surrender, a testament to the pleasure that coursed through her veins.

“Please…” she breathed, the words becoming a mantra on her lips, a central thread amidst the chaos of her swirling thoughts.

As the tension built to its peak, Heejin’s cries intensified, creating a symphony of raw ecstasy. Each sound she made was a testament to the unbridled passion that enveloped her, growing louder and more urgent as the waves of pleasure coursed through her body. The air between them was charged, vibrating with the intensity of shared desire.

Her voice broke into a series of staccato moans, each one echoing the rhythm of her escalating heartbeat. Each sound was a note, weaving a melody that seemed to pulse in harmony with the flickering light of the Starlight Grove.

“Yes! Right there, don’t stop…” she panted, each syllable a fervent plea that resonated deep within the heart of their shared moment. Her body trembled, taut as a bowstring, as she teetered on the edge of rapture.

“I wouldn’t dream of it…” you replied, your tone carrying a seductive promise that pushed her further. The tension built, a fusion of will and sensation, until it snapped with breathtaking force.

The climax surged through her, a tidal wave that left her breathless and shattered, yet whole in a way only this moment could achieve. The cries that burst from her were pure and unrestrained, blending seamlessly with the ambient hum of the grove around them. Every muscle in her body seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her release, and for a moment, the world contracted to just the two of them and the echo of her bliss.

As the aftershocks rippled through her, her cries softened, subsiding into a contented hum that mirrored the tranquil ambiance of the Starlight Grove. Her breath evened out, and the only sounds left were the gentle rustle of the virtual foliage and the soft, satisfied sighs that escaped her swollen lips.

In the aftermath, as your avatars stood together in the soft glow of the luminescent garden, your heart raced, and a lingering warmth hummed through your body, a reminder of the intimacy you’d just shared. The suit, now a silent witness to the moment, lay against your skin—a gentle yet tangible link between your digital and physical worlds.

Slowly, Heejin’s body retreated, though the ghost of her touch lingered, a phantom presence you could still feel. As you looked around, the reality of what had just transpired settled in. Together, you had crossed a threshold, exploring depths of human connection in a place where the physical and the virtual felt inseparable.

The Starlight Grove, once just a scenic spot in the game, had transformed into a testament to your bond—a place where you and Heejin discovered that the heart’s capacity for connection knows no bounds, and that even within the confines of a digital world, human experiences can reach new heights of emotion and sensation.

"That was..." your voice broke the silence, filled with wonder and uncertainty. "More than I expected." The virtual space, typically a playground for fantasy and escapism, had transformed into a stage for a deeply human connection.

Heejin nodded, her breath still shaky. "Yeah... me too." The weight of what had just happened lingered, a tangible presence heavy with the knowledge that you had crossed a line neither of you anticipated.

The sensations, the connection—it had felt more real than either of you imagined possible. A game designed to simulate the thrill of adventure and camaraderie had instead become a conduit for an emotional exchange that left you both reeling. The digital environment, with its vivid landscapes and immersive experiences, had facilitated a bond that transcended pixels and code.

You laughed awkwardly, feeling uncertain of what to say next. "Uh, Noxelia, maybe I should... log off… I have a few things to take care of." The conversation, though taking place in a space where avatars are meant to be invincible, had touched something raw and vulnerable. Heejin gave a small, nervous smile, acknowledging the unspoken agreement. "Yeah... I think that’s a good idea. Same here."

With one final look, a gaze that felt as though it could pierce through the screen, you both logged off, letting the virtual world fade away. But as your screen went dark, the sound of Heejin's cries and pleas lingered, hanging in the silence long after the game had ended. The digital echo of your interaction replayed in your mind, a reminder of the depth and intensity that even online worlds could harbor.

You sat in your own apartment, the VR headset resting heavily on your lap. Like a film on replay, each moment shared between you two replayed in your mind. It felt all too tangible—too vivid. You could still feel the nuances of your presence, the harmony of your connection. This wasn’t just a game anymore; it was an experience, intimate and unforgettable. The events of the night lingered, leaving you to question what might come next.

Meanwhile, across the city, Heejin sat in the quiet of her room, yanking the VR headset off and sinking into silence as she stared blankly at the dormant screen. A light layer of sweat covered her body, her heart still pounding in her chest, the residual sensations from the immersive experience holding on like a delicate trace. Tentatively, she placed a hand between her legs, feeling the warmth and dampness that confirmed the intensity of her climax. The touch grounded her, pulling her back from the edge of the surreal and into the present.

The suit, now just fabric against her skin, had moments before been a bridge merging the virtual with the visceral. It had allowed her to feel emotions and sensations she hadn’t anticipated, leaving her both disoriented and exhilarated.

Running a hand through her hair, she struggled to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. Heejin, once just another player in the game, was now someone who had reached beyond the pixels, tethered by a connection that had transcended the screen.

Yet, as you sat in the stillness, you grappled with the implications of what had unfolded. Together, you’d crossed a boundary separating virtual interaction from emotional reality. What did this mean for your relationship? The urge to reach out lingered, but so did uncertainty. How could you transition from screen to reality, from alias to name, from a fantasy world to a genuine connection?

In the quiet contemplation, both you and Heejin found yourselves at a crossroads, reflecting on the connection fostered in a realm where sensations collided with emotions. The lines between the virtual and the real had blurred, leaving you both wondering if this bond could grow beyond the confines of the digital universe.

-----

For the past two weeks, the digital landscape of Infinity remained devoid of activity from its two most notable players: you and Heejin. The electric encounter had left an indelible mark on both of you, each hesitant to return to the game. Every time Heejin considered logging back in, memories flooded her mind—the warmth of your touch, the realism of your interactions, enhanced by the haptic suits. It was an experience both exhilarating and unsettling, one that made her heart race and left her feeling unsure.

You, too, were haunted by that night. The human mind intermingles confusion with excitement, embarrassment with desire. Each attempt to push the memory aside only amplified the awkwardness you felt at the thought of seeing her avatar again. What could you say? How could you interact as you had before?

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm hues across your apartment, you sat at the kitchen table, exhaustion settling after a long day at work. During this quiet moment, your younger sister, Nari, burst into the room like a whirlwind, her princess costume twirling around her as she moved. You couldn’t help but smile; she’d been preparing her Halloween outfit for weeks.

“Oppa, did you get the tickets?” she asked eagerly, bouncing into the chair beside you.

Your heart sank. “Nari… I don’t know if I can get the tickets. They’re really expensive,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair as the familiar weight of financial stress settled over you.

Nari’s bright expression faltered, confusion replacing her excitement. “But you promised we’d go to the ARTMS Halloween Event! I want to see all the girls—they’re so cool! I’ve been practicing their dances for months!” Her wide eyes sparkled with innocent hope, and the ache in your heart grew.

“I know, Nari,” you said softly, trying to ease the blow. “But things are a little tough right now. We might not be able to go.”

Her face fell, and the corners of her mouth drooped in disappointment. She didn’t understand why her oppa couldn’t make this happen—he always made things happen. “Please, oppa?” she pleaded, her eyes glistening. “I really want to go! It’s going to be the best thing ever! Please? I’ll be so good, and I won’t ask for anything else! Just this, I promise!”

You looked into her hopeful eyes, feeling a tight knot form in your chest. Nari didn’t know the sacrifices you made daily to ensure she had what she needed, and those little joys that brightened her world. The thought of disappointing her was unbearable. In that moment, she was your entire world, her happiness was everything.

You felt the crushing weight of financial strain as it collided with your overwhelming love for your sister. “Alright,” you whispered, relenting, though you weren’t sure how you’d make it work. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Nari’s face lit up instantly. She leapt forward, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. “Thank you, oppa! You’re the best! I can’t wait! We can match our costumes, and it’ll be perfect!”

Despite the worry gnawing at you, her joy was infectious, a reminder that despite life’s hardships, moments like these made everything worthwhile. “Yeah,” you murmured, softening under her embrace. “I’ll make sure we go.”

As you held Nari close, a spark of determination ignited. No matter the obstacles ahead, you would find a way to make this happen. Her happiness was worth everything, and you’d do whatever it took to make her dreams a reality.

-----

On a balmy evening, you and your sister, Nari, stepped into the buzz of excitement that enveloped the venue. The air was thick with anticipation as fans clad in vibrant costumes filled the space, their laughter and chatter mingling with the distant sound of music. You took a deep breath, adjusting the metallic sheen of your knight costume that you had donned to match Nari's enchanting princess outfit. However, beneath the gleaming armor, a sense of unease stirred within you. Your thoughts spiraled back to Noxelia, the girl who had ignited your heart during your late-night gaming sessions. Did she think of you the way you thought of her?

The crowd erupted into cheers as ARTMS finally took the stage, the deafening roar sweeping through the venue like a wave. Your heart nearly stopped, your breath catching in your throat the moment your eyes locked onto one of the performers. It was her—dressed in a costume that was an exact replica of Noxelia, the avatar that your companion had meticulously created. She stood front and center, illuminated by the spotlight, her presence magnetic, drawing every gaze toward her. The vibrant colors of her outfit were vivid, each intricate detail expertly crafted, a perfect mirror of everything you adored about the design and the mysterious girl who played it.

A knot formed in your chest as a startling realization hit you like a tidal wave: the girl who had been your cherished companion in the virtual world, your confidante and battle partner, was standing before you, not just as Noxelia, but as a famous idol beloved by thousands. The revelation sent your thoughts spiraling. How could the two worlds—your quiet, private connection with Noxelia and the glitzy, public persona of this star—exist in harmony? What could you, an ordinary guy, possibly offer her when she was surrounded by adoration, fame, and people who hung on her every word? The divide between you felt impossibly vast.

Moments after the electrifying performance, Nari grabbed your hand, her excitement contagious as you hurried toward the fan meet. Her eyes sparkled, her face glowing with joy as she practically bounced with each step, brimming with anticipation to meet her idols. But your mind was a storm of anxious thoughts, the weight of the revelation sinking in. You could hardly hear Nari’s enthusiastic chatter over the sound of your racing heartbeat. Each step toward the meet-and-greet felt heavier, the distance between you shrinking yet your internal turmoil growing. You were walking toward the girl who had been the source of so much of your happiness, but also the cause of your most nagging insecurities. What would she think of you when you finally stood face-to-face? Would she even piece the puzzle together? The reality of your encounter loomed, and your thoughts buzzed in a relentless loop as you approached her, the line shortening with every breath.

“Heejin-unnie! Don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite!” Nari exclaimed as you reached the front of the line, her eyes sparkling with pure admiration. “I’ve been practicing your dances!”

Heejin’s smile widened, warmth radiating from her as she leaned forward to respond. “Thank you so much for coming! I’m honored to be in the presence of royalty, my princess.” The moment felt surreal, watching your sister bask in the glow of her idol’s attention.

With excitement bubbling over, Nari gestured to herself and then pointed proudly at you. “I’m Nari, and this is Y/N oppa! He’s my favorite person in the whole world.” She leaned in closer to Heejin, whispering conspiratorially but loud enough for you to hear. “You take that spot when he ignores me to play that game with the goggles and tights.”

Your stomach twisted, a knot forming as heat flushed your cheeks. You glanced nervously at Heejin, silently praying she wouldn’t pick up on the meaning behind Nari’s innocent words. For a brief moment, Heejin’s smile faltered, and her brows knitted as she exchanged glances between you and your sister, a hint of confusion in her expressive eyes.

“Goggles and tights?” Heejin echoed, her voice playful yet laced with curiosity.

Nari nodded enthusiastically, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you. “Yeah! He plays it all the time. I even helped him make his character. Sometimes I sneak into his room because he looks so funny wearing all the gear.” She giggled, eyes bright with mischief.

