#i think I'm trying to sort out my ideas for that second fic

[vole-mon-amour]

What if the first time Astarion and Halsin have sex, Halsin bottoms for him?

What if the role of a bottom isn't assumed and Astarion goes like, "Do you mind if...?"

What if Astarion has his claws and he can't prepare Halsin, so Halsin has to prepare himself for him while Astarion watches?

In my first fic Astarion is feeding on Halsin & Halsin encourages him to ask if he ever needs to feed again. What if during their first sexual intimacy Astarion asks "May I..?"

When Halsin gives him a clear and not hesitant "Yes", Astarion bites a wildly accepted area—wrist or neck. When he wants to bite somewhere around the thighs, more intimate area, Halsin goes, "You can bite. You don't have to ask right now. Bite if you want to."

What if that leads to Halsin feeling lightheaded again (in my fic he does) and he ends up walking off from the entire ordeal all bitten everywhere? Orgasmed, sure, but all bitten nonetheless.

Again, what if Astarion likes to bite? What if it's his way of showing passion and love, especially after he wasn't allowed to feed on anything but rats and sometimes bigger animals? He doesn't necessarily drink, but it's literally a kiss with teeth that canon often talks about.

What if biting is his knowledge that he's being accepted and loved for who he is, no matter what?

[mcrdvcks]

Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious

Summary: People would tell you that geniuses don't know everything, but you tell them that defeats the purpose of the word. Until one day you're proven wrong.

Word Count: 17.4k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: i came up with this idea a few days ago and had to write it down. basically reader is a genius and her mutation is controlling nature (her code name is 'flora' but it's not used often. and yes, it's a winx club reference, sue me)

i tried to make it as inclusive as i could, but i'm still learning since this is only my second reader fic.

i would like to turn this into a oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests!

warnings: few uses of y/n, logan uses a lot of pet names for reader, slight innocent!reader

You had only been at the X-Mansion for a year and yet all the students seemed to love you. At first, you thought that no teenager would want to come out to the large greenhouse you had set up, but you were proven wrong.

At the end of every day, right before dinner, dozens of kids would come out and help you water the plants and pull out the weeds.

It was certainly not what you expected to do after college, especially after only having your PhD’s for 2 years. It had all started when you met Hank McCoy at a science conference in New York City. You had graduated a mere few weeks ago and were out trying to network when you met him.

After that, Hank took you to meet Charles Xavier and he offered you a two-sided job, teach a few classes and be part of the X-Men, after you went through some training. You didn’t know how to fight at the beginning, but now you think you’ve got the hang of it.

You had just finished teaching your advanced physics class, standing at your desk gathering up the papers before going to your office to grade them, when someone knocked on the open classroom door.

Logan stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that usual smirk tugging at his lips. “You done for the day, sweetheart?”

You looked up from the pile of papers, surprised to see him there, though you probably shouldn’t have been. Logan had this way of showing up whenever you least expected it, always with some sort of pet name that left your students giggling.

When you first arrived at the school and started your training, it was Logan and Ororo who helped you learn how to fight. You certainly were not on a level like Logan, but you now knew how to hold your own without completely relying on your powers.

Logan was probably the one you were closest to at the mansion, save for Ororo and Jean. You enjoyed his company, even in the late nights when you would tend to the plants and he would stand quietly nearby smoking a cigar.

“Just about,” you replied, straightening the stack. “I was going to head to my office and grade these. Why? You need something?”

Logan pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots thudding lightly against the floor. “Can’t a guy just drop by and check in on ya?”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I guess, but somehow I doubt you’re just here to ‘check in.’” You shuffled the papers into a neat stack, slipping them into a folder. “So, what’s up?”

Logan shrugged, hands now in his jacket pockets as he stood a few feet away from your desk. “You’ve been buried in books and papers all week. Thought you could use a break.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be done grading these in like an hour. It doesn’t take me long. Unlike someone else.”

Logan snorted, a small smile forming as he tilted his head at you. "Yeah, well, not all of us have two fancy PhDs and can finish things in a blink, darlin’."

You laughed softly, putting the papers into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “You’re just mad because I keep proving I’m right.” You rounded your desk, smirking. “Plus, I’m having a movie night with Jean and Ororo. See? I can take breaks.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he leaned in just a little, casting you that knowing look he always had when he was teasing you. “Movie night, huh? Lemme guess—something boring and science-y?”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you zipped up your bag. “Not every movie night is a science documentary, Logan.”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, the teasing drawl in his voice making it clear he didn’t believe you for a second. “So, what are you watchin’, then? Some quantum physics thriller?”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “It’s The Princess Diaries this time, actually. But I do like documentaries, so don’t knock them.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and deep, and for a moment it made you forget the pile of grading still waiting for you. “I’ll let it slide this time, darlin’. But if I hear you talkin’ about how accurate the physics are in some movie during your ‘break,’ I’m dragging you out of that mansion myself.”

You gave him a mock-serious look. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “And we both know I could.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. Logan had a way of just picking you up—literally—and dragging you away when he thought you’d been working too hard. Sometimes you suspected he enjoyed it a little too much.

Before you could retort, Logan's expression softened slightly. “Look, Y/N, I’m serious. You’ve been bustin’ your ass all week. Go take a real break tonight, will ya?”

There it was again. That rare softness he showed only to you, like the tough exterior melted away for just a second. You never really knew how to respond when he got like that, so you shrugged casually and smiled. “I’ll take it easy tonight. Promise.”

“Good,” he said, his voice gruff but warm. “’Cause I don’t wanna hear about you passin’ out from exhaustion or whatever it is geniuses do when they work themselves to death.”

You walked to the door and turned back to face him, “Einstein slept 10 hours during the night and took regular naps.” You gave him a wink and walked down the hall towards your office, a satisfied smirk on your face.

Logan watched you disappear down the hallway, shaking his head with a faint smile. He wasn't sure when it started, but something about your energy, the way you threw yourself into everything—whether it was the students, your research, or even the X-Men's missions—had caught his attention. And now, it was hard to get you out of his head, let alone his senses.

He could always tell when you were nearby or recently in an area—your perfume was inherently you, mango with an undercurrent of something woodsy. And you always looked cute, a word Logan thought he’d never use. You constantly wore colors, usually pastels in varying shades, whether it be a shirt, your shoes, or even accessories in your hair. It was almost ridiculous how someone with two PhDs and the kind of brain that could out-think just about everyone around her could be so oblivious to certain things.

And that was why he found you so fascinating.

You were brilliant, no doubt about it—always talking about equations, theories, and whatever else you’d been reading about. But somehow, you never seemed to notice when he was flirting with you, which had become Logan's new favorite game. He knew exactly what he was doing when he called you varying nicknames.

It wasn’t like it was a secret either; pretty much everyone at the mansion had picked up on it. Hell, even the students were in on it, giggling whenever Logan tossed a pet name your way or gave you one of those half-smirks that drove everyone else insane.

Everyone except you, apparently.

You walked down the hall, completely unaware of the looks you were getting, or the fact that Logan’s eyes lingered a bit longer than they should have as you disappeared around the corner. Shaking his head, he let out a low chuckle before heading toward the garage. Maybe a ride on his bike would clear his head, though it probably wouldn’t. You had a way of sticking in his mind, even when you weren’t around.

---

Later that night, you were sprawled on the couch in one of the common rooms, sandwiched between Jean and Ororo as the three of you laughed at the antics on screen. The Princess Diaries was playing, and though you’d seen it a dozen times, it never failed to make you laugh.

You had your hair tied up and off your neck, and you were dressed in one of your usual casual outfits—leggings and an oversized hoodie that probably belonged to one of the guys in the mansion, though you couldn’t remember who. Logan’s scent faintly lingered on it, but you didn't think much of it.

You shifted comfortably, pulling your legs up to curl under you as Jean and Ororo sat on either side, each of you clutching bowls of popcorn and laughing at the antics in The Princess Diaries.

“I still don’t get how a movie about a teenager becoming a princess is this funny,” Jean said, shaking her head as she stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Like, shouldn’t it be cheesy?”

“It is cheesy,” you countered, laughing as Mia slipped and fell in the movie. “But it’s good cheesy. There’s a difference.”

Ororo chuckled, glancing at you with an amused smile. “You’ve seen this how many times now?”

“Don’t judge me,” you teased, tossing a piece of popcorn in her direction, which she easily swatted away with a smirk. “This is a classic.”

Jean raised an eyebrow, giving you a playful nudge. “More classic than, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey? That seems more your speed.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Not every movie I watch has to be some cerebral masterpiece, Jean.”

Ororo smiled knowingly. “Mmm, true, but you’re always spouting off facts about space or physics during random moments in these movies.”

“That’s because science is everywhere!” you replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t not notice when something’s wrong.”

Jean grinned. “Like that time you paused Star Wars just to give us a lecture on how light speed doesn’t work like that?”

You huffed a laugh. “Well, it doesn’t. It’s all—”

“Science, we know,” Ororo finished, sharing a look with Jean that made you roll your eyes again.

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, holding up your hands. “I’ll try not to nerd out tonight.”

“That’s all we ask,” Jean said, smirking as she leaned back on the couch, throwing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth.

For the next hour or so, the three of you watched the movie without incident, though you had to bite your tongue more than once. A promise was a promise, after all.

When the movie ended, Ororo stretched and got up from the couch. “Alright, I’m heading to bed. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”

“Same,” Jean said, standing and offering you a soft smile.

“Guess I’ll get ready for bed too, then.” You replied. Each of you headed to your rooms, Jean shared one with Scott down the hall from you, and Ororo’s room was close by theirs.

Your room was full of plants, small vines on the walls and windowsills, along with potted flowers across the room. It had been habit ever since you learned about your powers to always be surrounded by them, it gave you a sense of peace.

Taking off your clothes you got into the shower, where more plants were, including a rhaphidophora tetrasperma and a maidenhair fern.

You smiled to yourself, relishing the small oasis you’d created in your bathroom. The plants thrived in here, the humidity of your showers mimicking their natural habitat. It was a simple pleasure to see something flourish under your care, which was probably why you always surrounded yourself with greenery.

You rinsed off, the water now lukewarm as it cascaded over you, and turned the shower off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your skin as you moved toward the mirror. You wiped a hand across the fogged glass, revealing your reflection. You took off your shower cap, letting your hair free from its constraints.

There was a faint knock at your door, and you glanced toward it, frowning. Who would be knocking at this hour?

“Y/N?” Logan’s voice came from the other side. “You still awake?”

Your eyes widened slightly. What was Logan doing here? You quickly pulled on some comfortable clothes—an oversized t-shirt and shorts—before cracking the door open to find Logan leaning against the frame, his usual smirk in place.

“Logan? It’s kind of late. What’s up?” you asked, holding the door open just enough for him to see you but not enough to fully invite him in.

He shrugged, his eyes briefly scanning you before locking on yours. “Came by to see if you wanted to take a walk. Figured you might still be awake.”

You blinked, taken aback. “A walk? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied casually, as if asking you to go for a walk at nearly midnight was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re always sayin’ how you like the way the plants look at night. Thought maybe you’d want some fresh air.”

You hesitated for a moment, considering his offer. You had planned on heading to bed soon, but you couldn’t deny the appeal of a nighttime walk—especially with Logan. The mansion grounds were peaceful at this hour, and the idea of walking among the moonlit flowers sounded tempting.

“Alright,” you said, pushing the door open the rest of the way. “Let me put on some shoes.”

Logan nodded, leaning back against the doorframe as he waited, his arms crossing over his chest. You slipped on a pair of sneakers, quickly tying the laces.

“Ready,” you said, adjusting your shirt and stepping out into the hallway.

Logan pushed off the frame and started walking beside you, his steps easy and casual. The mansion was quiet, most of the students already asleep, and you could hear the soft hum of night settling in as you both made your way outside. The cool air greeted you as you stepped into the garden, and you couldn’t help but smile as the scent of flowers and earth filled your senses.

“So,” Logan said after a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets, “how was the movie?”

You smiled, glancing at him. “It was good. A classic, really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Jean and Ororo didn’t give you a hard time?”

You chuckled. “Well, they did try to poke fun at my love for science, but nothing too bad. It was all in good fun.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah, they like to tease. Just means they’re comfortable around ya.”

You gave a small nod, your gaze shifting to the moonlit flowers around you. You loved the way the plants seemed to glow in the night, the way everything felt so peaceful at this hour. It was one of the reasons you often came out here at night when the mansion was quiet and still.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you. Logan didn’t say much, but that was one of the things you liked about him—he didn’t need to fill the air with pointless conversation. He was just… there, steady and solid, like the trees you so loved to be around.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and the ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. You wondered briefly what he thought of these walks. He always seemed to show up at the right moments, offering his company when you needed it most, even if you didn’t realize you needed it at the time.