Your face turned beet red; the spotlight of embarrassment was nearly unbearable. Heejin's expression shifted slightly, her skepticism apparent, but she quickly masked it with her trademark smile. Just as you thought you might escape unscathed, Nari tugged on your arm, her excitement palpable.

“Oppa! Show Heejin-unnie the thing!” Nari insisted, her words bubbling over with excitement.

You hesitated for a moment, knowing that revealing this secret could invite scrutiny you weren’t prepared to face. Still, your sister’s eager eyes left you little choice. With a reluctant sigh, you parted the front of your cape, revealing the array of sparkles that Nari had enthusiastically added to your knight costume. The shimmering details mirrored the intricate designs of your avatar’s armor in the game that had brought you and Heejin together.

Heejin’s eyes widened, flickering down to the sparkles as surprise shifted to realization. Her expression changed subtly—her lips parted slightly, and her brow arched as though a light had just switched on. The puzzle pieces clicked into place, and you felt the weight of her understanding settle over you.

No words were exchanged in that charged moment, yet the unspoken acknowledgment hung between you like a fragile thread. Heejin kept her composure, a soft smile curving her lips as Nari continued to chatter happily about her favorite dances. But the atmosphere had changed, carrying a subtle current that both excited and unsettled you.

As Nari giddily thanked Heejin, you felt a shift in your dynamic with the idol. You caught Heejin’s gaze lingering as she finished signing a poster for your sister, a silent echo of the connection you had shared in the game. That bond was now tangled with the reality of her stardom and your ordinary life. Would you remain just another player in her world, or had you crossed into something more significant? With a quiet sigh of relief and uncertainty, you stepped aside, wondering how this new chapter would unfold.

Unbeknownst to you, Heejin’s mind was a storm of thoughts, she began formulating a plan in her head while connecting the dots between your shared moments in the virtual world and the reality before her. The quiet understanding that had passed between you left her intrigued and curious about the path ahead.

-----

As you and Nari were about to leave the venue, one of the staff members approached you with a smile.

“Excuse me, sir? Heejin-ssi wanted to know if you and your sister would like to come backstage for a private meet-and-greet,” the staff member said politely.

Nari’s eyes lit up with pure joy, her excitement overflowing. “Really?! Oppa! We get to meet them again!”

Caught off guard, you glanced at the staff member, then at Nari, who was practically jumping with excitement. “Uh... sure,” you said hesitantly, feeling your nerves spike. You weren’t sure why Heejin wanted to see you both again, but Nari’s happiness was impossible to deny.

As you and Nari followed the staff member backstage, her excitement was palpable. She couldn’t stop bouncing on her feet, her little princess crown slightly askew as she held your hand tightly. You were led into a private room where the rest of the ARTMS members were hanging out after the event, casually chatting and relaxing in their costumes.

When you entered, the girls looked up, clearly surprised to see two new faces.

“Who’s this?” Jinsoul asked, her brow raised in curiosity as she eyed you and Nari.

Kim Lip, lounging on a couch, tilted her head. “Did we invite guests?” she asked, glancing at Heejin, who stood just behind you and Nari.

Nari, oblivious to the confusion, immediately ran up to the group, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Unnie, we met earlier today, and Heejin unnie brought us back” she announced.

The girls exchanged amused glances at Nari’s enthusiasm, though they were clearly still puzzled by the situation.

Heejin smiled warmly at Nari, then looked at her members. “Sorry for the surprise, but... I need to talk to my friend about something privately. Could you all keep an eye on Nari for a few minutes?”

At first, the girls seemed a bit unsure, but the moment they looked at Nari—who was grinning up at them with wide, eager eyes—they couldn’t resist.

“Oh, of course” Choerry said, kneeling down to Nari’s level. “We’ll have so much fun, won’t we, Nari?”

Nari clapped her hands excitedly. “Yay! I get to hang out with all the pretty unnies!”

Heejin smiled gratefully, her heart warmed by how quickly the girls took to Nari. But as she turned to you, her expression shifted. There was a quiet intensity in her eyes, an unspoken tension simmering just beneath the surface.

“Let’s go,” Heejin said softly, her voice steady yet charged with something more.

Sensing the shift in the air, you nodded and opened the door for her. You followed her into a quieter, smaller room down the hallway. As you closed the door behind you, a thick silence settled over the space. Neither of you spoke for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you.

Turning back to face her, you asked, “So, Noxelia, your real name is Heejin?”

Before you could finish your sentence, Heejin moved. In an instant, she crossed the small distance between you and threw herself into your arms, cutting you off with a fierce, passionate kiss. Her lips met yours with a hunger that had been building for weeks, a need restrained by the boundaries of the game but now unleashed without limits. The sensation of her body pressed against yours was overwhelming, and for a moment, your mind went blank as you lost yourself in the kiss.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her closer as you deepened the kiss, matching her intensity. The kiss was raw, filled with all the pent-up emotions you hadn’t been able to express in Infinity. The passion, the longing—it all came crashing down in this moment, unrestrained and real in a way the game could never allow.

Heejin’s hands slid up your chest, trying to hold on to your costume as if anchoring herself to you. It was so different from the touches you had shared in the virtual world—this was real, tangible, electric. You could feel her heartbeat through her body, her breath warm against your skin as you kissed like you were making up for all the time you had held back.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, your forehead rested against hers, your breathing heavy in the quiet room.

“That’s... what we couldn’t do in the game,” Heejin whispered, her voice barely above a breathless laugh.

You chuckled softly, still holding her close, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah. We couldn’t.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still pressed together, savoring the closeness. Everything you hadn’t been able to express in the game—the connection you had built, the tension that had grown between you—was finally being released.

As Heejin’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your gaze, there was something in them now that wasn’t just desire—it was understanding, a shared recognition of what you had both been feeling all along. The virtual world had been a safe space for you to explore your emotions, but this... this was real, raw, and far beyond anything you could have experienced in Infinity.

Heejin’s fingers slid from your chest to the collar of your costume, gently tugging at it. Her eyes remained locked on yours, but there was a new determination in them. Slowly, she began unfastening your knight’s armor, peeling it away as if removing the final barrier separating you from reality. The metaphor wasn’t lost on either of you—it was as though you were stripping away the layers of your avatars, your game personas, to reveal the people you truly were underneath.

You felt your breath catch as her fingers worked their way down, exposing more of your costume piece by piece. The air around you seemed to thicken, charged with the tension that had been building for so long. Every piece of armor that came undone felt like peeling back another layer of the virtual world you had once hidden behind.

Heejin’s hands moved deliberately, her touch light but charged with anticipation as she pushed the rest of your costume off, letting it fall to the floor. Your skin tingled where her hands had been, and for a moment, you just stood there, drinking each other in. Without the game between you, every movement felt more intense, more intimate.

Your hands moved instinctively, reaching for the violet armor. Your fingers brushed against the painted foam as you began lifting it, and she raised her arms to help you remove it. As the material slipped over her head and joined your costume on the floor, your eyes met again, and the reality of the moment hit you both. This wasn’t a fantasy anymore—it was real.

The tension between you crackled as your hands began to explore one another’s bodies, mapping out the skin that was previously an avatar. Each touch was deliberate, each caress more intimate than anything you had shared in Infinity. It was as if you were finally free to feel everything you had only imagined in the game.

Heejin’s breath hitched as your hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer. She could feel the heat of your skin against hers, the rhythm of your heartbeat matching her own. It was different from the game—the sensations were more raw, more intense. Every inch of her body was alive with anticipation.

Slowly, your hands moved to her back, unclasping the layer of fabric that separated you. As her undergarments fell away, Heejin leaned into you, her lips finding you again. The kiss was slower this time, more deliberate, as you savored the feeling of being together without the virtual barrier.

“This...” Heejin whispered between kisses, her voice soft but filled with meaning. “This is what we were missing.”

Your hands roamed her body, your touch sending shivers down her spine. “Yeah,” you murmured, your voice low and breathless. “We don’t have to hold back anymore.”

The world outside faded away, leaving only you and Heejin, wrapped in a warmth that felt both profound and familiar. Every touch, every kiss held an unspoken promise, slowly dismantling the barriers of your virtual past and grounding you in the undeniable reality of this moment.

You pulled her close, sinking gently onto the soft floor, her breaths mingling with yours as the heat between you intensified. Here, in this quiet sanctuary, there was no pretense—just two people, stripped of all facades, exposed and vulnerable in the most beautiful way. This was a release of everything you’d been holding back, a connection neither of you could deny any longer.

Your lips brushed over her neck, coaxing a soft gasp from Heejin as her hands tightened around you, as if to steady herself in the vivid reality of the moment. Every kiss was a new discovery, an exploration of the person you had known deeply but were now feeling in a way you’d only dreamed of. Your hands drifted slowly down her body, savoring the warmth and softness of her skin. Heejin’s breath grew heavier, her body arching into you with each touch.

Heejin’s fingers wove into your hair, pulling you into a kiss that was both tender and charged with a deep, unspoken need. Her lips moved over yours with a mix of softness and intensity, as if savoring every moment of closeness. When her kisses traveled to your neck, you felt a warmth bloom between you, a gentle urgency in every touch that deepened the connection you both shared.

As a response, you let your lips trail down her body, leaving soft kisses along her chest and midriff. Her skin was warm and inviting beneath your lips, each kiss a way of conveying everything you felt. You continued slowly, savoring each inch, feeling her body respond to your touch.

When you reached her folds, you lingered, savoring the warmth of her body as you moved closer, your breath warm against her skin. Her taste was subtle and intoxicating, a hint of sweetness that seemed to draw you further into the intimacy, deepening your own arousal. The soft, responsive way her body moved beneath your touch only heightened your senses, each gentle shiver urging you onward as you let your kisses and touch communicate everything words couldn’t express.

A soft moan escaped Heejin’s lips, her fingers tightening in your hair as her breath quickened. Her sounds were quiet at first, then grew as she arched into you, each moan revealing her pleasure, her body attuned to every movement. Her voice, soft yet unmistakably filled with longing, filled the room, wrapping around you, encouraging you, drawing you closer.

Every movement was careful, deliberate, as you lost yourself in the closeness, the way her body responded to your touch. Her taste lingered on your lips, her scent surrounding you, blending with the warmth that continued to build between you, heightening the intensity with each passing second. Heejin’s soft moans became a melody, matching the rhythm of your shared connection, pulling you deeper into the moment.

In this timeless moment, there were no avatars, no screens—just the two of you, fully present, experiencing the depth of your bond in a way that was breathtaking and real. The intensity of your shared desire blended seamlessly with the vulnerability you both offered, crafting a connection that was as unforgettable as it was profound.

Heejin's eyes fluttered open, locking with yours as you positioned yourself between her parted thighs. Her pulse quickened, her body trembling with anticipation. "I want you," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need you."

Your gaze softened, your thumb gently brushing away the tear that had escaped down her cheek. "I'm here," you murmured, your lips ghosting over hers. "I'll always be here for you, Heejin."

With a gentle thrust of your hips, you entered her, your eyes never leaving hers as you began to move. Heejin's fingers dug into your shoulders, her nails leaving faint crescent-shaped marks on your skin. A soft moan slipped past her lips as you filled her completely, the sensation unlike anything she had ever known.

You moved together, your bodies rocking in a slow, sensual rhythm. Your lips found the sensitive spot beneath her ear, your teeth grazing the delicate skin as you kissed and nipped along her neck. Heejin's hips lifted to meet yours, her body arching into your touch like a bow drawn taut.

The coil of pleasure within her tightened with each thrust, each caress of your hands on her skin. Your breath grew ragged against her ear, your movements becoming more urgent as you chased your shared release. Heejin could feel her own climax building, the heat within her threatening to consume her entire being.