“So, Logan,” you started, your voice casual as you glanced at a cluster of moonlit lilies, “what’s the real reason you wanted to walk tonight? I know you didn’t just suddenly decide to take in the scenery.”

He chuckled, low and deep, as he shifted his gaze to the path ahead. “Maybe I like the scenery more than I let on.”

“Right,” you teased, arching an eyebrow. “Because I’ve definitely seen you out here admiring the roses before.”

“Who says I’m talkin’ about the roses, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes, though a faint smile played at your lips. “Uh-huh. Keep dreaming, Logan.”

There was that playful glint in his eyes again, the one you’d grown used to but never quite understood. He always had this way of teasing you—soft, subtle comments that seemed to amuse him more than anything else. It wasn’t like you minded, though. You liked the banter, even if you never quite knew why he seemed to engage in it with you so much.

You gave him a sidelong glance, but Logan’s expression remained as it usually did—a little cocky, a little mysterious, his hands resting casually in his jacket pockets as he walked alongside you. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path, and you found your gaze drifting back to the flowers blooming in the gardens. The peace of the night wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and for a moment, you almost forgot Logan was there.

“Y’know,” Logan said after a stretch of silence, his voice low and lazy, “you really are a mystery, sweetheart.”

You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. “What do you mean by that?”

Logan shrugged, his eyes briefly flicking to yours before looking ahead again. “You’re this genius, right? Got two PhDs, can out-think just about anyone in the room. But sometimes… you’re completely clueless.”

You scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. “Clueless? Me? I don’t think that’s possible.”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that teasing smile. “Yeah, darlin’. Clueless. You know a hell of a lot about a lot of things, but when it comes to readin’ people? Not so much.”

Your frown deepened. “I think I read people just fine, Logan.”

He stopped walking then, turning to face you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Oh, do ya?”

“Yeah,” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I spend a lot of time around people. I know how to pick up on things.”

Logan’s smile widened, like he was holding back laughter. “Is that so?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “Yes, that’s so. What are you getting at?”

Logan’s grin widened as he saw you narrow your eyes, your arms crossed in clear frustration. There was something about how easily he could rile you up, how your normally sharp mind would stumble whenever he teased you, that made him enjoy these moments even more.

“You’re dodging the question,” you pressed, sensing that his silence was deliberate. “What are you getting at?”

Logan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the nearest tree, his usual smirk in place. “I’m just sayin’, for someone who’s supposed to be a genius, you don’t always see what’s right in front of you.”

You let out a huff, clearly not satisfied with his answer. “I see everything just fine, Logan. You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“Subtle, huh?” Logan echoed, his grin softening into a more thoughtful expression. “Maybe I’m not. Or maybe you’re just a little too focused on the wrong things.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but as usual, Logan didn’t offer anything more. He simply stood there, his eyes watching you carefully, as if enjoying the little mystery he’d planted in your mind. You could practically see the amusement dancing behind his gaze.

“This is just another one of your games, isn’t it?” you muttered, though there was no real bite in your tone. “You like keeping me guessing.”

“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “Keeps things interestin’, don’t ya think?”

You rolled your eyes again, turning away from him as you started walking down the path. You weren’t going to let him keep you on edge like this. You had better things to think about than whatever half-assed answer Logan was playing at tonight.

Logan fell into step beside you, his hands tucked back into his pockets. The two of you walked in silence for a bit longer, and despite the earlier tension, you found yourself relaxing once more. The garden was quiet, the night cool and calm. Logan’s presence, as always, was steady beside you, even if he did like to mess with your head sometimes.

“You know,” you began after a while, your voice softer now, “just because I’m a genius doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to people. I do pick up on things.”

Logan shot you a sideways glance, that infuriating smirk back on his face. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious!” you insisted, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “I just… maybe I’m not as concerned with people’s motives as much as I am with facts and data. It’s different.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s part of the problem, doll. You think you can figure out everything like it’s a puzzle. But people? We’re a little more complicated than that.”

You tilted your head, thinking about that. “I don’t see why it has to be complicated. People say what they mean, don’t they?”

Logan paused for a moment, his smirk turning into something more thoughtful. “Not always.”

There was a heaviness in his voice that made you glance up at him, but before you could ask what he meant, he turned his head away, eyes focused on something in the distance. The moment passed, and Logan was back to his usual self, his grin in place as if nothing had happened.

“Anyway,” he said, changing the subject, “how’s your latest project goin’? Still messing with those gadgets?”

You sighed, the shift in conversation allowing you to relax again. “Yeah, still working on a few prototypes. Hank’s been helping me out with some of the materials, but we’re having trouble stabilizing the energy output.”

Logan nodded, listening with genuine interest. “Sounds like somethin’ you’ll figure out soon enough.”

“I hope so,” you said with a small smile. “But it’s been a little frustrating.”

“Not used to runnin’ into roadblocks, huh?” Logan teased.

“Not really,” you admitted, a touch of sheepishness in your tone. “I’m used to things coming together quickly once I have all the information. This one’s been… tricky.”

Logan gave a low hum of understanding. “That’s the thing about science, sweetheart. It ain’t always predictable.”

“Yeah, but I like predictability,” you said with a shrug. “It makes sense. People, on the other hand…”

Logan laughed at that, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

The two of you continued your walk, the conversation drifting to lighter topics—projects, students at the mansion, the occasional prank pulled by one of the younger mutants. You liked how easy it was to talk to Logan, even when he teased you or left you hanging on a thought. He was always there, listening, offering his dry commentary when it was needed.

As you walked, you found yourself glancing at him every now and then, taking in the way the moonlight caught his features, the rough stubble on his jaw, the confident way he carried himself. You didn’t understand why he spent so much time around you, especially when he had no trouble being alone or doing his own thing. Logan didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way for someone, and yet… here he was.

“Logan?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?” he replied, his gaze shifting to you.

“Why do you do this?”

He frowned, genuinely confused. “Do what?”

“Walk with me. Spend time with me. You’re not exactly the most sociable guy around here.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Maybe I like your company, sweetheart. Ever think of that?”

You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be so direct about… feelings. You weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply looked away, feeling a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” you admitted after a moment.

Logan’s smirk returned, but there was something softer behind it this time. “That’s ‘cause you’re too busy thinkin’ about everythin’ else, doll.”

You didn’t respond right away, still processing his words. Logan wasn’t one to lay things out so plainly, but when he did, it always seemed to catch you off guard. He had this way of making you question things—yourself, your understanding of the world—without ever really giving you any answers. It was frustrating, but at the same time, it was… endearing.

As the two of you walked back toward the mansion, the quiet settling over you once more, you couldn’t help but wonder what Logan had meant earlier. About you being ‘clueless.’ It wasn’t like you didn’t notice things—sure, people had their layers, but you weren’t blind to them. So what was he talking about?

---

The next morning, you were back in your usual routine—teaching classes, working in the greenhouse, and helping the students with their studies. It was a busy day, but you didn’t mind. The students were eager to learn, and you found a sense of satisfaction in watching them grow and develop their skills.

After your last class, you made your way to the greenhouse, your favorite part of the day. The students had already watered the plants earlier, so you spent some time pruning and checking on the growth of the flowers and vegetables.

The sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, and you turned to see Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, glancing up from the plant you were tending to.

Logan shrugged. “Figured I’d stop by. See how you’re doin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “You checking up on me again?”

He chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on ya, sweetheart.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your plants. “I’m fine, Logan. Really.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice closer now. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing just a few feet away, watching you with that same unreadable expression he always seemed to have around you. “But it doesn’t hurt to check in every now and then.”

Logan looked over at a large strawberry plant in the corner, it seemed to have a lot of yield, bright red strawberries hanging from the branches.

“You ever try a strawberry with no pesticides?” You asked, standing up from the ground and taking off your gloves. You looked around the plant before pulling what you thought looked to be the best of the bunch, holding it out for him. Since it was August, the strawberries were soon going to go out of season, so this was the last good batch you were going to get.

Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he eyed the fruit in your hand. "I’ve had my share of wild strawberries, sweetheart, but never from your garden.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him with the strawberry still outstretched. “Wild strawberries? Really, Logan? This is organic, homegrown perfection. Totally different experience.”

He chuckled, finally taking the strawberry from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. It was so brief you didn’t think much of it, but Logan’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.

“Well?” you asked, watching him expectantly. “What do you think?”

Logan chewed slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. “Sweet,” he finally said, his voice low. “Real sweet.”

You smiled, pleased with his answer, though you didn’t quite catch the way his gaze lingered on you as he said it. “Told you,” you said, turning back to the plant to grab a strawberry for yourself. “Fresh strawberries are unbeatable.”

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you take a bite. “You take real pride in this, don’t ya?”

“Of course,” you said, glancing at him between bites. “There’s something rewarding about growing things. Watching them thrive under the right conditions. It’s like… I don’t know, creating life.”

Logan’s eyes softened as he listened to you talk, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “You care a lot about the little det- ” He was cut off by surprise, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips wiping off some of the strawberry juice.

You seemed to not think much about it, nor did you notice Logan’s heart sped up with your simple touch. It was over quick, you let out a soft gasp and walked behind him, looking up at a vine at the top where you saw a few ripe kiwis.

You reached your palm out, focusing your energy on the vines at the top of the greenhouse. They shifted gently, as if responding to your silent command, dropping three ripe kiwis into your hand. You grinned, knowing Jean would appreciate the fresh fruit later. It wasn’t easy growing kiwis in New York, but your powers made up for the climate’s shortcomings. Nature seemed to bend to your will, a fact you took quiet pride in, even though you’d never flaunt it.

Meanwhile, Logan was still in slight shock from your gesture, he could almost feel the spot where your thumb brushed against him, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And you did it without thinking, in fact, you still didn’t seem to notice him looking at your back as you picked a few bunches of basil.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t just the way you talked about plants or how your hands moved with skill and grace—it was you, completely unaware of how you affected him. Completely unaware that his heart rate had spiked at the smallest, most innocent touch.

“Something wrong?” you asked, not even turning around as you picked at the herbs.

Logan blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “Nah, just... thinkin’. You’re somethin’, you know that?”

You gave a short laugh, pausing to glance back at him over your shoulder. “If that’s your way of saying I’m a genius again, I already know.”

He chuckled, moving to stand a bit closer. “That’s not exactly what I meant, sweetheart.” His voice was low, with that familiar gravelly tone he used when teasing you.

But as usual, the hint flew right past you. “Well, whatever it is, I’ll take it as a compliment.” You plucked another handful of basil leaves, slipping them into a small basket on the bench. “And you should try to be more specific next time, Logan. It helps with communication.”

“Specific, huh?” Logan leaned a little against the workbench beside you, arms crossed. “Alright then, you’re smart, sure. But there’s more to it than that. You... you just do things without even thinking about it. Like earlier.” His eyes flickered briefly to your hand.

You frowned a little, confused. “Earlier? You mean the strawberry thing? Or when I wiped the juice off your face?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “That.”

You blinked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal of it. “Logan, it was just strawberry juice. You looked like you were about to walk into a meeting with half a fruit smeared on your face.”

Logan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, doll. I get that.” He watched as you turned back to your plants, completely oblivious to the fact that what had been a small, thoughtless gesture for you had stirred something deeper for him. He found it both amusing and frustrating—not in an annoying way, but in a way that made him want to get closer to you, to push the boundaries just a little more.

“So,” you said, shifting the subject as you snipped a bit more basil. “What’s got you wandering into the greenhouse today? It’s not exactly your usual haunt.”

Logan leaned back, watching you with those intense eyes of his. “Just felt like stoppin’ by. Spend some time with you. Ain’t that a good enough reason?”

You rolled your eyes, though your smile was genuine. “I suppose. It’s just... you don’t usually care about plants and stuff.”

“Well, maybe I’m changin’,” Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” You paused, glancing at him as you picked up a watering can. “So... you wanna help?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Me? Helpin’ with your garden?”

“Why not?” you asked, stepping closer to him. “You’ve got hands, don’t you? It’s not all that complicated.”

He chuckled, reaching out to take the watering can from you, brushing his fingers against yours for a second time. “Alright, sweetheart, show me how it’s done.”

You handed him the can and pointed to a row of lavender plants nearby. “Just give them a little water. Not too much though—they don’t like it when their roots get too wet.”

Logan followed your instructions with a kind of amused curiosity, watching as the water trickled from the can onto the plants. It wasn’t the kind of thing he normally found himself doing, but there was something about the simplicity of it, something about you, that made it... well, not so bad.

“You really know your stuff, don’t ya?” Logan remarked after a few moments, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.

“Well, yeah,” you said, turning to grab some tools from a nearby shelf. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Plus, it’s kind of in my wheelhouse, you know? With the whole ‘controlling nature’ thing.”

Logan smirked, setting the watering can down as he leaned against the bench again. “Yeah, I’ve seen you do some pretty wild things with those powers of yours. But you don’t talk about ‘em much.”

“I talk to them.” You said, hiding a grin from growing on your face.

“Really?” he asked, surprised.

You laughed as you stood up, throwing a few weeds in a separate basket. “No. I was joking!”

Logan let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head at you. “You got me there, sweetheart,” he said, still leaning against the bench, watching you with that ever-present smirk on his face.

You grabbed a nearby hose, turning the water on low to rinse your hands. "Can't believe you thought I was serious. I mean, I get along with plants, but I don’t have full-on conversations with them. That’d be weird."

"Wouldn't surprise me with you, doll," Logan replied, still watching you intently. "You seem to know what everything around here needs, even without talkin' to 'em."

You shrugged, drying your hands on a towel. "It’s just intuition, I guess. Plants give off signals if you know how to read them."

Logan gave you a long look, his smirk softening into something almost affectionate, though you didn’t notice. "You sure it's just the plants you read that well?"

You looked up at him, confused for a second, but quickly shook your head, dismissing his comment. "Are you gonna keep talking, or are you actually going to help me?”

Logan pushed himself off the bench, standing up straight. "Alright, alright. Where do you want me, doll?"

You handed him the basket full of weeds, “throw them out.”

He raised an eyebrow, “that’s it?”

You handed Logan the basket of weeds, his hand brushing against yours for the third time today. He smirked slightly, but you, as usual, were completely unaware of the subtle tension.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response to his earlier question, balancing two baskets filled with freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and herbs in your arms. “I’m gonna lock up and bring these inside.”

Logan didn’t move for a second, watching as you turned your back and headed toward the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the greenhouse. For someone so sharp, so brilliant, you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he enjoyed these little moments with you.

That small, unspoken connection you two had—the one where you never quite seemed to notice that he was flirting with you—had started to become his favorite part of the day. Even if it had been going on for 8 months, and yes, he was counting.

As you reached for the lock on the greenhouse door, you glanced over your shoulder. “You’re still standing there, Logan. Are you gonna help or just watch me carry all this stuff by myself?”

Logan’s smirk widened. “Oh, I was just enjoyin' the view, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, missing the deeper meaning in his words, as usual. “Right. Well, the view can help me with these baskets if it’s not too busy.”

Logan chuckled softly, walking over to you and easily taking one of the baskets from your hands. “You got it, doll. I’ll lend a hand.”

Together, you made your way toward the mansion, the quiet of the late afternoon settling around you. It was peaceful, in that way you liked—just the sound of your footsteps on the gravel path, the faint rustle of leaves in the distance, and the low hum of the cicadas in the trees. Logan had quickly thrown away the weeds and rejoined you, taking the other basket out of your hand, saying something about how he was ‘being a gentleman.’

You both entered the mansion from the back door, making your way to the kitchen where Logan placed the baskets on the island. Jean and Scott were already in there, Jean making her way over to the two baskets.

You, having an inkling for what she was looking for, reached into one of the baskets and pulled out the 3 kiwis. You handed the kiwis over to Jean, a smile playing on your lips as she quickly clutched them to her chest, almost like they were gold. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, and it always amused you. Scott, of course, tried to intervene, reaching out to snatch one, but Jean shot him a look that was part-serious, part-playful.

“Hey, those are for me,” she said, moving slightly to block Scott’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for these kiwis all week.”

Scott smirked but backed off, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, babe.”

Jean gave him a victorious smile, then turned to you. “Thanks, Y/N. You always come through with the best fruit.”

“Of course,” you replied, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. “You’ve been asking for kiwis since the season started, so I figured it was about time I delivered.”

Logan, still standing nearby, watched the interaction with a subtle smirk on his face. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking completely relaxed but attentive.

“You sure know how to make people happy, doll,” Logan said, his voice low but teasing. “Always goin’ above and beyond for everyone.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. “It’s just a few kiwis, Logan. Nothing special.”

Jean, now satisfied with her prized fruit, glanced between the two of you with a curious look, sensing something in Logan’s tone. She had noticed the way he’d been hanging around you more than usual lately, and it wasn’t hard to pick up on the little glances he threw your way when you weren’t looking. Of course, you remained blissfully unaware of it all, as always.

“You’re selling yourself short,” Jean said, throwing you a grin. “It’s not just the kiwis. You’ve practically turned the greenhouse into a mini-Eden. We all appreciate it, even if Scott can’t admit he’s jealous of my fruit.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the garden, Y/N.”

You smiled at the compliment, though it didn’t feel like anything out of the ordinary to you. Taking care of the plants, helping out with the students, it was all part of your routine. You liked it that way—predictable, manageable. You didn’t dwell on the subtleties of interpersonal dynamics the way others seemed to.

Logan’s smirk widened slightly at Jean’s comment, but he kept quiet, watching you interact with the others. There was something about the way you brushed off compliments so easily, like you didn’t quite grasp how much people appreciated you around here.

You had already put a few strawberries in a glass bowl, making your way out of the kitchen to Ororo’s office without saying a word, something they were already used to.

“You sure you’re not going to say anything? You know, that’s actually straight to the point?” Jean asked Logan.

Scott reached into one of the baskets, pulling out a few blueberries, “at this point, you’re like a love-sick puppy following her around.”

Logan let out a low growl, plucking a strawberry out from the basket. “Keep talking dickhead.” He threatened.

Jean raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, her sharp eyes flicking between Logan and Scott. "He’s not wrong though, Logan. You’ve been spending more time with Y/N than usual. We’ve all noticed."

Logan grunted, pushing himself off the counter and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "She’s a good kid. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on her."

Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Right, keepin' an eye on her. That's what we’re calling it now?"

Jean shot Scott a playful glare, but her attention quickly shifted back to Logan. “You know, you could just tell her how you feel. She’s oblivious, but she’s not stupid. Sooner or later, she’s going to notice.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he glanced toward the door where you had just left. His emotions were complicated—he’d never been one for opening up, and the idea of confessing anything, especially something as vulnerable as his feelings for you, wasn’t exactly in his comfort zone. He had been through too much, lost too many people, and the thought of letting himself get close to someone again... well, it scared him more than he cared to admit.

“She’s got her own life,” Logan muttered, his voice gruff but softer now. “I ain’t lookin’ to mess that up.”

Jean sighed, walking over to stand next to Logan, her tone gentle but firm. “Logan, you’re not messing anything up. In fact, I think you’d be adding something important to her life. She’s not the type to see you as a burden or a distraction. She probably wouldn’t even realize you were flirting with her until you hit her over the head with it.”

Logan huffed a half-hearted laugh, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “Maybe that’s the problem. She’s too damn focused on other stuff to even see it.”

Jean smiled softly, placing a hand on Logan’s arm. “That’s what makes her so special, Logan. She’s genuine, selfless, and probably the least manipulative person in this mansion. She doesn’t play games—what you see is what you get. And she likes you, even if she doesn’t realize it in the same way you do yet.”

Scott, still lounging in his chair, added, “Plus, you know, if you wait too long, someone else might catch her eye. Just sayin’.”

Logan shot Scott a glare that could have melted steel. “Ain’t nobody else gonna catch her eye, Summers. Trust me on that.”

Jean chuckled softly, giving Logan’s arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “Well, when you’re ready, just remember—it’s okay to take a chance on her. You might be surprised by how things turn out.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, his mind already spinning with conflicting thoughts. He appreciated Jean’s support, but the fear of rejection, of losing someone else important to him, gnawed at his insides. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it again. And what if telling you how he felt ruined the easy, comfortable dynamic you two had? What if he lost the one person in the mansion who treated him like a normal man instead of a gruff, dangerous mutant?

Jean and Scott exchanged a knowing glance, but they let Logan mull over his thoughts in silence. They could push him only so far before it was up to him to take the next step.

---

You were walking down the halls with your bag in over your shoulder, all you needed to do was get to your office and take these heels off.

They looked cute online, not too tall or high, had some cushion on the soles, but wearing them was a completely different story. Which was sad because they were a cute baby pink which went well with your button up baby pink cardigan and white jeans.

But your office seemed so far away with the stabbing pain in your feet, luckily the halls were empty since most of the students were in their rooms doing homework or relaxing before dinner.

Having enough of the pain, you crouched down to unbuckle your heels, your bag moving down your shoulder to your elbow.

“Need any help, princess?”

You looked up at the sound of the voice, even though you knew exactly who it was.

Logan stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flicked down to your shoes before meeting your gaze again, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Need any help, princess?” His voice was low and casual, but that nickname—'princess’—it was just one of the many he’d taken to using when he spoke to you. Although you hadn’t heard this one before.

You shifted your bag back up on your shoulder and continued unbuckling the second heel. “I’ve got it, thanks,” you replied, not thinking too much of his presence. You’d known Logan long enough to realize he had a habit of showing up when you least expected him to.

He made a small grunt, as if to say ‘suit yourself,’ and watched as you continued to try and unbuckle the second one, but it looked like the strap was giving you a hard time.

Logan kneeled down in front of you without a word as you moved your hands away. You were smart enough to know that you weren’t exactly in the best position to unbuckle your heels, you usually did it when you were sitting down, not crouching in the middle of a hallway.

He easily unbuckled it and helped you slip out of the heels, your feet hitting the cool floor. You mumbled a thanks as his hand trailed up your calf with a feather light touch before standing up. Your heels were in one of his hands as he easily picked you up with one arm, carrying you bridal style.

You let out a small shriek of surprise, your arms instinctively going around Logan’s neck as he scooped you up with one arm, heels dangling from his other hand.

"Hey! I can walk!" you protested, more flustered than anything else. You were completely capable of walking, sore feet or not, but now you were cradled in Logan’s arms like a princess in some old fairy tale.

Logan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Not fast enough, sweetheart," he teased, carrying you effortlessly down the hall. His voice was deep, a hint of amusement in his tone, and it made your cheeks heat up slightly, though you quickly tried to brush it off.

You rolled your eyes, not really sure how to argue back. "I’m pretty sure this is unnecessary," you muttered, though your voice didn’t sound all that convincing even to you.

"Necessary or not, you're gonna let me carry you," he shot back, glancing down at you with a playful gleam in his eye. "Besides, I don’t mind."

You huffed in mock defiance, but you didn’t exactly push him to put you down either. In fact, being carried by Logan felt…nice. Comfortable, even. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud. And it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

As the two of you continued down the hallway, you couldn’t help but notice the way his grip was firm but gentle, his arms strong and steady. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen how built he was, but somehow, it always seemed to surprise you.

"You know, this could’ve been avoided if I’d just worn normal shoes," you grumbled, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart was beating a little too fast.

Logan chuckled softly, that gravelly sound that always seemed to resonate in your chest. "Doll, I’ve seen you rock combat boots and still look like you’re ready for a photoshoot. But those heels…" He raised an eyebrow at the pink shoes still in his hand. "Yeah, maybe not your best choice."

You frowned slightly, glancing at the heels. "They looked good online…"

He grinned, amused. "You got catfished by shoes?"

"I didn’t get catfished!" you retorted, though you couldn’t help but laugh. "They’re cute! Just not comfortable."

Logan made a noncommittal sound, clearly not convinced by your argument. But he didn’t press it further, instead shifting you slightly in his arms as he approached your office door.

"Want me to break down the door for you, too, princess? Or can you manage the key?" he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes, looking down at you like you were some helpless damsel.

"I’ve got it," you replied quickly, reaching into your bag for your keys. "And stop calling me princess." The nickname felt weird, it made your heart beat faster and you skin flush more than the other nicknames he called you.

But Logan just smirked, clearly unbothered. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

You couldn’t stop the little sigh that escaped you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. Logan stepped inside, gently setting you down on your feet.

As soon as you were standing, you felt the cool air against your now bare feet, and it was an instant relief from the torture those heels had put you through. You moved to put your heels down by your desk, but Logan still had them in his hand.

"You know I can take those now," you said, holding out your hand expectantly.

Logan eyed the heels for a moment, then handed them over. "You really should burn 'em, doll," he said in that same teasing tone, watching you place them on the floor.

"I’m not burning them," you replied, shaking your head. "They’re not that bad. I just…need to break them in."

Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe now, watching you with that amused smirk still playing on his lips. "Or you could just stick to boots."

"Maybe I like being fashionable sometimes," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at him as you plopped down into your office chair. Your fingers brushed your hair back from your face, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh now that you were sitting down.

"Fashionable, sure," Logan said, his voice a low rumble. "But at what cost?"

You shot him a look but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It was hard to stay annoyed when Logan was like this—playful, relaxed, his rough edges softened just enough to make you feel like he actually cared.

"Anyway, shouldn’t you be out doing something more...Logan-like?" you asked, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I don't know, brooding? Scowling at someone?"

His lips twitched, clearly suppressing a smirk. "Maybe I’m just waiting for you to ask me to carry you again."

You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. "Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath."

He chuckled, that deep, gravelly sound filling the small office. He didn’t say anything after that, just leaned against the door, arms crossed as he watched you settle in. The silence was comfortable, but it made you hyperaware of him—of the way his presence seemed to take up more space than it should.

You busied yourself with pulling out some notes from your bag, pretending you weren’t fully aware of how Logan’s eyes followed your every movement. It was strange, but also kind of…nice? Logan wasn’t like other guys. He wasn’t intimidated by your intelligence or the fact that you could talk circles around most people in the room. In fact, he seemed to like it, even if he teased you about it sometimes.

"Alright, well, thanks for the…uh, assistance," you said, breaking the silence and giving him a small, awkward smile. "I think I’m good now."

Logan didn’t move right away. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Anytime, sweetheart."

And with that, he turned and walked out of your office, leaving you with your thoughts—and the faintest trace of a smirk on your face.

---

Every so often, you would have a baking day to use up some of the fruits efficiently. Some of the students would join you in the large kitchen, doing their best to help you by carefully following your instructions.

Some of them, particularly the older ones, would cut up some of the fruit, like strawberries, apples, and peaches. The others would measure the ingredients and put them in a mixing bowl before combining it all together to make a dough.

This time, you were striving to make a few blueberry pies, a large dish of peach cobbler, apple strudels, and some strawberry puff pastries.

Baking was something you enjoyed, but never really did in college. You usually were busier with labs and theses rather than cooking or baking. You practically lived off take out and dining hall food. But since you’ve been here for the past year, you’ve already held 4 sessions, including this one.

“Careful with those strawberries,” you said to a student named Ben, who was chopping up the fruit with a little too much enthusiasm. “We need them in slices, not chunks.”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled, quickly adjusting his technique.

You smiled softly and moved to check on the other group, who were working on the dough for the pies. A girl named Emily was measuring out the flour, carefully following the recipe you’d written down.

"How’s it going over here?" you asked, watching as she sifted the flour into a bowl.

“Good, I think,” Emily said, glancing up at you nervously. “Is this enough?”

You nodded. "Looks perfect. Just remember to mix it slowly so the flour doesn’t go everywhere."

Emily gave you a grateful smile before continuing her work. You loved these baking sessions. It was a great way to bond with the students and also let them explore a more creative side outside of their classes. Plus, it gave you a break from the constant intellectual challenges of your usual work.

Logan wandered into the kitchen a little while later, casually leaning against the doorframe as he watched the controlled chaos. Ororo and Jean were already in the kitchen, watching from the sidelines nursing a glass of a bubbly pink drink.

He couldn’t help but think about how pretty you looked, you were wearing a pastel purple sundress with a light green apron with vines and flowers embroidered on it.

The sight made him smirk—something about you baking in a kitchen full of teenagers, in your floral apron, amused him. It was such a stark contrast to your usual intellectual, no-nonsense attitude.

“Whatcha got cookin’, sweetheart?” Logan’s gruff voice broke the bustling sounds of mixing and chopping.

You didn’t glance up, too focused on guiding Emily through making the pie dough. "Just baking some pies and pastries. Using up the leftover fruit. Do you want some?" you asked casually, not thinking too much about the fact that Logan was watching you.

Logan shrugged, stepping further into the kitchen. “Depends. Is it any good?”

You finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You doubt my baking skills?”

He chuckled lowly, leaning against the counter now, close enough to see what you were working on. “Wouldn’t call it doubt, doll. Just curious.”

You gave him a small smirk, hands moving skillfully as you finished helping Emily measure the remaining ingredients. "You’ll have to wait until they’re done to find out."

One of the students, Ben, interrupted, grinning as he wiped flour off his hands. "Y/N’s baking is the best! She made these strawberry scones last time—they were gone in like ten minutes."

Logan raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing glance. "Impressive, princess. Maybe I will stick around."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname but didn’t comment. Instead, you turned back to Emily, helping her roll out the dough. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice Logan's teasing, it was just that you didn’t think much of it. Guys didn’t usually flirt with you. At least not seriously. Most found your intelligence intimidating, or they simply saw you as ‘one of the guys.’ Logan’s pet names, in your mind, were just part of his rough-and-tumble personality, nothing more.

But Logan, on the other hand, found your obliviousness endearing. The fact that you didn’t seem to realize he was flirting with you only made him try harder, though he kept it casual enough not to push you away. He liked the challenge.

“You need any help?” Logan offered, gesturing toward the fruit Ben was chopping haphazardly.

“You’re not gonna burn the kitchen down?” you teased, wiping your hands on your apron before reaching for a bowl.

“I think I can handle it,” Logan said, a grin tugging at his lips.

You handed him a knife, showing him how to properly slice the strawberries. “Here, like this. We need them thin for the pastries.”

You held out the knife for him, and instead of coming up beside you like you assumed he would, he stood behind you, his chest against your back, practically caging you in between him and the counter.

He could hear your heart beat faster as he cut a few slices of the strawberry, asking, "That good enough for you, sweetheart?"

His voice was low, and you could feel his breath near your ear, but you were too focused on the task at hand to fully process the closeness. You glanced at the thinly sliced strawberries, nodding absentmindedly.

"Yeah, that’s perfect," you mumbled, moving slightly away to give yourself more room to breathe, though you didn’t realize why. "Just need a few more for the pastries."

Logan continued slicing, his movements precise, though his presence remained solid and grounding behind you. You were used to people standing close when you worked in the lab or in class—tight spaces, shared equipment, it came with the territory. But this was different. Logan’s proximity felt… intense in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

"So, how long you been doin' this?" Logan asked casually, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he finished up with the strawberries.

You blinked, taking a second to register the question. "Baking? Oh, I don’t know… when I was a kid? I just started because it’s a nice break from… everything I guess.”

Jean and Ororo continued to drink their glass of champagne when Scott walked in, placing an arm around Jean’s waist as they watched the scene. “Think she’ll finally realize,” he asked.

Ororo gave a small grin and shrugged, “who knows? But Logan’s certainly getting bolder.”

Jean shook her head, “I told him to talk to her and say exactly what he was feeling, but turns out he still hasn’t taken my advice.”

Ororo chuckled as she took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze flicking back to the kitchen scene unfolding in front of them. "Well, you know Logan. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strong suit."

Scott smirked as he stood next to Jean, his arm still comfortably draped around her waist. "Yeah, but subtlety doesn’t seem to be the problem here," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Logan hover around you. "He’s not exactly hiding it."

Ororo tilted her head, amused by how oblivious you remained despite Logan’s efforts. It wasn’t that you were unobservant; you were incredibly sharp—when it came to science, mechanics, and even battle tactics. But personal matters? Especially the ones involving yourself? Not so much.

"Poor girl," Ororo mused, shaking her head. "She’s a genius, but this…" She waved a hand in Logan’s direction. "This seems to be one thing she’s totally clueless about."

Jean smiled sympathetically. "She’s not used to people flirting with her. I mean, guys either get intimidated by her brain, or they just see her as a fellow intellectual, not… you know, a woman."

Ororo raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Logan clearly sees her as a woman. He’s made that much obvious. But I wonder how long it’ll take for her to figure it out."

Jean laughed softly. "At this rate? It might take a while."

The three of them watched with growing curiosity as Logan stood there, his broad shoulders and rough demeanor somehow fitting perfectly in the domestic scene of baking pastries with students. You, on the other hand, were entirely focused on getting the strawberry puff pastries just right, completely unaware of how closely Logan was watching you—or how he lingered longer than necessary when he handed you the knife, or how his teasing nicknames held a deeper meaning.

"She’s too smart for her own good," Scott added, shaking his head with a chuckle. "But when it comes to this, she's got blind spots."

Jean nodded in agreement. "Y/N is convinced she knows everything—and to be fair, she does know a lot—but she’s missing the whole picture here."

---

After Logan’s stunt on baking day, he wondered just how much further he could go. Sure, he could take Jean’s advice and outright tell you, but he also liked seeing you riled up and confused by his words and actions.

Like a few days ago, all he did was pull out your chair at dinner with the rest of the group and you just stood there, confused by the gesture. It took a few moments for you to understand and finally sit down before he pushed the chair closer to the table for you.

Or now, they were having a briefing, or meeting, about God knows what, most of everybody seated. You and Ororo were the last people to come in, aside from Charles. Ororo went to sit down at an open seat and as you looked around you came to the conclusion that there weren’t any other chairs available.

You were content with the fact that you were going to stand for the short meeting, as you found a spot to stand at the opposite end of the large round table, close to Logan.

“C’mere doll.” Logan said, lazily gesturing for you to come closer.

You hesitantly did, stopping next to his chair, your knee brushing his thigh. “What?”

He patted his thigh, “I don’t bite.”

Your eyes widened, a cute, innocent expression that he enjoyed seeing on your face, as you looked around the room. “I, uh- ”

Logan’s smirk widened, clearly finding your hesitation endearing. He patted his lap again, his eyes glinting with a teasing light. “C’mon, doll. Don’t be shy. There’s a perfectly good seat right here.”

You hesitated, your brain racing to process the situation. It wasn’t exactly appropriate for a professional setting, but you were running out of options. The only other seats were either taken or a bit too far from the discussion table. With a small sigh, you decided to give in. You didn’t want to stand for the entire meeting, and it was just one of those moments where you had to roll with it.

“Alright,” you said. You shot a glance around the room, but most people were already absorbed in their conversations or taking notes. You gingerly sat down on the edge of his lap, trying to maintain a sense of propriety despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Logan’s arm naturally wrapped around your waist to stabilize you, but he didn’t say anything as you settled. You could feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket, and it was strangely comforting despite the unusual circumstances. He leaned in slightly, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “You alright there, sweetheart?”

You nodded, trying to focus on the meeting but acutely aware of how close he was. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, though you could feel your cheeks warming slightly. “Just trying to get comfortable.”

Logan chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and making you shift just a bit closer. His hand rested lightly on your hip, not too firm but enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. You tried to ignore it and concentrate on the meeting, but his proximity made that task rather difficult.

The meeting continued, with Charles and the others discussing various topics related to ongoing projects and missions. Logan’s hand on your hip was a constant reminder of his presence, but he remained quiet, only chiming in occasionally with his usual gruff comments or suggestions.

---

At breakfast one day, you were sitting with Hank talking about the project you two were working on that was finally getting somewhere. You had finally been able to stabilize the energy output and now you two were talking about what to do next.

Logan sipped his coffee, looking at your from afar. As always, you were dressed cute today. You were wearing a light blue sweater with a pair of your skinny jeans and white flats, paired with matching drop earrings.

Ororo and Jean came up beside him, the former tsking. Ororo gave Logan a knowing look, crossing her arms. "You still at it, huh?" she teased, nodding in your direction.

Logan grunted but didn't respond immediately, sipping his coffee as he watched you and Hank animatedly discuss your project. You were explaining something with such enthusiasm, using your hands to gesture wildly, that it made him smirk. The light blue sweater you wore today only added to the adorable vibe you unknowingly radiated.

Jean nudged him lightly. "Nine months, Logan. Nine months of flirting, and she’s still completely oblivious." She shook her head, amused.

"She’s a genius, remember?" Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "She’s supposed to know everything."

Logan snorted, finally setting his coffee down. "Well, she clearly doesn’t know this. And I’m in no rush to tell her." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His eyes didn’t leave you, even as the conversation between Hank and you grew more intense.

Jean chuckled. "It's kinda cute, though. Watching her get all flustered whenever you call her those names, like she’s completely missing the point."

"I know," Logan muttered with a grin. "She gets that little furrow in her brow, like she’s trying to figure it out, but then brushes it off. She’s too wrapped up in all her fancy projects and theories."

Ororo shook her head in disbelief. "You’ve got the patience of a saint. Most people would’ve given up by now."

Logan shrugged, glancing at Ororo. "Ain’t in any hurry. She’s worth the wait."