"I'm close," you rasped, your voice strained with the effort to hold back. "Heejin, tell me when you're ready. I want to feel you come undone beneath me."

Heejin's nails raked down your back, urging you on as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy. "Dont stop" she gasped, her head falling back against the pillow. "I'm so close. Please, don't stop."

Your hips snapped forward, your thrusts becoming harder, faster as you felt Heejin's body begin to tighten around you. You covered her lips with yours, swallowing her cries of pleasure as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Heejin's body trembled and shook with pleasure as she reached her peak, her fingers digging into your back as she held onto you for dear life. Her breath hitched as she cried out, her pussy clenching and spasming around your length as she came undone beneath you.

The sensation of Heejin's climax enveloped you, utterly overwhelming as you found yourself beyond the point of restraint. With a final, profound plunge, you reached the pinnacle of your own pleasure. As you withdrew, your essence flowed forth, cascading across her folds, trailing up her torso to her stomach, and finally gracing her breasts with a warm, intimate embrace.

Your body shuddered as you caught your breath, your hips still jerking slightly as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. You pressed your forehead against hers, your heavy breathing syncing up as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together.

The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breaths and the lingering scent of your lovemaking. Your heart raced in your chest as you looked into Heejin's eyes, seeing the same intensity and passion reflected back at you.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips as you both came down from your high. Pulling her close, you held her tightly against you as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared climax. It was a moment you knew you would never forget.

You remained intertwined, your bodies still joined, hearts beating in sync as you slowly drifted back down to earth. Your hand sought out Heejin’s, fingers intertwining as you brushed a sweat-dampened strand of hair from her face.

Heejin rested her head against your chest, tracing gentle circles on your skin with her fingers as you both caught your breath. There was a sense of calm between you now, a peaceful silence that spoke volumes about what you had just shared.

You stroked her hair softly, your heart still pounding in your chest, but there was a new sense of ease in how you held each other. You had peeled away all the layers of your virtual world and stepped fully into reality, facing the rawness of your feelings without hesitation.

“This,” Heejin whispered, her voice soft yet filled with meaning. “This is more than I ever imagined.”

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah,” you agreed, your voice low and tender. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

As the soft light of the room dimmed around you, the weight of your shared reality settled in, more tangible than any moment you had experienced in the game. There were no barriers left—no pixels, no layers of code, just your hearts and bodies, fully exposed to one another.

You pressed another soft kiss to Heejin’s forehead, the warmth between you undeniable. As you lay there, content in each other's presence, reality began to creep back in. You had crossed the boundary from virtual to real, and now, there was no turning back.

Heejin looked up at you, her eyes still bright with affection. "What happens now?" she asked, her voice quiet but filled with hope.

You smiled, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "I think," you began, your tone steady, "we make sure this becomes part of our real lives. Not just some moment, but something we build on. You and me."

Heejin’s heart swelled at your words, her hand gently squeezing yours. "I want that, too," she whispered, her smile reflecting yours.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you sat up, your body still warm and glistening from the closeness you’d shared. "We should probably get back," you murmured, glancing over at Heejin with a soft smile. "The girls are still with my sister."

Heejin chuckled, sitting up beside you and brushing her hair back. "Yeah, I’m sure they’ve been spoiling her."

You rose to your feet and offered her a hand, helping her up. "She’s pretty cute," you said with a grin, "so I can’t really blame them."

You both laughed, and for a moment, you held onto each other’s gaze. The quiet understanding between you felt like the beginning of something real—something you both wanted to explore.

You helped clean her up before gathering your costumes, and together, you slipped into your outfits. The air was filled with a relaxed ease as you each adjusted your armor, side by side, occasionally stealing glances that held all the warmth of the moment you’d just shared. Heejin adjusted the last piece of her costume with a final, satisfied pat, flashing you a smile that seemed to mirror your own.

Once ready, you exchanged a look that needed no words. This was a new chapter for you both, and you felt the unspoken excitement of stepping into it together.

Hand in hand, you made your way back to the dressing room. The moment you stepped inside, Nari’s delighted voice filled the air as she spotted you. She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by Heejin's fellow members, who were all laughing and doting on her, filling the room with lighthearted chatter.

As soon as Nari wrapped herself around your leg, her face lit up with excitement. "Oppa! Unnie! There you guys are!" she chirped, her eyes bright with joy. "We are having so much fun, I learned how to do the splits" She looked up at you, clearly not ready for the day to end.

Heejin grinned at the sight, her heart warming at how easily Nari had fit in with her members. You smiled down at your sister, and though you hated to interrupt her fun, you knew it was time to leave.

"Thats amazing, Nari, but we have to say goodbye to the girl now," you said gently but firmly.

Immediately, Nari’s face fell. "Nooo, I don’t wanna go!" she whined, her hold on your leg tightening. "Can’t we stay longer?"

You glanced at Heejin, who gave you an understanding look, her eyes soft with affection. You smiled, then knelt down to meet Nari’s eyes. "I’m sure we’ll see them again soon," you said, your tone reassuring. "Promise."

Nari pouted but eventually relented, giving all the members a quick hug goodbye before holding your hand.

As Heejin walked both of you towards the door, the members exchanged curious glances. The second the door clicked shut behind you, the room exploded with excited whispers. Haseul leaned forward, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Okay, spill. Who was that?"

The other girls eagerly chimed in, all buzzing with questions.

Heejin, still feeling the lingering warmth of your hand in hers, blushed slightly but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. She glanced at the door, already missing you, then looked back at her members, trying to play it cool.

"That was a friend," she said, laughing softly as she shrugged. "We met online."

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #girl group smut #reader insert #male reader #artms smut #kinkvember #kinkvember 2024 #loona smut #heejin smut #jeon heejin smut #heejin x reader #jeon heejin x reader #heejin #jeon heejin

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1rose2auto3wreckin4 · 1 month ago

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“The phone is an insane drug—maybe the most insane one we’ve ever experienced—because it is directly related to a haptic sense; your sense of touch, which is your sense of intimacy. It involves itself with a virtual screen. It feeds your mind, your dopamine and all of these receptors through touch.

(This screen) Is the ultimate narcissism machine, it reflects you back to you, it makes you the central character in the social media narrative that you activate, engage in, observe and write the story (for).

It lets you communicate immediately with everyone you care about. It gamifies romance; or it just completely jumps the shark and shows you porn. This machine is insane (because) it completely rewires our brain; our pleasure centers; our expectations for what is communication”…”I think its an impossible addiction for us to move away from, I wish Steve Jobs were still alive so we could question him about it. And it seems transitional…”

-Eugene K on this pod i listen to

Forever seeing my phone as the narcissism machine after hearing this. This is all stuff I’ve heard before, but the self idolization and self promotion knob has been cranked up to 11 in the current social media landscape in this covert new way and it is so normal now that i have to remind myself of what’s really real which is that the phone is demonic

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tikitakatia · 1 month ago

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Barça: Player Mode — A. Putellas x Reader

"Initial Calibration"

Pt. 1

WC: 3.3k

Summary: Every match, glance and brush of her against you pulls you deeper in, until the world outside starts to feel less real than the pitch. You tell yourself it’s just data, but some programs can't be written off that easily.

You don’t open the box right away.

It stays in the center of your apartment like a deactivated time bomb carrying a meaningful silence. It's like it knows it’s not ordinary. Like it’s not just a simulation kit, but a door you’ve been itching to walk through again since the moment Alexia faded from the last match.

You take the slowest shower known to mankind, pull on a sweatshirt then pick at your dinner as you watch the box wearily, like it´ll grow some legs and jump you at any moment.

When you finally manage to find the strength to crack it open, it’s quiet. You see smooth layers of black foam, and each piece of equipment is tucked into its place like it was designed just for you. The haptic suit feels lighter than you remember. You slide it on slowly, each part fitting closer than it did in the museum, like the fabric already knows your shape. The gloves lock in with a soft click. You press the headset into place and feel it seal around your face like a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Then you hear a robotic voice.

“Welcome to Player Mode: Home Beta.”

“Initial calibration required. Please stand on the platform.”

Your body moves before your mind finishes processing. You step onto the motion plate, the one you installed earlier under the rug, and it adjusts beneath your feet, holding you steady. Your heart’s already ticking faster, but the system doesn’t seem to care.

“System check in progress. Standby.”

The lights dim and Camp Nou builds around you in silence.

The sound comes second. A low, ambient, wind moving across the pitch in the slow hush of evening. The stadium is empty. Sunlight drips across the sky in soft streaks of peach and gold, long shadows curling along the field like smoke. The floodlights are dimmed to a hum.

No fans. No noise. Just you and the air.

You take one step forward and your foot hits turf with a softness that makes your chest pull tight.

“Motion recognition active.”

“Walk to the center circle.”

You move. Your legs aren’t tired yet, but they feel something. Anticipation, maybe. Memory. The system walks you through the basic steps: running, turning, shifting your balance side to side. It feels clinical, even as your body moves like it knows what’s coming next.

Then the voice changes.

“Emotional calibration in progress.”

You stop breathing for a second.

Across the pitch, the tunnel lights flicker on.

You hear the sound first, the steady and unhurried clack of cleats on concrete.

Then she steps out into the field with all the certainty in the world, like she has never gone, like she’s always been here. No fanfare. No smile. Just Alexia, moving toward you in the quiet, golden hour.

Her face is neutral and focused, and her gaze cuts through the space between you.

“It’s great to see you back,” she says, voice smooth.

“Let’s win some trophies together.”

You don’t say anything. You laugh quietly to yourself. You’re already spiraling, and she’s not even doing anything. Just standing there and saying lines the system gave her.

“Look at me,” she says.

You do without even thinking about it.

“Stay still. We’ll sync your heart rate now.”

The air shifts and you hear it before you feel it, a soft thud in your ears, a second later than your own. Then again. Louder and closer as it's syncing. Your breathing evens and hers does too. Her shoulders rise when yours do and she blinks when you blink. It’s eerily beautiful and also very unfair.

Then she steps closer.

She lifts her hands and begins to touch you like she’s doing a pre-flight check. She lightly taps your shoulder, elbow, the small of your back and the rest of your body like she’s scanning you. The pressure is minimal and professional but your brain is not cooperating and your body starts to react anyway.

Then she reaches up.

She takes your face in her hands gently but firmly, and tilts your head just enough to meet her eyes.

Your knees nearly give out.

The haptics overfire in your chest, neck and face. It feels like heat, electricity and softness all at once. Her hands are warm, bigger than you imagined, and too steady. Your breath catches. Your heart stumbles and your fingers twitch at your sides.

She stares right into you.

And then, with zero inflection, like a system prompt she says:

“Heart rate increased.”

You let out something between a laugh and a wheeze. Your whole body wants to collapse into her. Or the turf. Maybe into the sun, you weren't sure yet.

She doesn’t react. Instead her hands drop and she steps back as if nothing happened.

“Touch registered. Response noted. Emotional sync confirmed.”

The next voice that returns isn’t hers, it’s the system’s again.

“Calibration complete. Save profile?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

She turns back to you, and this time her face doesn’t look neutral. It looks... open.

“Welcome back, Y/N.”

And just like that, she’s gone.

You tear the headset off five seconds after it ends.

You’re flushed, your mouth is dry, and the suit is suddenly too much. You peel it off slowly, breathing like you just finished a sprint, and sit there on the floor, staring at nothing.

You're not going back in tonight, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You needed to sleep or cry. Or scream into a pillow.

Maybe all three.

You spend most of the next day on autopilot.