Jean smiled softly at that, then sighed. "Well, good luck. Maybe one day she’ll actually catch on."

As if on cue, you let out a triumphant laugh from across the room, and Logan’s attention immediately shifted back to you. You had a bright smile on your face, clearly excited about whatever breakthrough you and Hank had just made.

"You’re like a moth to a flame," Ororo muttered under her breath with a smirk, walking off with Jean to sit down.

Logan ignored her, his eyes still locked on you as you gathered up some papers and started to walk toward the exit. As you passed him, he casually stuck his leg out just enough that you had to stop short to avoid tripping.

“Logan!” you exclaimed, looking down at his leg and then up at him with confusion.

He raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. "Mornin', sweetheart."

You blinked at him, clearly thrown off for a moment. "Uh, morning." You shifted the stack of papers in your arms. "Why’d you—"

"Just wanted to say good job," he interrupted, nodding toward the papers in your hand. "Whatever you and Hank were talkin’ about over there seemed pretty important."

Your face lit up at the mention of your project, and you immediately launched into an explanation, completely forgetting about Logan's odd behavior. "Oh, yeah! We finally stabilized the energy output! It’s been driving us crazy for weeks, but we think we’ve figured out how to—"

Logan barely paid attention to the technical jargon that followed, more focused on the way your eyes sparkled as you talked, your excitement contagious. He gave a few gruff nods, pretending to follow along, but it was the way you lit up when you were passionate about something that kept him hooked.

"You’re incredible, you know that?" he said once you finished, his voice low and serious.

You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, what?"

"I said you’re incredible." He repeated, his gaze locking onto yours. "Smart, talented, and cute as a button. Gotta give credit where it’s due."

Your cheeks flushed pink, and you quickly looked down at the papers in your arms. "Oh, um, thanks, Logan," you mumbled, completely missing the deeper implication of his words, as usual. "I... I should probably get these to the lab. We need to review them before the next phase."

"Of course," Logan said, his smirk widening as he watched you stumble over your words. "But don’t forget to take a break, doll. All work and no play ain’t good for anyone."

"Right," you said, nodding as you hurried off, your mind already shifting back to your project, completely oblivious to the playful grin on Logan's face.

---

“You’ve never even been clubbing!?” Ororo exclaimed, holding up a finger to stop you from saying anything. “And you know I’m not talking about something like a ‘gardening club’.”

“And you have?” You asked, sitting on your bed as Jean looked through your closet.

Ororo laughed, shaking her head at your naivety. “Oh, Y/N, honey, I’ve been out dancing plenty of times. Clubbing is one of those things you just have to experience.”

Jean, still rummaging through your closet, chimed in, "She’s right, Y/N. It's fun to get out of the lab once in a while and let loose. You spend so much time buried in your work. You deserve a break."

You sighed, sinking back onto the bed. "I don’t know… It just seems like a waste of time. We could watch a movie, drink some wine, and call it a night."

Ororo leaned against your dresser, crossing her arms. "You can’t hide behind your projects forever, Flora. You need to socialize, let your hair down." She smirked, looking at you pointedly. "You never know, maybe someone will finally catch your eye."

You furrowed your brow, unconvinced. "Like who?"

Jean shared a knowing look with Ororo before turning to face you, holding up a dress you’d forgotten you owned. “Who knows? There could be someone at the club. Or maybe someone you’ve been completely blind to.”

Ororo raised an eyebrow and added, "Someone who’s been giving you attention for months, perhaps."

Your eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Jean grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she held up the dress in front of you. "Nothing, just an observation. Now, come on, put this on. Let’s see how it looks."

You sighed, getting off the bed and taking the dress from Jean’s hands. "I still don’t get what the big deal is. I’m perfectly fine without this whole clubbing thing."

Ororo smirked, stepping toward the door. “Trust us. You’ll thank us later.”

---

A few hours later, you found yourself standing outside one of the busiest clubs in the city, feeling slightly out of place in the dress Jean had picked out for you. The music thumped from inside the building, the bass reverberating through the sidewalk as people lined up to get in. You stood between Jean and Ororo, who both looked far more comfortable in their outfits than you felt in yours.

"I can’t believe you guys convinced me to come," you muttered under your breath, shifting on your feet as you glanced at the line of people ahead.

Jean grinned, looping her arm through yours. "You’re going to have fun. Trust me. It’s a nice change of pace."

Ororo nodded in agreement. "Plus, you deserve a night out. You’ve been working hard."

As you were about to respond, the doors of the club swung open, and you were hit with a blast of cool air mixed with the sound of thumping music. The bouncer waved the three of you in without a second glance, and before you knew it, you were inside, the lights flashing and the crowd buzzing with energy.

You followed Jean and Ororo through the throngs of people, weaving through the packed dance floor until you reached the bar. The atmosphere was unlike anything you were used to—loud, chaotic, and a little overwhelming. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet.

Ororo leaned against the bar, ordering drinks while Jean turned to you with a grin. "What do you think so far?"

You shrugged, glancing around. "It’s... different."

"Just give it a chance," Jean said, patting your arm. "Once you get a drink in you and loosen up a bit, you’ll feel better."

The bartender handed Ororo three drinks, and she passed one to you with a wink. "To new experiences, Flora."

You hesitated for a moment before raising your glass. "To new experiences, I guess."

The three of you clinked glasses, and you took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol start to settle in. Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

An expensive Uber trip later and you three were back at the mansion at 4 in the morning. Luckily it was Friday, or Saturday now, so there was no need to worry about being hungover for classes.

You don’t think you’ve ever drank that much alcohol, but to be fair, you must have a really low tolerance since you never partied in college, other than the occasional glass of wine.

So, drinking around 5 or 6 fruity cocktails surely made you see things differently. Maybe just a tad bit too blurry and clumsy.

You fumbled with your keys at the mansion door, Jean giggling behind you. “Here, let me help,” she offered, her hands steadier than yours as she took the keys and unlocked the door with ease.

“I’m fine, Jean!” you protested with a laugh, swaying slightly as you stepped inside. You weren’t used to feeling so... unbalanced. Everything seemed lighter, funnier, and a little more ridiculous after the alcohol. You were starting to understand why people did this more often.

Ororo walked in behind you, shaking her head but smiling. “Maybe next time we won’t let you have quite so many drinks,” she teased, gently guiding you toward the living room. “You’re gonna feel this tomorrow.”

“I’m a genius,” you declared, holding your head high in mock dignity, “I’ll be fine.”

Jean snorted, flopping onto the couch. “Oh yeah? Even geniuses can’t outsmart a hangover.”

You waved her off, settling into a chair, only to realize it was far too squishy, causing you to slide right down onto the floor. You stared at it for a second, then burst out laughing. “Who put a trap here?”

Ororo and Jean were in hysterics now, and even though your head was spinning, you couldn’t help but join in.

“You know,” Ororo started between giggles, “for someone who knows everything, you sure don’t know how to handle a drink.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, or at least tried to. “It’s... an anomaly. Unpredictable variables.”

“Right,” Jean said, leaning back with a grin, “just like Logan’s flirting.”

You blinked, the name snapping you out of your drunken haze for a second. “Logan’s what?”

Ororo and Jean exchanged glances before looking back at you, their smiles widening.

“His flirting,” Jean repeated slowly, as if explaining a simple concept.

You squinted, feeling like your brain was moving through molasses. “Flirting? Logan? With me?”

Ororo rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, Y/N. For months. You seriously haven’t noticed?”

You stared at them both, utterly lost. “Flirting? Logan? Are you guys drunk too?”

Jean sighed dramatically, standing up. “I think you’re too far gone to process this tonight.”

You shook your head, still trying to wrap your mind around what they were saying. Logan? Flirting? With you? It didn’t make any sense. Logan was... well, Logan.

Ororo pulled you up from the floor, patting your arm. “Let’s get you to bed. You can overthink this tomorrow.”

---

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach that felt like it was doing somersaults. Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, making a mental note to never drink that much again.

As you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to find coffee and maybe something greasy to settle your stomach, you tried to remember the details from last night. Jean and Ororo had said something about Logan... flirting with you?

You shook your head. That couldn’t be right. Logan wasn’t the type to flirt. He was gruff, tough, and mostly kept to himself. Sure, he called you pet names, but that didn’t mean anything. Right?

Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you sat at the kitchen island, still groggy. You were about to take a sip when you heard the familiar sound of boots approaching.

“Mornin’, doll,” Logan greeted as he walked in, his voice a low rumble.

You looked up at him, your brain still foggy, and for some reason, the word ‘flirting’ popped into your mind again. You stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, your head tilting slightly.

“Uh... morning,” you replied, your voice a little more unsure than usual. You couldn’t stop replaying what Jean and Ororo had said last night. Was this flirting? You eyed Logan, trying to decipher his expression.

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Logan chuckled, that deep, rough sound that always sent a weird shiver down your spine. “Guess you didn’t take my advice about not overdoing it, huh?”

You blinked. “What advice?”

“Last night,” he said, smirking, “told ya not to have too many drinks, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrowed. “Wait, you were there?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, clearly amused. “Passed by when you three were heading out. You looked excited about... whatever the hell it is you get excited about.”

You frowned, trying to remember him saying that. It was all so hazy. Then you shook your head, deciding to just drop it. “Well, I’ll survive.”

Logan gave you a lazy grin. “Tough as nails, aren’t ya?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I guess so.”

There was a moment of silence before Logan pushed off the counter and moved closer. He reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your cheek for just a second too long. “Good thing. Wouldn’t want ya to break, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. This was... different. You felt your face heat up, and you quickly turned your attention back to your coffee. “Uh... right.”

Logan’s smirk didn’t fade as he stepped back. “See ya around, darlin’.”

You watched him leave the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. What was that? Was that what Jean and Ororo had been talking about? Or was it just him being old-fashioned, after all he was over 200 years old, and you were a mere 25. He was the Wolverine, and you were just a young teacher that happened to be an X-Men.

---

It had been a week since you had gone out clubbing with Jean and Ororo and you were too far gone in your own mind. You started observing things more carefully, the way Logan would rest his hand on your lower back when he was walking you to your next class, how he occasionally brought you snacks when you were in the lab, telling Hank that they were only for you, and finally, how he really only called you nicknames.

Ever since that realization, you tried to keep it hidden, to process it on your own. After all, guys didn’t like you. You weren’t exactly the kind of girl they wanted.

Logan noticed how you got more nervous around him, your heart beating faster, how you seemed to stumble over your words more often than not around him. At one point, he asked Jean about it, to which she revealed her and Ororo did what he couldn’t.

He ended up outside of your office, hearing you talk to one of the senior students about which colleges were the best for his major. You assured him that just because it was September, doesn’t mean he’s too late to apply.

Logan knocked on the door as you said that the door was unlocked. He hadn’t seen your outfit today, a white pencil skirt paired with a skintight, long sleeve peach colored shirt. Your hip was leaning against the front of the desk next to where the student was sitting.

Kean looked between the two of you, before quickly gathering his things and the brochures you gave him for various colleges.

"Remember to look into some engineering programs! I’d think they’d be great for you!" You called out after Kean, watching as the student hurried out of your office. The door clicked shut behind him, and you sighed, thinking of the next round of paperwork waiting on your desk. You were about to walk around your desk to sit down when you noticed Logan still standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes focused on you in that intense way he often did.

"Sweetheart, got a minute?" Logan's voice was rough, familiar, and held that signature casualness that made it feel like he wasn't really asking.

You blinked, startled for a second before nodding. "Uh, yeah. Sure, Logan. What's up?"

Logan stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning you briefly. "You looked pretty wrapped up in your work. Thought you could use a break."

Your mind raced, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, I’ve been helping some of the seniors with their college stuff," you explained, motioning to the brochures still scattered across your desk. "It's that time of year where they start panicking about applications."

Logan smirked, his arms crossing over his chest. "You always keep yourself busy, don’t ya, doll?"

You rolled your lower lip while humming as your answer. You crossed your arms, watching as Logan came closer to you, standing almost toe to toe with your pointy short peach colored heels.

“You finally figured it out then, didn’t ya?” He asked.

“I- well, uh…” you stammered, suddenly feeling heat rush to your face. Why was Logan looking at you like that? And what did he mean by ‘you finally figured it out’? Were Ororo and Jean right?

Logan’s smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched you fumble over your words. "You’re a genius, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now."

Your heart raced, and you felt your palms start to sweat. Why was he so close? You tried to focus on the conversation, on anything other than how your body was reacting to his presence. "N-noticed what?" you managed to get out, your voice sounding way less composed than you intended.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far more than you were. "How I’ve been flirtin’ with ya for months now," he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.