You wake up and go through the motions. Coffee, emails, you even pretend to clean something and not one second of it feels real. You’re physically present, sure, but mentally? You’re still on that pitch. You’re still hearing your heartbeat sync to hers. You’re still standing under those fake-perfect sunset lights while she looked at you like you were the only person on the field.

You spend a full five minutes staring at your fridge before you realize you already ate. Everything just feels… dumb now. Small. Flat. Like how is anything supposed to feel real again after that? And the worst part, the absolute worst part is how incredibly, embarrassingly hot the whole thing was. You flop onto your bed and immediately pull a pillow over your face because you’re not okay.

She had both hands on your face. Like full palms. Like someone telling you to calm down in a movie before they kiss you or change your life. They were big. Not just big, they were “holy shit you could pin me to a wall” big.

Warm, soft and strong.

And her touch was like… measured. Gentle. But in control.

The kind of touch where you’re like: oh. okay. so I guess you’re in charge now.

And her eyes??? Hazel. Up close. So close you could count every fleck of gold. So close it felt personal. Like she could tell what you were thinking. Which is a nightmare because what you were thinking was extremely illegal and probably against the beta tester guidelines.

And THEN. The audacity. The absolute programmed audacity of her saying:

“Heart rate increased.”

Like girl??? No shit!!! Look at yourself!! Look at your face!!! Look at your hands!!! You’re out here touching me like we’re in some emotionally repressed, slow-burn enemies-to-lovers sports romance and then acting like it’s MY problem that I’m overheating????

You groan out loud. You’ve never been thirstier in your life and the worst part is she’s not even real. She’s code. Gorgeous, smug, perfectly responsive code.

You roll onto your side and look at the headset sitting on your desk.

It’s still there waiting with the manual next to it still unopened. You haven’t read a single page.

You tell yourself you’ll check it tomorrow. Right now, you're too busy trying to figure out if it’s normal to feel this horny and emotionally broken over a high-performance AI.

You know the answer.

You're logging in again tomorrow.

The game ends in a flurry of movement, fast passes, a final goal, then a whistle that cuts through the roar like a clean edge.

You don’t score, but you play well. You know you play well. Everything feels more connected now. The haptics fire with just enough intensity to trick your body into thinking it really did run five kilometers and you’re breathing like you earned it.

Aitana runs past you, grinning. “Nice recovery on that cross,” she says, tapping your shoulder.

Fridolina follows her, slicking sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. “You don’t stop, do you?”

Ona gives you a quick smile, then nods toward the sideline. “Come on. Locker room.”

You pause and try to play it cool. “Right, yeah. Totally.”

Ingrid jogs up from behind, patting your back as she passes. “Feels like you’ve been here longer than four games,” she says with a warm yet distant tone.

You want to respond but you don’t get the chance because Alexia’s suddenly beside you.

“Hey,” she says softly. Not game-mode sharp, but something gentler.

You fall into step next to her like your body remembers how.

“Locker room?” you ask, trying not to sound like a dumbass.

“That’s… new.”

She glances at you. “Beta version. Full facility access. So you get the whole picture and not just the games.”

You nod. “Cool. Yeah. Makes sense.”

She looks at you a little longer this time, then smiles.

“Kind of nice, right? To not disappear the second the whistle blows?”

You weren’t expecting her to say that.

You nod. “Yeah, it actually is.”

The hallway opens into a wide, bright locker room with white tile, wood benches and the Barça crest above the lockers like it’s watching over everything. You follow the flow of bodies and sit near the end, peeling off your gloves like you’re really going to shower here. Like this is your space.

The others are talking, laughing and moving around you but you’re barely listening.

Alexia drops down on the bench next to you, towel hanging loosely around her neck and she leans forward, elbows on her knees, and looks over.

“You played better today,” she says.

You blink. “Oh, thanks.”

She nods. “You read the midfield better. You’re starting to know where to be before the ball gets there.”

Your heart stutters and you try not to show it.

“Guess I’m learning.”

She gives a low, almost-smile.

“You’re good at learning.”

You look at her. Really look, and realize her eyes are lighter here. Not golden, not hazel, but something in between. Her skin’s still flushed from the run. Her voice is quieter than it was on the pitch. And even though she’s sitting like she’s resting, she’s present. Entirely. Like she’s still in the match, still reading the field.

Only now, that field is you.

You swallow hard. “You always watch this closely?”

She shrugs like it’s nothing. “Part of the program.”

But something about the way she says it makes your chest go stupid again.

You don’t know what to say after that, so you sit there in the hum of the locker room while she looks away, towel in hand, hair damp at the edges.

You forget, briefly, that you’re not supposed to want this so much.

You’re supposed to be testing a product.

The sim doesn’t fade right away this time. There’s no hard end. No white-out screen or sudden silence. You just stay, listening to the shuffle of cleats and low conversation, the sound of water running somewhere down the hall. You could log out.

But you don’t want to.

You don’t know how long you sit there next to her, saying nothing.

There’s no system prompt telling you to move. No fade-out. Just her beside you, quiet and real and close enough that you could reach over and..

You don’t.

Eventually, Alexia stands. Stretches. The sound of her cleats against the tile pulls you back to yourself.

She drapes the towel around her neck again and glances back at you, brows lifted slightly like she’s checking if you’re coming.

“You should walk out with me,” she says.

You nod. Too quickly.

She doesn’t wait for you to catch up. Just walks slowly enough that you can. You fall into step beside her again, the same way you did on the pitch. The hallway outside the locker room is quieter now. You pass framed jerseys, old team photos, a few doors you want to open but don’t.

Alexia looks ahead as she talks, like it’s nothing serious.

“Hope you liked that,” she says. “Most testers never make it this far.”

You glance at her. “Yeah? Why not?”

She shrugs. “People drop out early. Get bored. Think it’s just matches and goals. They don’t stick around long enough to see the rest.”

You nod, feeling the warmth bloom again in your chest.

“If you’re ready to head out, the car park’s that way.” She gestures ahead.

There’s no goodbye. No confirmation screen. Just her, pointing toward a set of heavy double doors at the end of the corridor. You walk toward them slowly, half-expecting her to follow.

She doesn’t. You look back once and see that she’s already turned away, walking the other direction.

The moment you step through the doors, the sim fades.

You’re back in your apartment before you even feel the headset lift. You’re still standing on the platform, sweat sticking the suit to your back, fingers curling like they’re still holding the edge of a locker bench.

You breathe in, then out and say her name once under your breath just to see how it feels now.

The next time you log in, it drops you mid-game again.

No countdown. No tunnel. Just the field under your feet, the weight of the boots on your legs, and the soft golden light curling across the pitch like the system’s figured out your favorite aesthetic. The crowd buzzes low and steady in the background, and your heart syncs to it without needing to try.

You’re tracking back on defense. Quick, sharp, locked in. Everything feels more responsive. When you shift your balance, the haptics register it like muscle memory. When the ball comes loose, your body already knows what to do.

You don’t score this time, someone else does, but you get the clean assist that leads to it. The whistle blows sharp and final, cutting through the sound like a ribbon, and you slow to a jog as the simulation eases into its post-match rhythm.

From across the field, Alexia claps once and calls out, “That’s it, read it early!”

Your chest pulls a little tight. You tell yourself it’s just feedback. Praise, nothing else. But your mouth still twitches into a small smile.

Back in the locker room, it’s familiar now. The lighting’s soft, the layout clean. Aitana passes you on the way to the benches, tossing you a nod. Frido offers a water bottle like you’ve been doing this for months. Ona drops next to Ingrid and unties her boots like it’s routine.

You make your way to the edge of the row and you barely sit down before Alexia brushes past, towel slung over her shoulder, hair already starting to curl from the sweat.

“You’re starting to read me better,” she says matter of factly.

“It’s faster now.”

You blink at her.

It doesn’t sound like much. Could mean anything. But the way she says it, low, casual and almost thoughtful, sits with you longer than it should.

She doesn’t stay. Just drops her gloves beside you and keeps moving.

Eventually, you follow. Out through the back hall, past the framed photos and kits, through the long stretch of hallway that leads to the car park. She doesn’t walk you this time. She just gestures toward the doors like you know the way now.

You step through.

The sim fades.

When you take the headset off, you swear your heart’s still beating to the rhythm of her voice.

Your hands move without thinking. You check the console screen out of habit, expecting the usual post-match breakdown. But today, it looks different.

There’s the regular stuff, sure, match time, pass accuracy, stamina output. But then, below that, a new set of lines.

Emotional Index: 55%

AI Memory Progression: Adaptive Learning Enabled

User Anchor Profile: ACTIVE (Locked)

You stare.

You scroll.

Three new menu tabs are now visible, tucked in the corner of the dashboard like they’ve always been there.

Memory Archive.

Emotional Sync Tracker.

Custom Interactions – Locked.

You click on the archive first. Not because you mean to. Just because it’s there.

Inside, it plays back fragments of previous sessions. Highlight clips, movement sequences, even audio pulls. One is labeled

“User-Specific – Incomplete.”

You hover over but don't open it

At the top of the screen, a soft system notification fades in.

Thank you for completing your fifth session. Player-AI engagement intensity has exceeded the standard curve. Adaptive interaction pacing will continue to adjust.

Your finger hovers over the “more info” icon. You could dig deeper. Could look at the sync logs, the anchor settings, the memory timeline.

But you don’t.

You close the window instead. Lean back in your chair. Eyes on the screen, heart still caught somewhere back in that locker room.

You know you´re getting deeper into it, and you like that.

You land in the match like it’s nothing.

Another session. Another sun-washed pitch under your feet. The system’s loading times are seamless now. No voice prompts, no menu fades. Just you, the weight of your kit, and the thrum of noise around you that your brain already calls real.

The play’s fast today. You’re not leading it, but you’re inside of it. A cog in the right place. You don’t need to think anymore, you're starting to just move. Which is exactly why it catches you off guard when you hear her voice.

“You’re not hesitating at the turn anymore.”

You freeze for a fraction of a second. Not enough for anyone to notice, just enough for it to echo.

She said that before.

You remember it clearly. Session three. Midfield. You had barely known how to read the field back then. And today? You played differently. You were off position most of the time by design.

You push it down and keep moving.

After the goal, the sim doesn’t end right away. You’re back in the locker room again, sweat sticking to your neck, your muscles burning like they’ve actually done something. You’re untying your boots when she sits next to you.

Alexia.

Same towel, same post-match calm.

“You played slower today,” she says softly. “Not in a bad way. You were thinking more.”

You glance at her. “Was it that obvious?”

She shrugs, almost smiling. “You hold your breath before you pass.”

You blink.

It’s not said like a tease. It’s not said like she read it off your performance stats. It’s said like she’s been watching you closely over time.

You laugh too quickly. “Weird thing to notice.”

Alexia leans back against the bench. “I’ve seen you do it a few times.”

There’s no reason for that to matter. There’s no reason for her to remember that.

She looks at you then, full-on. Not like a teammate. Not like a program.

Like a person.

Then, quietly: “What made you try that cross in the second half?”

You stop breathing just for a second.

“What?”

She turns her head away, like she didn’t notice how that landed. “It was different. I wasn’t expecting it.”

You don’t answer but your pulse kicks a little harder under your skin.

She doesn’t ask anything else. Just stands, drops her towel into the bin, and heads for the back corridor.

When you leave through the car park, the doors open slower than usual.

The sim fades like it always does. But this time, it takes longer to let go.

You pull the headset off with shaking hands.

You tell yourself it was just an update. A system test. The AI probably logs behavioral changes now. It’s not weird. Not really.

But that?

“You hold your breath before you pass.”

You didn’t teach her that.

Pt. 3

191 notes · View notes

mcrdvcks · 3 months ago

Text

i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ you're too sweet for me

chapter summary: You and Jean come up with a playful bet that goes slightly out of hand.

word count: 9.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is actually quite a fluffy fun chapter - we have a few more "filler" chapters left before we get to some more important things!

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, fluff, cat, cat allergy, playful bet, implied ovulating/period, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, slight praise kink

series masterlist - chapter 9 → chapter 11

“Here,” you said simply, handing Logan the brand-new iPhone. He stared at the sleek black device like you’d just handed him an alien artifact.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, his brow furrowed in suspicion. His fingers brushed over the screen, but he didn’t press anything.

“You’re supposed to use it,” you replied, grinning at his hesitation. “It’s a phone, Logan. Welcome to the 21st century.”

He turned it over in his hands, clearly unimpressed. “My flip phone works just fine. Makes calls, takes messages. Why’d I need this fancy piece of crap?”

“Because,” you said patiently, sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter with your own new phone in hand, “your flip phone doesn’t even have a battery life anymore. And this isn’t just a phone. It’s also a camera, a computer, and… well, it’s everything.”

Logan squinted at it, still unconvinced. “What do I need all that for? I don’t even like computers.”

You laughed. “You don’t have to like it. But you’ll get used to it. Trust me, once you figure out texting, you’ll never go back.”

He grunted in response, swiping his thumb experimentally across the screen. It didn’t do anything. “How’s this damn thing even work?”

“Okay, okay,” you said, hopping off the counter. “Let me show you.” You stood beside him and reached for the phone, your fingers brushing against his as you took it.

“First, you tap here to turn it on.” You pressed the side button, and the screen lit up. Logan flinched slightly, then scowled at the glowing Apple logo.

“Great. Now it’s starin’ at me,” he muttered.

You stifled a laugh. “It’s booting up. Once it’s on, you’ll see the home screen, and from there, you can—”

The phone buzzed in your hands, and Logan jerked back like it had shocked him. “What the hell was that?”

“It’s just the haptic feedback,” you explained. “It vibrates when you touch certain things. Don’t worry, it’s not going to bite you.”

Logan’s glare deepened, but he didn’t stop watching. When the screen finally loaded, you handed the phone back to him. “Here. Try unlocking it.”

He hesitated, then tapped the screen the way you had. It didn’t respond.

“No, you have to swipe,” you said, guiding his hand with yours. “Like this.” Together, you swiped across the screen, and it opened to the home screen.

“See? Easy.”

Logan grunted again, still not convinced. “So what now? How do I make a damn call?”

“Okay, let’s start simple. See the green icon with the phone? Tap that.”

He did as you said, his finger pressing down awkwardly on the screen. When the keypad appeared, he gave a small nod, clearly relieved. “Alright. This I get.”

“Good,” you said, smiling. “Now you just punch in a number, and when you’re done, hit the green button again to call. Easy.”

He muttered something under his breath but seemed to be following along. After a few moments, he handed the phone back to you. “Still don’t see the point.”

“Because it’s not just for calls,” you reminded him. “Here, let me show you how to text.”

“Text?” he repeated, his tone laced with skepticism.

“Yes, Logan. Text. It’s how people communicate now.” You opened the messages app and started a new message, typing out a quick “Hi” and sending it to yourself. When your phone buzzed in your pocket, you pulled it out and showed him.

“See? Now you can send me messages instead of yelling from the other room.”

Logan smirked. “But yellin’ works just fine.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

“Nah,” he said, slipping the phone into his pocket. “Just old-fashioned.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his cheek but staying at his side with your arms around his waist. “You know how you always complain about being only able to hear my voice when you’re on a mission? Now, you can video call me.”

Logan raised a skeptical brow, glancing down at the phone still tucked into his pocket. “Video call? Sounds like somethin’ outta Star Trek.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for your own phone. “It’s not that complicated. Look, I’ll show you.” You tapped a few buttons, and within moments, Logan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out like it was a ticking time bomb.

“It’s just me, Logan. Answer it.”

He frowned, poking at the screen. “Which one do I press?”

“The green button,” you said, trying not to laugh as his finger hovered over the wrong icon.

After a few seconds of fumbling, he finally managed to tap it. Your face popped up on his screen, the image slightly grainy but clear enough. Logan stared at it, his brows furrowing deeper.

“There. Now you can see me,” you said, grinning.

Logan tilted the phone away like he didn’t trust it, his gaze shifting from the screen to you. “Why would I wanna see you on a little box when I can just see you in person?”

You snorted, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Because sometimes you’re halfway across the country, grumpy old man. And maybe I miss you.”

His expression softened slightly, though his gruff exterior remained intact. “You miss me, huh?”

“Of course, I do,” you replied, nudging him playfully. “Not that I’d admit it to your face.”

“Too late,” Logan muttered, his lips quirking into a small smirk. He glanced back at the screen, his thumb brushing over it lightly. “So this thing’s not completely useless.”

“High praise,” you teased, closing the app on your phone. “See? You’re already learning.”

He let out a low chuckle, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. Still don’t like this thing.”

“Noted,” you said with mock seriousness, patting his chest. “Now, can we go out for lunch? I’m starving.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he replied, slipping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you headed for the kitchen.

---

While you were grading papers before your next class, Logan walked in, his brows scrunched at his phone. “What the hell is this?”

Logan held the phone out like it might explode at any second. The screen was open to a message from Jubilee, a chaotic string of emojis: 🎉✨🔥👩‍🎤🌈🐱🛸.

“What the hell is this supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice edged with irritation. He frowned at the tiny icons as if they had personally offended him. “Is this even English?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose as you glanced at the screen. “It’s emojis, Logan. They’re… expressive.”

“Expressive, huh?” He squinted at the screen, unimpressed. “Looks like she smashed her face into the keyboard.”

“Well, it’s Jubilee. What did you expect?” you teased, taking the phone from his hand to get a better look. “She’s probably excited about something.”

Logan crossed his arms, his frown deepening. “Then why not just say it? What’s the point of all this… nonsense?”

“Because it’s fun,” you explained with a shrug. “Sometimes words aren’t enough. Emojis add personality.”

He snorted. “Personality, my ass. Looks like a damn hieroglyphic puzzle.”

You chuckled, handing the phone back to him. “Just text her back and ask what she means.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Logan grumbled, poking at the screen clumsily. “This thing barely listens to me.”

“It’s not voice-activated,” you said with an exasperated smile. “Here, I’ll show you.” You stepped closer, your hands brushing against his as you took the phone again. “Tap here to start typing.”

He watched as you opened the keyboard, his expression skeptical. “And what? Just start pecking at it like a chicken?”

You stifled a laugh. “Pretty much. Or you can use the voice-to-text feature if you want. It’ll transcribe what you say.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Transcribe? You’re makin’ it sound fancier than it is.”

“Okay, fine,” you said, grinning. “It writes down your grumpy muttering. Better?”

“Much.” He leaned over your shoulder, watching as you demonstrated how to use the feature. His proximity made your heart skip a beat, though you did your best to focus on the task.

“See? Easy,” you said after dictating a quick test message. “Just press the little microphone icon and speak.”

Logan eyed the phone like it might bite him. “You’re tellin’ me this thing’s smart enough to understand me?”

“It is,” you assured him, holding back a laugh. “Give it a try.”

With a reluctant sigh, Logan tapped the microphone icon. “Jubilee,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “what the hell do all those pictures mean?”

The phone transcribed his words perfectly, and you grinned as you hit send. “See? Not so bad.”

He grunted, crossing his arms again as he waited for a response. A moment later, the phone buzzed with Jubilee’s reply: “LOL Logan! It means ‘party time, let’s rock, cats rule, aliens are cool!’ 🎸🐾👽✨”

Logan stared at the screen, his frown returning. “Party time? Cats? Aliens? What the hell kinda conversation am I havin’ here?”

You laughed, patting his arm. “It’s Jubilee. You’re lucky she didn’t send you a meme.”

“What the hell’s a meme?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Oh, you’ll find out eventually,” you said, grinning. “For now, just stick with the basics.”

“Basics,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Textin’, emojis, memes… what’s next? The damn thing makes coffee?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, leaning into him as he slid the phone back into his pocket with an annoyed grunt. “You’re doing great, Logan. One step at a time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, though there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t expect me to start usin’ this thing all the time.”

“Of course not,” you said, still smiling. “But admit it—it’s not as bad as you thought.”

He didn’t respond, but the flicker of amusement in his eyes was enough for you.

---

“Why’d ya call me in here?” Rogue asked, standing outside Jubilee’s room.

“Well… me and Kitty went into town and came across something. Come in.” Jubilee opened the door just enough for Rogue to walk inside before closing it.

"Aw, poor thing," Rogue murmured as she stepped closer to Kitty, who cradled the small black cat in her arms. Its fur was scruffy, and a small scab marred its leg. The cat let out a weak meow, and Rogue's expression softened even further. "Where’d y’all find it?"

“Behind that old diner downtown,” Kitty explained, stroking the cat’s head gently. “It was just sitting there, all alone. We couldn’t just leave it.”

“Yeah,” Jubilee chimed in, folding her arms. “It’s clearly seen better days. Probably hasn’t eaten in a while.”

Rogue raised an eyebrow. “Y’all know we’re not allowed to have pets, right?”

Jubilee waved her hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, but c’mon, Rogue. Look at this little guy. We can’t just kick him back out there.”

Kitty nodded fervently. “We’ll keep him hidden. Nobody has to know.”

Rogue sighed, her resolve already weakening. “Fine. But if we get caught, this is on y’all.”

“Deal!” Jubilee grinned. “Now, we just need to figure out where to keep him.”

---

For a few days, things went smoothly—or as smoothly as they could with three girls sneaking a cat around the mansion. They took turns feeding and caring for it, stuffing it into backpacks or under blankets anytime they heard footsteps in the hallway.

But then, the sneezing started.

You rubbed at your nose, frowning as another sneeze tore through you. “This doesn’t make any sense,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Spring allergies don’t usually hit me like this.”

Logan glanced up from the newspaper he was reading at the kitchen table. “You okay, darlin’? You’ve been sneezin’ all morning.”

“I don’t know.” You sniffled, grabbing a tissue. “I woke up like this. It’s weird.”

He gave you a once-over, his brow furrowing. “Maybe you’re comin’ down with somethin’.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, blowing your nose. “I feel fine otherwise. Just… stuffy.”

Jean walked in then, grabbing a cup of coffee from the pot. “Morning, guys. Y/N, are you okay? You sound congested.”

“I am,” you admitted, gesturing vaguely. “But it’s not a cold. It’s like I’m allergic to something all of a sudden.”

Jean frowned. “That’s strange. Did you change anything recently? New detergent? Perfume?”

“No, nothing.” You sighed, frustrated. “It’s probably nothing. I’ll just take an antihistamine and see if it helps.”

Logan didn’t look convinced, but he let it go for now.

---

Back in Jubilee’s room, the three girls huddled around the cat, who was now cleaned up and looking much healthier after a few days of care.

“I think we’re in the clear,” Kitty said, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “No one suspects a thing.”

“Yeah,” Jubilee agreed, though she looked slightly guilty. “Except… uh… maybe Y/N.”

Rogue’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“Well, she’s been sneezing a lot,” Jubilee admitted, wincing. “And I think… I think she might be allergic to cats.”

Rogue groaned. “Oh, great. Now what?”

“We just have to be more careful,” Kitty said quickly. “Keep the cat away from her. Maybe she won’t notice.”

Jubilee nodded. “Right. Easy.”

---

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. Over the next few days, your sneezing got worse, and Logan grew increasingly suspicious.