Your brain short-circuited. Flirting? Logan? Flirting? With you? That didn’t make any sense. Logan flirted with women who were… well, not you. He was the rough-around-the-edges kind of guy who went for women who were confident, flirtatious, and knew how to handle someone like him. You were the awkward  genius who spent more time in the lab than anywhere else. Guys didn’t flirt with you.

"You’ve been—wait, what?" you asked, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "You’ve been flirting with me?"

Logan chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, doll. Pretty sure everyone at the mansion’s noticed by now." His smirk returned as he added, "Except you, apparently."

Your face burned, and you tried to think back. Had he been flirting? The nicknames, the snacks, the casual touches… it all seemed so… normal for Logan. You thought he was just being friendly, maybe a bit protective like he was with some of the younger students.

"I—" You started to say something but stopped, unsure of what exactly to say. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath you. "Why didn’t anyone tell me?"

Logan shrugged. "Didn’t think it was their place. Figured you’d catch on eventually." His gaze softened, and he added, "Didn’t expect you to be this oblivious, though. Kinda cute."

You were sure your face couldn’t get any redder. "I’m not… I’m not oblivious," you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. "I just didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me."

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. "And why the hell not?"

"Because I’m… me!" You motioned to yourself, like that explained everything. "Guys don’t flirt with me, Logan. They’re usually intimidated or just… I don’t know. I’m not the kind of girl guys like."

You didn’t have any friends until you came here, which was sad because you were 24 when you finally had some.

Sure, you tried to make some during college, joined the gardening club and the astronomy club, but whenever you talked people would never really listen to you.

You even tried going on a few dates with some guys from online dating apps. They were your age, but they were in their third year of college while you were already working on two master’s degrees. You even had similarities with a few of them.

One guy liked Star Wars, and you went into a short rant about how the physics of it was wrong and even talked about a bunch of the lore behind it. Same with the other 2 dates you went on, they were all one and done.

Guys didn’t like you. That’s just the way it was.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, doll. You think guys don’t notice you?”

You crossed your arms, feeling defensive again. “I don’t think, I know. Trust me, I’ve tried.” You paused, hesitating before you added, “I’m not exactly… good at this kind of thing. Social stuff, I mean. I’m better at figuring out equations than people.”

Logan stepped closer, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “You’re wrong, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You’ve got this idea in your head that no one’s gonna want you because you’re too smart or too different, but that ain’t true. Not even close.”

You blinked up at him, unsure of how to respond. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter in a way that felt both exciting and terrifying. “I just… I don’t see why you’d be interested in me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re Logan. You could have anyone.”

Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I don’t want just anyone.” His eyes locked onto yours, his tone becoming serious. “I want you.”

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. You had no idea what to say. Logan had been flirting with you—Logan, the gruff, no-nonsense guy you’d come to admire over the past year—and you’d been completely clueless. How could someone like him, someone who seemed so out of your league, be interested in you?

“I… I don’t understand,” you mumbled, still struggling to process everything. “Why me?”

Logan sighed, as if he had been waiting for this question for months. “Because you’re brilliant, Y/N. You’ve got this fire in you, this passion for everything you do. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t let anyone push you around. And you’re so damn kind, even when you don’t have to be.” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell you, but… well, you’re not exactly the easiest person to talk to about feelings.”

You blinked. “I’m not?”

Logan smirked. “No, sweetheart, you’re not. You overthink everything. Makes it kinda hard to tell you I like you without you analyzing it to death.”

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, not really knowing what else to say. “I just didn’t think you… I didn’t think anyone would… you know.”

Logan stepped even closer, so close that you had to sit on the edge of your desk. “Well, I do,” he said, his voice low. “And I’ve been waitin’ for you to figure it out.”

You stared up at him, your mind still reeling. All this time, Logan had been flirting with you, had liked you, and you hadn’t noticed. And now, here he was, standing so close you could feel his breath on your skin, telling you exactly how he felt. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

"Logan, I…" you started, but the words got caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to something like this. Part of you wanted to brush it off as some kind of misunderstanding, but the way he was looking at you, the way he had always looked at you, made it clear that this wasn’t a joke or a misunderstanding.

He really liked you.

Logan smirked at your silence, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Speechless, huh? That’s a first," he teased, his voice low and rough in that way that made your stomach flip.

You shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "It’s just… I didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me. You’re Logan, and I’m…" You gestured to yourself awkwardly. "Me."

Logan frowned slightly, his brows pulling together. "What the hell’s that supposed to mean?"

You shrugged in response, turning your head downward to look down at your lap. It didn’t last long, because Logan put his thumb on your chin, turning your head upright to look at him.

He noticed your expression change, you were someone who was easy to read, never really kept her emotions hidden well, or at least not to him. You went from big doe eyes and sad, pouty lips to flustered. Your eyes were curious and almost nervous and your pink lips, courtesy of the colored lip balm you always wore, were slightly parted.

Logan held your gaze, his thumb gently resting on your chin, and you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken under his touch. He was so close now, close enough that the musky scent of him was filling your senses, making it even harder to think clearly.

"You really think I’d waste my time on someone I didn’t want?" Logan’s voice was low, gruff, but there was a softness to it that you hadn’t heard before.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words were jumbled in your mind, and all you could focus on was the way his rough fingers were still holding your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. The confidence he exuded was overwhelming. How could he be so sure, so calm, while you felt like your brain was on fire?

"Logan, I…" you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his hand, the warmth of his body so close—it was too much.

He let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Doll, you’re overthinking again."

Your lips pressed together into a thin line as you tried to get a handle on your spiraling thoughts. "I’m just… surprised. I didn’t think…" You hesitated, the words feeling clumsy in your mouth. His thumb moved slightly up, still holding onto your chin but now brushing against your lower lip, making it more difficult to concentrate or come up with a single coherent thought.

No one had ever treated you like this, so kindly and… normally. You thought back to the only 3 dates you had ever been on during college, how none of them ever really tried to get to know you, or peel back the layers behind your smarts.

Because you weren’t just smart, you loved gardening, and baking, hell, you even liked to dress cute. And out of all the guys, Logan never treated you like someone different. It was nice to be around someone like that, who embraced who you were rather than try and get you to bury it. Maybe it was his age? You remember reading an article from a psych organization about how younger women like older men because of emotional maturity-

Rough hands cupped your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Hey, stop thinkin’. What the hell could you be thinkin’ about right now?”

You gave a shy smile and shook your head gently, his hands still on your face. “Nothin’,” you mumbled, your voice softer than you intended. You tried to play it off like everything was fine, but Logan wasn’t buying it.

Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, his thumb brushing your cheek now. "You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart." His voice was low, that gravelly tone sending shivers down your spine.

You swallowed, your mind still racing as you searched for the right words. "I just… I don’t get why you’d want me," you admitted, your eyes flicking away from his. "You’re this… badass, Logan. You’ve been through so much. You could have anyone."

His hands stayed where they were, his touch gentle but firm as he guided your gaze back to his. "I told you, doll. I don’t want anyone else. I want you."

You blinked up at him, still unsure of how to respond. It felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, and your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts. On one hand, Logan was the last person you ever thought would have feelings for you. On the other hand, here he was, being painfully honest, and you couldn’t deny the sincerity in his voice.

"I just…" you hesitated, biting your lip, "I don’t know how to do this, Logan. I’m not… I’ve never been good at… people. Relationships. I mean, I’m good at math, science, and solving problems but not—this."

Logan chuckled softly, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You don’t gotta be good at it, Y/N. You just gotta be you." His voice softened, the teasing tone dropping away as he said, "That’s all I’ve ever wanted."

Your breath caught in your throat. He made it sound so simple, like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was a big deal to you. You hadn’t dated much—hardly at all, if you were being honest. Relationships felt like another complex equation you couldn’t quite solve.

"Logan, I…" you started, but he cut you off, his hands dropping from your face to settle on your hips, pulling you just a little closer.

"You overthinkin’ again?" Logan smirked, one eyebrow raised.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your voice quiet. It was hard to concentrate when he was so close, his hands resting on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"That’s what I thought," Logan muttered, leaning in just enough that his forehead almost touched yours. "You don’t gotta figure everything out right now, doll. Just… let it happen."

You stared at him, your mind whirling. "Let it happen?" you echoed, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying.

"Yeah," Logan said softly, his voice rough but soothing at the same time. "Stop tryin’ to solve it like it’s some kinda problem. Just be with me."

You blinked, your heart doing that weird fluttering thing again. Be with him? It sounded so simple when he said it like that. But you couldn’t help the flood of doubt that kept creeping into your mind. What if you screwed it up? What if you weren’t good enough at this? What if—

Logan’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, and he pulled you closer, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. "Y/N, you’re doin’ it again," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble in the space between you. "You’re thinkin’ too much."

You sighed, biting your lip again. "I can’t help it," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed. "That’s just how my brain works."

Logan chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "I know, darlin’. But you don’t gotta do that with me."

His words hung in the air, and you found yourself staring at him, completely unsure of what to say next. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever made you feel like it was okay to just… be. You were always the smartest person in the room, always expected to have the answers, to be the one in control. But with Logan, it felt different. He didn’t expect you to be anything but yourself.

"I…" You trailed off, your throat tightening. "I don’t know how to not overthink things."

Logan’s smirk softened, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as they met yours. "Then I’ll just have to distract you, won’t I?"

Before you could even process what he was saying, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It was like everything around you froze for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to catch up with what was happening.

Logan was kissing you.

Logan.

Was kissing.

You.

Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. It wasn’t what you expected—nothing in your life had ever felt like this. The warmth, the softness of his lips against yours, the way he held you like you were something precious… it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

If you would’ve told your past self from five years ago, hell, even two months ago, that your first kiss would be with the Wolverine, you would’ve thought it was some grand, cosmic joke. But there you were, hands fisting into Logan’s shirt, his lips gently pressing against yours like this was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first kiss would go. Not that you’d spent a lot of time imagining it—honestly, you’d been too busy with equations, papers, and research to even consider the prospect of someone being interested in you. But if you had pictured it, this wouldn’t have been it. Not with a man like Logan.

His rough hands held you in place, strong but careful, as if he was hyper-aware of how delicate you felt in his grasp. You, who could bend nature to your will, whose intelligence far surpassed anyone’s expectations, felt completely and utterly vulnerable in his arms.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t by much. His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and slightly uneven. Logan’s lips curved into a smirk, one you could practically feel against your skin.

“Well,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, “that didn’t seem too bad, did it?”

You blinked up at him, still trying to recover from the shock. “I… I don’t—what just happened?”

Logan chuckled softly, his thumbs brushing small circles into your hips, keeping you grounded when your thoughts were spinning out of control. “I just kissed ya, sweetheart. And unless I’m readin’ the situation wrong, you didn’t mind too much.”

Your mind raced, heart hammering in your chest. “No, I—” You paused, biting your lip as you tried to form a coherent thought. “I didn’t mind. It’s just—”

“Just what?” Logan’s voice softened, his expression growing more serious as he studied your face.

“I wasn’t expecting it.” You swallowed, looking away from him for a moment before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. “I didn’t think someone like you… I mean, I didn’t think you would- I didn’t think anyone would- ”

Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but when you didn’t, he took a step closer. His hand was still resting on your hip, keeping you anchored to him, and the heat of his body was impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think what, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his question press down on you. It was like all the words in your head had turned to static, and you couldn’t figure out how to string a coherent sentence together. "I just… I don’t know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, but his eyes stayed serious. "You don’t know, or you don’t wanna say?"

You bit your lip, your mind still reeling from the kiss. The memory of it—soft, unexpected, but not unwelcome—was playing on a loop in your head. You hadn’t been kissed much, if at all, and the idea that Logan was the one to give you your first real kiss was still something you were trying to process.

But you couldn’t lie, it was nice. You were 25, just had your first kiss, and suddenly you felt like a teenager in a Disney movie.

A grin slipped past your lips. "I just wasn’t expecting you to kiss me, old man," you finally replied, your voice teasing but soft.

Logan’s eyebrows raised, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Old man, huh?" he murmured, his voice dipping into that gravelly tone that always made you feel a bit flustered. "Pretty sure that kiss just proved I’ve still got it."

You laughed softly, your hands still fisted in his shirt, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. Logan’s smirk widened at the sound of your laughter, and you could feel the tension in the air start to ease, just a little.

"Yeah, maybe you do," you replied, your voice soft but teasing as you looked up at him, your heart still beating a little too fast from the kiss. "Guess you're not as rusty as I thought."

Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Rusty?" he repeated, his voice low and playful, with that gravelly edge that made your stomach flip every time. "You seriously thought I was rusty, sweetheart?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite how close he was and how easily he seemed to get under your skin. "I don’t know. I mean, you’re a couple of hundred years old. Thought you might’ve lost your touch."

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as he leaned in just a little closer. "Oh, darlin'," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I ain't lost a damn thing."

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Logan’s confidence was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just that—there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you, a softness in his touch that made your chest feel tight.

"Okay, okay," you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to deflect some of the attention. "Point taken."

Logan grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "Good," he said simply, his thumbs brushing lightly over your hips where his hands still rested. "’Cause I don’t wanna hear any more about me bein’ rusty or old. Got it?"

You nodded, biting your lip as you tried not to smile too much. "Got it."

chapter 3 of Sweet Dreams will be up tomorrow!

[goldfades]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 ─ PB⁵ ft. UCONN WBB MANAGER

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "Okay the fic Idea I was talking about is, Paige scrolling through your phone gallery and seeing the pics you didn’t send her. “Why didn’t you send me this?” and even sending herself some of the photos to her own phone. BUT then, Ms.reader over here didn’t private certain…. provocative and Lewd photos and forgot about them and Paige sees them (her gf just likes taking pictures of her own body🤷🏽 cuz why not)." for my lovely hamster nonnie

─ word count | 1.2k

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion. very fluffy and cute, nothing too rough just some good ol' love making. oral (r receiving), praise, nothing else?? enjoy!!!!

─ ev's notes | ok so this also can be read as a standalone buttt this is part of my uconn wbb manager series!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

YOU WERE SITTING on your girlfriend's bed, glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you tried to finish up some homework.

Paige had your phone in her hand as she scrolled through your camera roll, looking through all the photos you two had taken together over the past few months. Every now and then, she would let out a soft chuckle or an aww as she stumbled upon a particularly sweet or funny photo. You glanced up from your homework every so often, smiling at her reactions.

"Why didn't you send me this?" Paige asked, showing you a selfie of yourself after the gym yesterday. "You looked sexy, wow."

You chuckled, feeling a bit embarrassed but also pleased by her compliment. "I don't know, I guess I forgot to send it," you replied, reaching out to take a closer look at the photo.

Paige laughed, leaning into you as she continued to scroll through the photos. "I'm sending it to myself, that's my new lockscreen."

You rolled your eyes as you chuckled, turning your attention back to your homework. A few seconds later however, you somehow sensed a shift in the atmosphere as you glanced to see what Paige was looking at, only to be faced with a very incriminating photo of yourself wearing practically nothing.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you quickly reached out to grab the phone from her hand, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and panic only for her to pull the phone out of your grasp. "I forgot to delete that, sorry-"

"Delete it? Why didn't you send it to me?" Her tone was unusually serious as she glanced up to meet your gaze. "Shit, I mean that was hot."

You wanted to laugh, if this were any situation you'd want to laugh. However, as you met her now very clouded gaze, you felt your stomach flutter in confusion and maybe something... more?

This wasn't the reaction you expected. You were prepared for embarrassment, maybe even some teasing, but not this. Paige's eyes held a seriousness that seemed out of place in the moment.

"Wait, really?" you stammered, trying to gauge her sincerity. "I thought you'd find it weird or something."

Paige leaned back, a small smirk playing on her lips as she studied your reaction. "Weird? No, of course not baby. You look pretty damn good," she took another moment to study the picture as she wet her lips.

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you at Paige's words, her unexpected compliment sending a thrill down your spine. "You think so?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure whether to feel flattered or apprehensive about her sudden change in tone.

Paige's smirk widened into a mischievous grin. "Oh, I know so," she replied, her gaze lingering on the photo before finally meeting yours. "In fact, I think you're hiding a lot more than just this one picture."

Your cheeks flushed even hotter at the implication of her words. You had never imagined Paige seeing you in such a revealing light, let alone expressing such bold admiration. She'd always teased you, you'd been in this relationship (of some sorts) for long enough for this to be normal.

Somehow, this time it felt more personal.

"You really want to see more?" you asked, your voice betraying a mix of nerves and excitement.

"Don't act so shy now, princess. I mean you took these photos and kept them to yourself. You knew exactly what you were doing," Paige teased, her voice laced with amusement as she leaned in closer, her breath grazing your ear.

Her playful tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you. Despite your initial hesitations, there was something undeniably exhilarating about the prospect of sharing more with Paige.

Before you could even process it, her lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. You let out a soft moan in surprise but slowly melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the heat of the moment. As her hands roamed over your body, you felt a rush of desire coursing through your veins, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of her touch.

Your homework and laptop were long forgotten as she pulled you into her lap. Her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of bruises in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, your fingers tangling in her hair as you arched into her touch, craving more of her intoxicating touch.

"Paige, please," you whined as she hummed in response. You began to grind yourself against her sweats, your whole body shaking in pure need.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire as she met your gaze. "Yes, princess? Please what?" she teased, her voice husky with need.

"I want you," you breathed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation. All you knew was that you needed her to absolutely ruin you.

With a hungry smirk, Paige captured your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. Suddenly, she pushed you back against the bed as you whimpered with need.

Paige found herself in between your legs as she pulled off your silk pajama shorts and then your underwear. You moaned at the sight, your head falling back as she pulled your legs on her shoulders and quickly got to work.

As soon as her tongue met your wet folds, you were already ruined. You moaned at the sensation as your eyes shut, gripping the sheets beneath you. Paige kept gripped your thighs as her tongue delved into your cunt, your whole body seizing up in utter pleasure.

"Fuck," she mumbled into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body. You finally met her gaze as you moaned, her hand finding yours, interlacing your fingers with hers.

Paige took her time, slowly licking up and down you as if you were most delicate thing in the world (and you were ─ at least, in her world).

You arched into her mouth as you felt yourself draw closer and closer to an orgasm, your eyes shutting once again. Paige's tongue began to flick against your clit as you let out a shocked moan, your other hand finding her hair.

"Please, please don't stop. Fuck, P," you babbled on as her tongue began moving faster and faster. "I'm gonna cum, please,"

"Cum on my tongue, princess, let it out," she murmured into your pussy as the knot in your stomach snapped. "Good girl, fuck,"

Paige watched you hungrily as you moaned, your legs wrapped around her head as you came. She closed her eyes as she helped you ride out your high, her hands gripping your hips as you caught your breath.

Paige got out from between your legs and pulled you into a bruising kiss. Your hands found her hair in a lazy attempt to keep her close, your lips moving in sync with hers as the intensity of the kiss deepened. The world around you faded into oblivion as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, consumed by the passion that pulsed between you.

"Mm, I love you," you mumbled into the kiss as she let out a small laugh. She pulled away to really take in your fucked-out state; your messy hair, your half-lidded eyes, your bruised lips. God, she was so whipped.

"I love you too, sweet girl," Paige whispered, her voice filled with adoration as she caressed your cheek, her thumb tracing the curve of your lips.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[gghostwriter]

hi dear author! how are you?

I have a request for Spencer where reader has a head injury and passes out and Spencer's reaction to it and the aftermath. I found your fic around 15 mins ago and I'm in love with them<3

Thank you!!

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: I’m sensing a pattern with the request writing I’m doing—most of them deal with a head injury of some sort but I am having fun trying to make it different the the earlier works. No further editing was done but I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist

Bundle of Nerves. // Spencer Reid

The bright and playful disposition of your kindergarten students was one of things you looked forward to every Monday. How each student would go up to you to chatter about how their weekend went—family went to the park or to the library or to the beach—and how in return, they’ll ask if you also enjoyed the weekend as much as they did. 

But something seemed off today, you really couldn’t specify where it all started. Maybe it was you falling back to sleep after your alarm went off, or maybe it was you missing breakfast, or maybe it was just all of the above. 

Either way, everything was going sideways and it was just about to get worse. The lights seemed darker, the children’s voices were distorted, and the room was starting to sway. Feeling the need to sit down, you were only able to take a couple of steps to your desk before promptly fainting—smacking your forehead on the floor and the children screaming for help.

———

Spencer wasn’t one to wish for a case to land on JJ’s desk but at 1:30pm on a Monday, he found himself twiddling his thumbs and calculating his rocket launches using his expansive brain capacity—all paper filings done and submitted early. He swiveled to face Morgan who was caught red handed about to throw a paper clip in his direction. 

“Hey Kid,” he cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalantly. “You done with your paperwork?”

“Yeah, now I’m thinking of how to improve my rocket magic. Hey do you think if I add more—” 

The vibration of his phone on the table interrupted his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in the unregistered number. Curious but definitely wary, he pressed ‘accept’.

“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Who is this?”

A female voice answered. “Hi Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling from Virginia State Hospital. Y/N had you listed down as her emergency contact. She was admitted—”

The remaining information all sounded muffled. His breathing was spiking up and all he could hear now was the rapid staccato beating of his heart. He couldn’t think straight. Is this what unknowing family members of victims feel when they receive a distress call? Like the rug was pulled under their feet? He couldn’t comprehend what to do, how to—

“Dr. Reid, are you still there?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes—yes, I’ll be there soon.”

Before the voice could say another word, he ended the call, was out of his desk, and up the steps to his unit chief’s office, SSA Aaron Hotchner. 

“Reid, what is it?” the stern BAU leader clocking in the distress painted on the genius’ face.

“I-it’s Y/N. She was admitted at hospital and—”

He nodded. “Go, Reid. I’ll explain to the team and HR.”

With a quick ‘thank you’, he ducked out of the bullpen to the elevator, grateful that he opted to drive to Quantico today rather than take his usual train route.

Maybe he should have borrowed the government owned SUV instead, he thought to himself when he turned to the main road and saw the congestion. Hotch would have understood, he just wasn’t sure how to explain that in paperwork but this counted as an emergency, right? It felt like a life or death situation to him—for him and for you. 

When he exited the bottleneck traffic, Spencer wanted to floor the gas. His foot itched to stomp on the accelerator and worry about the fines later. But the idea of getting caught, being pulled over, and wasting more precious seconds away from your side was enough for him to second guess it—that and his tight white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. 

He should have asked for more information over the phone call but the second his mind registered the words, it went to overdrive and out of the window—his emotions were running high and clouding every logical thought possible. He had an IQ of 187 but all he could think of was you. You, the love of his life. You, his fiancee, lying down on a hospital bed, alone and unconscious. Any man, no matter how smart they are, would react the same way he did when it involves a loved one.

He parked his car at the first slot he could find in the hospital parking lot and ran straight to the reception.

“I’m looking for Y/N. She was admitted a while ago. I-I’m her fiancee.” Spencer hurriedly introduced himself.

The nurse nodded once, stating your floor and room number. Without so much as an acknowledgement, he ran to the nearest elevator and willed it to open any faster.

Spencer felt like he ran a marathon by the time he found your room and seeing you there, lying on your bed—conscious, thank god—took a little weight off his chest. He breathed out your name in relief. “What happened? Did you—did you hit your head?”

Your hand gingerly touched the bandage on your forehead. “I think so. I started to feel faint so I was walking back to my chair. I must have hit my head on my way down—”

He took your hands into his, kissing it. “You had me so worried. Did the doctor say anything? Diagnosis? Cause? Treatment?”

“No. When I came to, only a nurse was here. She left to page the doctor but it’s okay—I feel fine now.”

Spencer opened his mouth, no doubt to chide you about minimizing your pain and health, but then the doctor walked in with a clipboard on hand.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Smith. How are we feeling?”

“She said she was feeling faint before she hit her head. Does she have a concussion? Why did she feel faint—was it stress? Hypoglycemia? Labyrinthitis? Vertebrobasilar insufficiency?” Spencer rattled off.

 “Well, your husband sure knows medical terminology. Are you a Doctor too?” the physician asked.

Spencer’s brows met in between, finding the whole interaction off-putting. Here he was about to have a nervous breakdown and your doctor was as calm as a cucumber. “Fiancee, actually, and yes Doctor, 3 Phds not MD.”

“Impressive, and to answer your questions, Doc. None of the above.” 

His eyes widened. “Then it could be hypo—” 

Dr. Smith smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that either.” He reached into his clipboard, removing a prescription pad, and quickly jotting down medicine. “Here you go. She’ll need to take a capsule a day and I suggest a healthy balanced meal, exercise, and plenty of bed rest.”

Spencer’s eyes widened when he realized what the chicken scratch handwriting said. 

“What—what is it?” You asked in worry as Spencer seemed to have glitched.

The doctor grinned at you.“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.” 