“Darlin’, this ain’t normal,” he said one evening as you sat on the couch grading papers, tissues scattered around you. “You sure there ain’t somethin’ in the mansion messin’ with you?”

“I don’t know,” you said miserably, pushing your glasses up your nose. “I’ve never had allergies like this before.” You tilted your head as you blew your nose, “I mean, I remember I had a reaction when my grandpa was fostering a cat, but that was when I was 12.”

Logan folded the newspaper, his brow furrowing as he watched you rub your nose again. “You remember, huh? The cat thing? From when you were a kid?”

“Yeah.” You sniffled and leaned back on the couch, tossing the tissue into the growing pile on the coffee table. “It was awful. I couldn’t breathe for weeks. Grandpa had to send the cat back to the shelter.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his instincts flaring. “Thinkin’ it’s a cat now?”

You shrugged, frustrated. “I don’t know, Logan. I haven’t seen a cat around here, and it’s not like anyone’s hiding one. It’s probably just a weird allergy flare-up.”

Logan didn’t look convinced. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ll take a look around, just in case. Mansion’s big, but nothin’ gets by me. If there’s somethin’ here, I’ll find it.”

“Logan, come on,” you protested, waving him off. “You’re overreacting.”

“Maybe,” he muttered, standing up. “But humor me, darlin’. If somethin’s makin’ you sick, I’m not lettin’ it slide.”

You sighed as he left the room, your glasses sliding down your nose as you pinched the bridge again. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

---

Meanwhile, in Jubilee’s room, the girls were scrambling.

“We’re in trouble,” Rogue hissed, pacing as Jubilee held the cat protectively against her chest. “Logan’s got a nose like a bloodhound. He’s gonna sniff this thing out.”

“Relax,” Jubilee said, though her voice was anything but calm. “We’ve kept him hidden this long. We’ll just double down. No more letting him wander around.”

Kitty frowned, glancing at the cat. “But what if Y/N’s really allergic? She’s been sneezing a lot.”

“She’s fine,” Jubilee said quickly, though the guilt was clear in her tone. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“Is it?” Rogue crossed her arms. “We need a plan. If Logan finds this cat, we’re done for.”

---

The sneezing didn’t stop. In fact, it got worse. Logan had been keeping an eye—and nose—on you, and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off.

One evening, after you’d gone to bed early with a box of tissues, Logan cornered Ororo in the kitchen.

“Something’s goin’ on,” he said, his voice low. “Y/N’s been sneezin’ her head off for days now, says it’s allergies, but she ain’t allergic to anything in this house.”

Ororo raised an eyebrow. “You think something’s triggering her?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, narrowing his eyes. “And I think it’s a cat.”

“A cat?” Ororo repeated, surprised. “Logan, there are no cats in the mansion.”

Logan leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Maybe not officially, but I can smell somethin’. Been catchin’ whiffs of it in the halls. I’m gonna find out who’s hidin’ it.”

Ororo sighed. “If there is a cat, we’ll deal with it. Just… don’t go tearing the place apart.”

Logan smirked. “No promises.”

---

The next day, Logan followed his nose. He caught a faint trace of something feline near the girls’ dorms and honed in on Jubilee’s room. He knocked once before pushing the door open without waiting for a response.

“Alright, what are y’all hidin’ in here?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

Jubilee froze mid-step, her eyes wide. Kitty quickly shoved the cat under a blanket, but Shadow let out a soft meow, betraying their secret.

“Damn it,” Jubilee muttered.

Logan’s eyes narrowed, and he sniffed the air. “Knew it. You got a cat in here.”

“We can explain!” Kitty blurted out, holding up her hands.

Logan glared at them, stepping fully into the room. “You do realize Y/N’s been sneezin’ her head off ‘cause of this, right? And cats ain’t allowed here for a reason.”

“We didn’t mean to cause trouble,” Jubilee said quickly. “We just… we couldn’t leave him. He was all alone, and he was hurt.”

Logan glanced at the lump under the blanket, his expression softening just a fraction. “Lemme see it.”

Reluctantly, Kitty pulled the blanket back to reveal Shadow, who blinked up at Logan with wide green eyes.

Ororo appeared in the doorway then, her arms crossed. “Logan, what’s going on?”

“Found the cat,” Logan said simply, nodding toward Shadow.

Ororo sighed, stepping into the room. “I’ll take care of it. I know someone who can give the cat a good home.”

Jubilee and Kitty looked crushed, but they nodded. “Okay,” Kitty said softly.

“Thank you for saving it,” Ororo added gently. “But next time, talk to me first.”

As Ororo left with Shadow, Logan turned back to the girls. “If this happens again, you’re all gonna be on clean-up duty for a month. Got it?”

“Got it,” they chorused.

---

That evening, as you sat on the couch feeling significantly less congested, Logan walked in and sat beside you.

“You were right,” he said, draping an arm over your shoulders.

“About what?” you asked, leaning into him.

“There was a cat,” he admitted, smirking.

You stared at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Kids were hidin’ it. Ororo’s takin’ it to a new home now.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Well, I guess that explains it.”

“Guess so,” Logan said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You feelin’ better now?”

“Much,” you said, smiling up at him. “Thanks, honey.”

“Anytime, darlin’.”

---

“I don’t think Scott will even notice,” Jean said, as the hairdresser trimmed her hair.

You sat next to her, but instead you were getting your nails done. It was something you’ve never done before, but since Jean wanted a trim you tagged along. “I don’t think Logan’d notice either,” you replied, referring to your manicure.

Jean snorted, “you kidding me? Of course he’d notice. He noticed that you were using a different bookmark.”

You rolled your eyes, a soft smile playing on your lips. “It’s a completely different thing, Jean. My bookmark literally had sparkles. Scott’s not going to miss a haircut. Haircuts are major.”

Jean leaned back in her chair as the hairdresser put down the scissors. “Alright, Y/N. Let’s make it interesting. If Logan notices your nails before Scott notices my haircut, you owe me a week of grading those awful pop quizzes.”

“And if Scott notices first,” you countered, raising an eyebrow, “you’re in charge of my quizzes.”

Jean smirked. “Deal. You’re about to owe me big time.”

---

When the two of you got back to the mansion, you headed straight to the kitchen, where Logan, Scott, Ororo, and a few students were gathered. Logan stood by the counter, his arms crossed as he waited for the coffee to brew. His eyes immediately found yours as you entered the room.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted, his gaze dropping to your hands as you fiddled with the edge of your sweater. He tilted his head. “Nice nails. You don’t usually go for this kinda thing, but they suit you.”

You froze, your mouth opening slightly in shock. Jean had the audacity to grin next to you, clearly enjoying the moment.

“Thanks, Logan,” you muttered, feeling a slight heat rise to your cheeks.

Jean was practically bouncing on her heels as the two of you left the kitchen. “Told you!” she whispered triumphantly. “The man doesn’t miss a thing.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Scott hasn’t even seen you yet. It’s still anyone’s game.”

---

By the time dinner rolled around, Scott still hadn’t commented on Jean’s hair. You sat beside Logan at the table, glancing over at Jean, who was conspicuously brushing her hair back every few minutes to make it extra obvious.

When dessert was served, you leaned over to her and whispered, “Nothing yet?”

Jean sighed dramatically. “Not a word.”

Logan looked over at the two of you. “What’s with the whisperin’?”

“Nothing!” you said quickly, shooting Jean a warning glance.

Jean just smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, it’s something. Y/N owes me now.”

“Not yet,” you hissed back.

---

The following week, the bets continued.

“I’m telling you, Logan will notice,” Jean said, as she put on extra blush. You bet that Scott would be able to notice that her cheeks were rosier than usual.

“Jean, it’s a belt. One you can’t even see since my shirt covers it,” you responded, exasperated as you pulled the hem of your sweater down over the new belt she’d somehow convinced you to wear.

Jean smirked, brushing her freshly trimmed hair over her shoulder like the reigning queen of I told you so. “You underestimate your husband, Y/N. He’ll notice. Logan always notices. And when he does, I’ll be sitting pretty with zero quizzes to grade next week.”

“Jean,” you said slowly, adjusting your glasses and staring at her like she was mildly unhinged. “There is no possible way he’ll notice a belt. Unless it starts glowing or shoots lasers, it’s not happening.”

“Don’t act like you’ve forgotten. He clocked your new bookmark,” she shot back with a laugh, tucking her hands into her hoodie pockets. “Scott, meanwhile, couldn’t pick me out of a crowd if I wore a completely different outfit. You’re lucky this bet is low stakes because you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak.”

“Yeah, well, he still hasn’t noticed your haircut, so maybe don’t count your chickens,” you muttered.

“Oh, honey,” Jean teased with mock sympathy. “Let me know how that fantasy pans out for you.”

---

Later that evening, you were in the living room grading assignments when Logan strolled in, towel slung over one shoulder from a workout. His flannel was untucked, and his hair looked especially messy, which meant he'd probably gone a few rounds in the Danger Room. He grabbed a beer from the fridge before pausing, narrowing his eyes slightly as he looked at you.

You didn’t notice right away, too caught up in deciphering your students’ atrocious handwriting. Logan cleared his throat. “New belt?”

Your pen stalled mid-word, and you looked up at him with a mix of horror and disbelief. “How did you—?”

“Color’s different,” Logan said casually, gesturing with the bottle before sitting down next to you. He tipped his head, inspecting it with sharp, curious eyes. “Nice look. Suits you, darlin’.”

Jean, who had been walking by the open doorway, stopped just long enough to poke her head in. “Pay up,” she sing-songed before continuing down the hall.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Logan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” you grumbled, wishing you could sink into the couch and disappear.

---

The bets didn’t stop there. Jean was relentless in her ability to cook up increasingly obscure wagers on Logan’s observational skills. It turned into a kind of perverse sport, one where the stakes felt comically high despite how trivial the differences were.

One day, you and Jean went to the mall, and after the two of you walked out of the candle store, she pulled you across the walkway to a perfume store.

You smelt different perfumes—though you probably weren’t going to buy any, you always used the same one—when Jean came along with a small bottle. “Smell it,” she said, holding her spritzed hand to your nose.

You furrowed your brows, “that smells exactly like mine. Just a different brand.” Jean’s grin grew as you finally realized what her plan was. “There’s no way he’d notice! I can’t even tell the difference!”

“Well, let’s put it to the test shall we?”

The next morning, you spritzed on the new perfume Jean had chosen. It smelled so similar to the one you always wore that even you had to second-guess yourself. There was no way Logan would pick up on this. Jean, however, was practically vibrating with confidence when she caught a whiff of you in the hallway.

“Perfect,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Let’s see how long it takes.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “I’m telling you, he won’t notice. This is ridiculous.”

Jean tilted her head, her red hair catching the sunlight as she smirked. “We’ll see.”

---

By lunchtime, you were beginning to think you might finally win one of these bets. Logan had been around you all morning—at breakfast, during your shared training session with a group of students, and even in the library when he stopped by to drop off a book you’d left in your classroom. Not once had he made any comments about your scent.

When you met Jean in the kitchen for a quick snack, she raised an eyebrow at you. “Well?”

“Nothing yet,” you said smugly, popping a grape into your mouth. “Looks like I might actually win this one.”

Jean leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Don’t get cocky. He’s probably saving it for the perfect moment.”

“You sound way too confident for someone who’s about to owe me a week’s worth of grading,” you shot back, adjusting your glasses with a grin. “And don’t forget, Scott still hasn’t noticed your haircut from two weeks ago.”

Jean just shrugged, her confidence unshaken. “Scott’s a lost cause. Logan, on the other hand? He’s practically a bloodhound when it comes to you.”

---

Later that evening, you were curled up on the couch in the living room, grading papers with your glasses perched on your nose. Logan walked in, his flannel sleeves rolled up and his hair still damp from a shower. He settled into the armchair across from you, cracking open a beer and watching you with a lazy smile.

After a moment, he tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “You smell different.”

Your pen froze mid-sentence, and you slowly looked up at him. “What?”

Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied you. “Different perfume. It’s close to the one you usually wear, but not the same. Did you change it?”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “How… how could you possibly tell?”

He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I know you, darlin’. You’ve been wearin’ the same one for years. I like the new one, though. Smells nice.”

From the hallway, you heard a quiet but triumphant “Ha!” followed by the sound of Jean’s laughter fading as she walked away.

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Unbelievable.”

Logan chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “What am I missin’ this time?”

“Nothing,” you muttered, still hiding your face. “Just… nothing.”

---

Over the next few weeks, the bets escalated. Jean had an uncanny knack for picking the smallest, most inconsequential changes for Logan to notice about you—new socks, a slightly different shade of nail polish, even a replacement pair of jeans that were identical to your old ones. And each time, Logan noticed.

Meanwhile, your attempts to get Scott to notice Jean’s increasingly obvious changes were met with failure after failure. She even dyed a streak of her hair a darker shade of red, and Scott’s only response was, “did you change shampoos?”

By the end of the month, you were drowning in papers to grade thanks to losing every single bet. Jean, of course, was absolutely insufferable, though she did occasionally offer to take pity on you.

“You know,” she said one afternoon as the two of you walked to the garage for a supply run, “you could just admit defeat and stop betting.”

“And let you win without a fight?” you replied, narrowing your eyes at her. “Not a chance.”

Jean laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Suit yourself. Just don’t forget—Logan always notices, Y/N. Always.”

By mid-afternoon, you were in the study with Logan again, this time discussing a new training schedule for the students. He leaned over the desk, pointing out a few notes you’d written in the margins.

“Why’d you change this one?” he asked, tapping the paper.

You blinked, momentarily distracted by how close he was. “Huh?”

“This,” he said, gesturing to the note. “You usually write your reminders in blue ink, not black.”

You stared at him, completely floored. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Logan frowned, straightening up. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “Just… nothing.”

From the doorway, you heard Jean’s voice: “Another one bites the dust!”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

Jean strolled into the room, grinning like the cat who caught the canary. “Not a chance.”

Logan looked between the two of you, utterly bemused. “You two wanna clue me in, or are you just gonna keep bein’ cryptic?”

Jean patted his shoulder, still grinning. “Don’t worry about it, Logan. Just keep being you.”

As she walked out, Logan turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “What’s her deal?”

“Don’t ask,” you muttered, already dreading the next bet.

---

It finally got to a point where you just laughed at the predicament you found yourself in. Jean was crouched down on the floor, putting the smallest dot of white paint on your shiny black flats.

Even from your view, you couldn’t see it. The dot of white paint Jean had dabbed on your shiny black flats was so small it disappeared when the light hit your feet. You sighed, running a hand through your hair as Jean straightened up, a self-satisfied grin plastered on her face.

“This is getting ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Ridiculously fun,” Jean corrected, crossing her arms. “Come on, Y/N, this one is foolproof. There’s no way Logan notices.”

You gave her a flat look. “He noticed a belt. A belt, Jean. Do you realize how small this dot is compared to that? I can’t even see it!”

Jean shrugged, smug as ever. “Well, that’s why it’s the perfect test. He’s either superhumanly observant or…” She trailed off, her grin widening. “Well, actually, there’s no ‘or.’ He’s just superhumanly observant when it comes to you.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting your glasses as you stepped back. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

---

Later that evening, you were sitting in the library with Logan, your grading spread out across the table. Logan had a book in his hand, but you could feel his gaze flick to you every few minutes.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” he finally said, his voice low and gravelly.

“Just trying to get through these papers,” you replied without looking up, circling yet another wrong answer on a physics test.

Logan hummed, leaning back in his chair. A few seconds later, you caught him tilting his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

“What?” you asked, your voice tinged with suspicion.

He pointed toward your feet with his beer bottle. “You step in somethin’?”

Your heart sank. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s a white speck on your shoe,” Logan said, setting his beer down and leaning forward to inspect it closer. “Looks like paint.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “How…?”

Logan shrugged. “Hard to miss.”

From the doorway, Jean leaned casually against the frame, her arms crossed as she grinned. “And that,” she said, her voice dripping with triumph, “is why you never bet against me.”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Unbelievable. How do you do this every time?”

Jean just laughed, sauntering off down the hall. “It’s not me, Y/N. It’s Logan. He always notices.”

---

For the next few days, you tried not to think about Jean’s unbroken winning streak. You’d resigned yourself to the fact that Logan was apparently the most detail-oriented person alive—at least when it came to you.

“Y’know,” Logan said one evening as you both sat on the couch, “you and Jean seem to be schemin’ a lot lately.”

“We’re not scheming,” you said quickly, though your cheeks warmed under his knowing gaze.

Logan raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his beer. “Uh-huh. And these ‘not-schemes’ don’t have anything to do with you suddenly changin’ little things every day?”

Your eyes widened. “You noticed that too?”

“Darlin’,” Logan said with a smirk, leaning closer, “I notice everything about you.”

You groaned, covering your face. “I’m never going to win.”

Logan chuckled, pulling you closer as he kissed the top of your head. “Maybe stop bettin’ against Jean. Or just accept that I’ve got a soft spot for you.”

You peeked up at him, your heart softening despite your frustration. “You do, huh?”

“Biggest soft spot there is,” he said, his voice warm as his arms tightened around you.

For a moment, you forgot all about losing.

But only for a moment.

---

It all came to a head the next day, when you told Jean to wear a neon yellow jumpsuit, in hopes Scott would finally realize something.

But by the afternoon he still hadn’t said a single word.

You weren’t sure what overcame you, though usually when you berate or yell at someone it’s always Scott. The three of you were fixing one of the AC units outside, and after finishing you thought Scott would finally say something about Jean as he looked at the bright yellow outfit, but instead he said: “Wanna a drink?”

You grabbed Jean’s arm, pulling her to your side, your frustration finally boiling over. “No, she doesn’t. Maybe if you paid attention, she would.”

Jean blinked, clearly startled by your outburst. “Y/N—”

Scott cut in, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Is this about the things you’ve been changing?”

“What?” you and Jean said in unison. Jean added quickly, “You noticed? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Scott hesitated, running a hand through his hair, his gaze flicking between the two of you. “Because you seemed happy. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Jean’s mouth opened and closed a few times, her confident demeanor faltering. “You… didn’t want to ruin it?” she echoed, her voice softer now.

Scott shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I know I’m not great at noticing stuff like Logan is. But I saw you were having fun with Y/N, and I figured it was your thing. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Jean stared at him, her face a mixture of disbelief and something softer—something almost tender. “Scott Summers,” she said finally, crossing her arms over her bright yellow jumpsuit, “you are absolutely infuriating.”

Scott blinked, clearly thrown off. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t say anything!” Jean huffed, but there was no real heat behind her words. “You let me walk around in this—” she gestured to her jumpsuit, “—like a highlighter with legs, and you didn’t say a word?”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “You look good in it.”

Jean froze, her cheeks turning pink. “That’s not the point.”

Scott smirked faintly, clearly enjoying her flustered state. “Maybe not, but it’s true.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to hide your grin as Jean sputtered for a response. “Okay, fine,” she finally muttered, looking away. “But next time, say something.”

Scott stepped closer, his voice low and sincere. “Deal. But only if you promise not to bet against Logan anymore. He’s impossible to beat.”

Jean turned back to you, wide-eyed. “You told him?”

“I didn’t say a word!” you protested, holding up your hands.

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to. It’s not hard to figure out when the two of you are constantly whispering and sneaking around.”

Jean groaned, burying her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

You patted her on the shoulder, your smile softening. “At least now you know he notices, even if he doesn’t always say it.”

Jean peeked at Scott from between her fingers, her expression caught somewhere between annoyance and affection. “Fine. You win this round.”

Scott smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I always do.”

Jean rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. For all their differences, they made sense together.

As the three of you headed back into the mansion, Jean nudged you with her elbow. “So… what’s our next bet?”

You groaned, but you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love me for it,” Jean said with a wink.

---

Usually during this time of your cycle Logan could be… clingy. You knew it was completely unintentional; his senses could pick up the slightest change in your body, but the past few days he’s been more clingy and touchy than usual.

You, Jean, and Ororo were going out to a nice dinner spot, something that needed a slightly fancy outfit. You put on a pair of slacks, some flats, and a white shirt with structured bodice and a sweetheart neckline, complemented by gathered puff sleeves and a fitted waist.

You walked out of the bathroom, grabbing your purse and smoothing down your slacks as you made your way over to the bed. Logan was sprawled out on top of the blankets, one arm behind his head, the other holding a book that looked far too small for his hands. When he heard your footsteps, his gaze flicked up, and the book was immediately abandoned.

“Darlin’…” His voice was low and appreciative as his eyes swept over you. He sat up, his movements slow and deliberate, before standing and closing the space between you. His hands found your waist as his eyes lingered on your shirt. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, a soft laugh escaping you. “Is that your way of saying I look good?”

“More than good,” he said, his fingers tracing the edge of the bodice. His hands moved to gently spin you around, taking in every detail of the outfit. “Where’d you get this shirt?”

You started to answer, “I found it at—” but Logan’s hands were already toying with the puff sleeves, smoothing them out like they needed adjusting. His touch trailed lower, and he paused just below your collarbone, his fingers lightly brushing the fabric.

“It’s the sleeves,” he murmured, his tone teasing. “They’re distractin’.”

“They’re supposed to be,” you replied, tilting your head to look up at him. “It’s part of the charm.”

Logan smirked. “Oh, I get the charm, sweetheart.” His hands slid lower, adjusting the fabric around your waist before his palms rested over the sides of your ribcage. He gave a mock-serious nod. “There, now it’s perfect.”

You narrowed your eyes, fighting back a grin. “You’ve fixed it, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a deadpan expression, his fingers lightly brushing your sides. “Though I might need to check somethin’.”

Before you could reply, he carefully cupped the sides of your breasts, adjusting them ever so slightly in the bodice with an exaggerated level of precision. You gasped, batting his hands away as a laugh bubbled up.

“Logan!”

He grinned, completely unrepentant. “What? Just makin’ sure everything’s sittin’ right.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what you were doing.” You shook your head, trying to hide your laughter.

“Hey, don’t go accusin’ me of somethin’ I’m innocent of.” His tone was mock-offended, but the mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away.

“You’re impossible,” you said, smoothing your shirt back into place.

“And you love me for it.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You sure you don’t wanna stay in tonight? I can think of a few ways to pass the time.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Jean and Ororo are waiting for me, and I’m not about to bail.”

Logan sighed, stepping back reluctantly. “Fine. But you’re gonna turn heads in that outfit, darlin’.”

“Good,” you teased. “Maybe you’ll think twice before touching the sleeves again.”

He chuckled, leaning down for one last kiss before you headed for the door. “Have fun, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you get back.”

As you left, you couldn’t help but smile, already looking forward to telling Jean and Ororo about Logan’s antics.

---

You grabbed your short block heels from your closet and moved to sit on the ottoman to put them on. Before you could reach down, Logan was already kneeling in front of you, gently pulling the heels from your hands.

“I got it,” he said, his voice gruff but affectionate, his thumb brushing against your wrist briefly as he set the shoes on the floor.

You tilted your head, giving him a playful smile. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Logan ignored your protest, his focus entirely on slipping the first shoe onto your foot. His fingers worked deftly but with surprising care as if even this small act deserved his full attention. He adjusted the strap to make sure it sat just right before moving to the other shoe.

“I like takin’ care of you,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you rolled your eyes to cover it up. “It’s just shoes, Logan. I think I can handle it.”

He glanced up at you, his expression soft despite the smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t mean you have to.”

Once he finished with the second shoe, his hands rested lightly on your knees as he looked up at you, his eyes holding yours for a moment. There was something reassuring, grounding, about the way he looked at you—like you were the only person that existed to him in that moment.

“You’re fussier than usual this week,” you teased gently, brushing an errant strand of hair away from his face.

Logan chuckled, his thumbs drawing absentminded circles over your knees. “Might be because you’re distractin’ me.”

“Me? Distracting?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Damn right,” he replied, leaning in slightly as his voice dropped lower. “How am I supposed to focus when you’re sittin’ here, lookin’ the way you do?”

You laughed softly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of his head. “You know, most people would be flattered, but I think you just like causing trouble.”

He smirked, standing up and offering you a hand to help you to your feet. Once you were up, he let his hands settle on your hips, pulling you a little closer. “You figured me out, darlin’.”

“We’re going to be late,” you reminded him, but you didn’t make any effort to step away from him.

Logan’s brows furrowed as he leaned in to nuzzle against your temple. “Couple minutes won’t kill us.”

“It might if Ororo finds out why,” you said with a grin, earning a soft laugh from him.

He pulled back reluctantly, grabbing your blazer from where it hung on the back of the chair and holding it out for you. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s go. Can’t have you bein’ late for physics, now can we?”

You slipped into the blazer and grabbed your bag, smiling at him over your shoulder as you headed for the door. Logan stayed close behind, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as the two of you walked down the hall toward the classroom wing.

As you reached the corridor where your paths split, Logan leaned in for a quick but lingering kiss. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You smiled against his lips. “Try not to terrorize the students too much in your class, okay?”

“No promises,” he replied, smirking as he headed off toward the Danger Room for his class with Ororo. You shook your head, watching him go for a moment before continuing on your way, feeling lighter than you had in days.

---

Sitting next to Logan hadn’t been enough, neither was your legs on his lap. Instead, the perfect position for the two of you to be in was you straddling his lap, your book on his chest as you held it in place. When he first pulled you onto his lap, he had started to kiss you, but you were able to pull back and pout about not being able to read your book.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the room, highlighting the way your glasses perched on your nose as you concentrated on the book in your hands. Logan, however, had other plans. He leaned back against the couch cushions, his large hands resting lazily on your thighs as you straddled him.

At first, he was quiet, his sharp eyes tracking your expressions as you read. But Logan being Logan, he couldn’t sit still for long. His fingers began tracing absent patterns along your sides, drifting upward before sliding back down.

"Logan," you murmured, not looking up from the page.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" His tone was all innocence, but the way his hands tightened just slightly on your waist betrayed him.

"You’re supposed to be good," you reminded him, trying to focus as his lips pressed a kiss to the corner of your jaw.

"I am," he murmured against your skin, the scrape of his beard sending a shiver down your spine. "Haven’t moved, have I?"

Your lips twitched, fighting the urge to smile. "You’re moving right now."

"Don’t count, darlin’," he teased, his lips trailing down your neck, slow and deliberate. "Just enjoyin’ my wife while she’s sittin’ pretty on me."

You adjusted your glasses, willing yourself to stay focused as his kisses grew bolder, moving to your collarbone. His hands slid to your hips, steadying you as he shifted slightly, bringing you closer.

"Logan," you said again, though the firmness in your voice wavered.

"Yeah, darlin’?" This time his voice was lower, more gravel in it, and his lips skimmed just above the neckline of your nightgown.

You tried to ignore the heat spreading through you, gripping your book tighter. "You’re distracting me."

"Good." His lips curved into a grin against your skin before dipping lower. He pressed a kiss to the swell of your breast, just above the lace trim.

That was it. The book slipped from your hands onto his chest with a soft thud as you exhaled sharply. "I thought you were supposed to be good."

Logan pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I am," he said, his voice husky. Before you could respond, his hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you effortlessly.

"Logan!"

"I am bein’ good," he murmured as he carried you toward the bed, the playful glint in his eyes betraying his words. "Lemme show you just how good."

You didn’t even try to argue, not when his lips found yours, and his hands settled you onto the bed like you were something precious. He kissed you again, deeper this time, and you gave up any pretense of finishing your book. Logan’s weight shifted above you, one of his hands bracing against the mattress while the other slid along your side, tracing the curve of your hip.

You arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips traveled down your jaw, leaving a warm trail that made you shiver. “Logan,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” His lips curved into a grin against your neck, his beard scraping deliciously against your skin.

You didn’t have an answer—or at least, not one that didn’t involve him doing exactly what he was doing. His hands slid beneath the hem of your nightgown, rough fingertips tracing the sensitive skin of your thighs. Each touch was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

His lips found your collarbone, then lower, teasing the edge of lace that framed your chest. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped you, your hands gripping his shoulders as his fingers hooked beneath the thin straps of your nightgown, sliding them down your arms.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, his voice rough with affection. He kissed the curve of your shoulder, then moved lower, his lips brushing over the swell of your breast. You felt the cool air against your skin as the fabric pooled at your waist, but the warmth of his mouth more than made up for it.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the hem. “Off,” you demanded softly.

Logan chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through you. “Yes, ma’am.” He sat back on his knees, peeling his shirt off in one smooth motion before tossing it aside. His broad chest, covered in a scattering of scars and dark hair, was a sight you’d never tire of. He caught the way you were looking at him and smirked. “Like what you see?”

“Always,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended. Your shy tone made his smirk soften into something warmer.

He leaned down, kissing you again as his hands found your hips. He tugged the rest of your nightgown away, leaving you bare beneath him. The way he looked at you made your breath hitch—like you were the only thing that mattered.

“Logan…”

“Relax, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and soothing. His hands slid down your thighs, gently spreading them apart. He settled between your legs, his lips finding your inner thigh. “Let me take care of you.”

Your breath hitched as his kisses grew closer to where you ached for him most. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin just above your center.

“Logan,” you gasped, your fingers clutching at the sheets.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, and then his mouth was on you, warm and insistent. Your head fell back against the pillows, a soft moan escaping your lips as he worked you with a precision that left you breathless. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, teasing and tasting in a way that had your thighs trembling around his shoulders.

“Oh, God,” you whispered, your hands flying to his hair. He hummed in response, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.

Logan didn’t rush, taking his time as he built you higher and higher. His hands held you steady, his grip firm but not restrictive as he pushed you closer to the edge. When his tongue circled a particularly sensitive spot, your back arched off the bed, a sharp cry escaping you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, pulling back just long enough to speak before diving back in.

It didn’t take much more. With a soft, broken moan, you shattered, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Logan didn’t stop, his tongue and lips coaxing you through your release until you were trembling and gasping for air.

“Jesus, Logan,” you breathed, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

He grinned up at you, his beard glistening slightly. “Not done yet, darlin’.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you again, his tongue exploring you with renewed fervor. The overstimulation made you squirm, but Logan held you steady, his hands tightening on your hips.

“Logan, I—” Your protest dissolved into a moan as the heat began building again, faster this time. He worked you with an intensity that left you reeling, his lips and tongue driving you higher and higher until you were teetering on the edge once more. When you came again, it was with a cry that echoed through the room, your body trembling in his hands.

Logan finally pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before crawling up the bed to join you. His lips found yours in a kiss that was equal parts tender and hungry, his hands cradling your face as if you might disappear.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice rough but filled with concern.

You nodded, your cheeks flushed and your breath still coming in short gasps. “More than okay.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Good.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, a quiet intensity in his gaze. “Love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too,” you whispered, your voice shaky but sincere. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss.

As you pulled away he whispered against your lips, “was I good?”

You let out a small giggle, one you couldn’t hold back even if you tried. “Well… I’m not readin’ anymore…”

Logan’s smirk deepened, a spark of mischief lighting his dark eyes. “Good. That book’s been hoggin’ my girl all day.” His voice dropped an octave, thick with heat as he slid a hand up your side, tracing the soft curve of your waist.

“Logan,” you murmured, a warning that lacked any real bite. Your breath hitched when his hand dipped lower, brushing the inside of your thigh.

“Darlin’,” he rumbled, leaning in close enough for his lips to graze your ear. “Been thinkin’ about this all damn day. Couldn’t stop. You sittin’ there, all serious, those glasses makin’ you look so damn sweet…” His hand shifted, cupping your jaw to tilt your face toward him. His gaze burned into yours, equal parts desire and adoration. “But we both know how not sweet you can be when I get my hands on you.”

The words sent a shiver coursing through you, your pulse racing under the intensity of his stare. Before you could summon a response, Logan kissed you, his mouth firm and demanding, the scrape of his beard adding to the delicious roughness. He kissed you like he needed to prove something, like he was desperate to remind you exactly who you were to him.

You moaned softly against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The heat of his body pressed against yours, solid and unyielding, grounding you in the moment. Logan shifted, his weight settling between your legs as he deepened the kiss.

The faint scent of woodsmoke and leather clung to him, familiar and intoxicating. Your hands moved instinctively, tracing the expanse of his shoulders before dipping lower, fingers brushing along the waistband of his sweats. Logan growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips as he pulled back just enough to speak.

“You’re makin’ it real hard to stay good,” he murmured, his voice rough. He gripped your hips, grinding against you just enough to make your breath hitch. “Tell me to stop if you want me to.”

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.

Logan didn’t need to be told twice. In one fluid motion, he pushed his sweats down just enough to free himself, the thick length of him pressing against your bare skin. His hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting and spreading you further as he settled between your legs.

He paused, his brow furrowing slightly as he searched your face. “You okay, darlin’?” he asked softly, his voice a stark contrast to the heat burning in his eyes.

You nodded, reaching up to brush a hand along his jaw. “I’m more than okay.”

That was all the reassurance he needed. Logan leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as he guided himself to your entrance. He pushed forward slowly, the stretch making you gasp and clutch at his shoulders. He was careful, deliberate, giving you time to adjust as he filled you inch by inch.

“Jesus,” he muttered, his breath warm against your neck. “You feel so damn good, Y/N.”

Your fingers dug into his back, your body arching to meet his as he began to move. Each thrust was measured at first, slow and purposeful, but the restraint in him was palpable, barely holding back the raw intensity that simmered beneath the surface.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice cracking on his name. “I—God, don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t plannin’ to,” he growled, his hips snapping forward with more force. The change in pace had you crying out, your nails raking down his back as pleasure bloomed in waves, overwhelming and all-consuming.

Logan groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he drove into you harder, deeper. “You’re mine,” he murmured against your skin, the words raw and possessive. “Always gonna be mine.”

“Yours,” you gasped, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. The new angle sent a bolt of heat through you, your body tightening around him as the pressure built. “Logan, I’m—”

“I know,” he rasped, his lips brushing your ear as he thrust harder, chasing your release. “Let go for me, darlin’. I’ve got you.”

It only took a few more strokes before you shattered, your cry muffled against his shoulder as your body clenched around him. Logan followed seconds later, his movements turning erratic as he buried himself deep inside you with a guttural groan.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you clung to each other. Logan finally lifted his head, his hand brushing a damp strand of hair from your face as he looked down at you, his expression softening.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and tender.

You smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Better than okay.”

Logan grinned, the corners of his mouth quirking upward in that familiar, boyish way that always made your heart skip a beat. “Guess I was good, then.”

You laughed softly, your chest still heaving as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss.

that is 2011!

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