Silence. 

“I-I’m what?!” 

The doctor chuckled. “You’re 3 weeks along so you’re still in the early stages. Your body is still adjusting—the fainting spell was caused by change in your hormones and low blood pressure. I suggest you schedule an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible and get ample rest—” he looked at the couple once more before exiting the room. “—congratulations, again.”

The tears that started to gather in your eyes seemed to bring Spencer back to life. “Oh love, are those—are those happy tears or—?” 

You nodded. “Happy tears, Spence. I can’t believe it!” 

He reached out to hug you to his chest. “I love you, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.” 

You giggled. “I guess we have to tell your team about the baby genius on board, huh?” 

He laughed, remembering how Emily once asked him if he ever planned on having one and here he was about to become a father. 

You gasp, causing him to lean back and look at you with worry—did he hug you too tight? Did you feel— 

“I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress by then! Penny will have a fit! She had this vision and—” 

He leaned down to interrupt your ramblings. 

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, especially if you're turning her into an aunt.”

You smiled, peering through your eyelashes. “Y’know we might have to find a new apartment soon. Just imagining how much shopping Penny would do for our baby genius even before he or she is born is making me shudder.”

He laughed. “Me too, love. Me too.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[itsbeeble]

TRY HARD

SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst

PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)

WC: 8.7k (oops)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff

A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.

The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you. 

And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel. 

“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin. 

“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff. 

“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.” 

“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.” 

“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?” 

“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”

“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”

“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.

“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”

“Please don’t—”

“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”

“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”

You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand. 

College Hunks Hauling Junk!

Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)

Scan HERE to book your appointment!

“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?” 

He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.” 

“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?” 

“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.

This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)

“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.” 

You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier. 

“I’m good, thanks.”

The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room. 

Fucking try hard.

The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers. 

At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you? 

Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.

“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl? 

“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”

“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back. 

“Listen, stripper boy—”

“Juyeon—” 

“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain. 

“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”

“Stripper boy,” you warn.

“…is that there’s a chance?”

“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.

“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”

“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”

“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff. 

“Pretty girl.”

“Because you are a pretty girl.” 

“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it. 

“And then…?” He teases. 

“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”

You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles. 

“Just someone I know.” 

“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl. 

“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”

The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks. 

“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal. 

It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.

For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you. 

That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.

It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him. 

“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.

“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather. 

“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.

“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze. 

“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff. 

“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers. 

“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.

“Do you have anywhere that you go?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.” 

“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first. 

“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment. 

“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile. 

“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?” 

“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”

“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?” 

You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.

“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches. 

“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?

“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”

“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”

“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable. 

“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.” 

“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”

“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue. 

“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”

“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle. 

“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.

Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him. 

“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place. 

“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket. 

His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made. 

The bed.

The one bed in the room. 

“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.

“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth. 

“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”

“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.

“Then where am I gonna sleep?” 

“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?” 

“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.

“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?” 

You stare at him for a moment.

Then another.

And then another.

And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you. 

“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.” 

“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?” 

“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?” 

“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.

Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—

Wait.

…

Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart. 

He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.

It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.

He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over. 

Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out. 

Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him. 

Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat. 

He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.

It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart. 

God, he’s so fucked.

"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you. 

Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay? 

“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.” 

Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought. 

“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand. 

“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand. 

“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”

“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.

“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”

“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.” 

“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.

“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs. 

“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side. 

“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?” 

“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him. 

“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.

“You made fun of me!” 

“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”

“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.” 

“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”

“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”

“I do not.” You groan. 

“You do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do no—” 

Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest. 

You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?

Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him. 

You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance. 

Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine. 

Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did. 

And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly. 

“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”

“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”

“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.

“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”

It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you. 

He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.

“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.” 

“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together. 

“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it. 

“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”

“True.” He nods and lays back down.

“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”

“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”

“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”

“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that. 

“Oops…” 

“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.

“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.” 

When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon. 

Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.

“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”

It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?

There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—

You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much. 

“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks. 

“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him. 

“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—” 

“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”

“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”

Plan A is a bust, then. 

Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out. 

Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door. 

Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon. 

“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?” 

Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”

Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.” 

“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.” 

“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”

“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”

“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”

“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes. 

“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”

“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” 

“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?” 

There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.

“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you. 

“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?” 

He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides. 

“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.” 

“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 

“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”

“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours. 

Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your. 

This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin. 

Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room. 

“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away. 

“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response. 

“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!” 

“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.

“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.” 

You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him. 

“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?” 

There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that. 

With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot. 

“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again. 

You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own? 

“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.” 

You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you. 

“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand. 

He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you. 

“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”

“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth. 

“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.” 

His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction. 

“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy. 

“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”

“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”

“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body. 

Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him. 

You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. 

“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?” 

“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms. 

When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips. 

His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists. 

“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest. 

“That’s what you get for making me wait.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”

“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”

“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.

“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.

“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”

“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully. 

“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.

“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.

“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.

“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."

“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.

"Does it matter?"

"I mean...I guess not?"

"Exactly."

“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.

“Fuck, no.”

“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”

“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”

“Not at all, boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are.”

“…Try-hard.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[alchemistc]

I've already written this a million times between fic I've posted, tag rants, and my notes app, but now I'm thinking again about Buck and Tommy first meeting and:

Howie pulls away from the hug a few seconds too soon for Tommy's liking. It's been a long time since he's seen him in person, since before the car crash, before the stabbing, before all the fucked up shit that's happened to the 118 since he left, and he was maybe hoping for - more.

The LAFD are a bunch of fucking gossips and he's heard his fair share about them all, names passed vaguely around in group chats and ladder bars, stories blown even more out of proportion than all the actual miraculous survival stories. The two guys Howie gestures at with thumbs over his shoulders both look familiar, and he's already trying to place their stories before Howie introduces them. Brown hair-brown eyes-killer jawline gives him a twisted grin as Howie introduces him as Eddie, and he reaches across to shake Tommy's hand, firm and even. Tommy can tell before the handshake is over that he'd served.

That's Diaz. He'd texted Howie the night the kid had been buried fucking alive and somehow lived to tell the tale. He can't quite pull the memory, but Tommy's pretty sure he'd been the one at the 118 who'd been targeted by that crazy sniper, too.

The other one, bright eyed and staring around like a kid in a candy shop, looking like he might vibrate right out of his skin - shocks of bronze in his hair from the overhead lights and eyes cast silver-blue in the twilight, jolts when Howie reaches back and up to smack at his chest, standing at attention and catching Tommy's eye as Howie introduces him as Buck.

Jesus fucking Christ

Tommy's gonna die tonight.

Between Howie's sporadic communication and all the gossip, Tommy knows about Buck. Kid's a magnet for a shit storm. And Tommy's about to fly them straight into one.

"Uh, h-hi," he says, cheeks rounding as he leans in with a devastating smile, hand extended.

Tommy feels like he's been hit by a fucking truck.

"You, uh - call me Evan," he says, and all the air sort of whooshes out of Tommy's lungs at once as he shakes Tommy's extended hand.

Oh.

This is a bad idea. Capital B capital I bad. Tommy can't tell which one of them is extending the handshake too long, but he's actually kind of hoping Howie will fucking say something about it, make Buck-- Evan -- let go.

"He's gonna need that hand back, Evan," Howie says, an inflection on the name that Tommy won't understand for a good few months.

He ducks his head bashfully, shakes up, down, one more time, before he lets go, and Tommy can feel his own gaze chasing the silver-blue sparks of his irises as they dip out of view. Shit. Fuck.

This is fine. Tommy's worked with plenty of attractive guys. He's worked with plenty of guys he's felt a spark with, right out the gate. He's a fucking professional. He's flown out of enemy gunfire, into firestorms fed by 80 mile-per-hour winds. This is fine.

From what he remembers of the early days at Harbor, when he'd kept up better with Howie, this Buck guy isn't even in the wheelhouse of men who'd be interested, anyway. So. That's that.

"Nice to meet you, Evan," Tommy says, and doesn't miss the pursed lips and raised brows shared between Diaz and Howie when Evan's face lights up like a Roman candle, head tipping back up at an angle and his smile wide wide wide -- too wide for the suicide mission they're about to undertake.

Christ.

"You too, Tommy," Evan says, and Tommy sticks his hands in the pockets of his flight suit to keep from doing something insane like press his fingertips into the pink-swatched skin over his brow that might be a birthmark.

[savannahsdeath]

This thought popped in my head and I need it!!!!

(only if you want to!)

Imagine reader and Ellie went out to the mall with there friends and the entireeee day Ellie was just thinking about bending reader over and doing her then and there because she was just looking so good with her little ponytail and skirt and the way she would pick up the cutest little clothes and ask Ellie if she thinks they would look good on her. Then when they get home Ellie just goes absolutely feral and fucks her with no remorse. :(((

I'm literally going feral over this thought

im not a shopping person but this? omg.

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! obv smut, strap (r!receiving)

writers note: i loved the idea sm i literally stopped writing my enemies to lovers fic just to write this one🫣sorry it took me so long to post it, i struggled with choosing what to post first !!

You were going out shopping with your girlfriend and some friends. Ellie isn't really an outgoing person, but when it's about you and shopping, she can't wait to see you in all the cute clothes she knows she will buy you. Of course she'll never admit it but you knew she enjoys it as much as you do.

As you make your way into the store, you can see her eyes light up at the sight of all the different styles of clothes. She takes the lead and starts pulling at all sorts of clothing to bring over for you to try on, eager to see you wearing all her favorite things.

The changing rooms had a lot of space inside, so she entered one with you, sitting down on the little bench. While you were taking your previous clothes off, she intensely stared at her phone. She couldn't stand seeing your bare skin and it would be hard for her to control herself otherwise, but you were clueless.

When you changed into a cute, feminine skirt and top, she finally turned her eyes in your direction. Her gaze was judging but not in a bad way - she looked you up and down before smirking.

"Spin." Ellie simply ordered and you obviously did so. You had no idea she told you to do that because of the way your pink underwear shows when the skirt rolls up in the air at your movement. She cleared her throat and nodded, trying to hide her thoughts. "Yeah, looks good."

You frowned at her lack of enthusiasm, not realizing she's actually boiling inside. You were so oblivious it was actually funny, even your friends knew damn well what was going on.

You tried the rest of the clothes Ellie picked for you, not getting the reaction you'd like to each time, but you couldn't blame her.

Oh, little did you know how much she just wants to bend you over and fuck with her strap, she obviously had on, just in case she won't be able to control herself.

After a few other shops and a whole bag of clothes, you came into one with small changing rooms and made Ellie wait outside. She was standing in front of the curtains, pretending to be unbothered, but the way she impatiently kept asking you 'ready?' every-fucking-second said otherwise.

"Wait, wait, the zipper won't close!" You said, trying to lock a pretty, formal, red dress you knew you'll wear like one time - for Christmas or something.

She rolled her eyes and came in, standing so close behind you, you could feel the bulge in her jeans. She zipped it without struggle, placing her head on your shoulder as she looked at the mirror in front of you both. Her hands were sliding up and down your sides as she kissed your neck.

"You look fucking amazing." She whispered and smiled, seeming almost proud of your appearance.

"Is it worth buying, though?" You asked, turning in all directions to see it from every angle. "It will just collect dust in the closet for the whole year until I decide it's time to..."

She laughed, cutting you off. "Jesus, hush. I can afford it... Oh, and trust me, I'll make you wear it."

You finally fully turned around, cupping Ellie's face in your hands and kissing her for only a few seconds. "You spend too much money on me."

"Are you complaining?" She chuckled with a smug look on her face as you stayed silent. "That's what I thought."

After running around the shops for the whole day, you all met in a restaurant. Ellie was sitting in her usual men-spread position and you placed yourself between her legs, not really caring it may be weird. Her hands rested awfully near the hem of your skirt, wrapped around your waist. Sometimes when you were grinding too much, she'd just tug on it to warn you, so no one would notice your behaviour.

Sometimes, when your little movements didn't stop, she'd whisper something in your ear in almost threatening way, even though you wasn't really teasing her intentionally.

On your way home, she was walking faster than usually. You couldn't even call it walking together, she was just pushing you forward.

You tried to slow down or build a conversation but miserably failed every time.

As soon as she brought you back to your shared apartament, she closed the door and immediately started kissing your neck, slowly pushing you towards the bed.

You quickly understood why she acted so weird before. "Oh, Ellie, so you just wanted that the whole day?" You chuckled as she nuzzled into your skin. "And you kept silent instead of telling me?"

She dropped the bag of clothes as soon as you entered the bedroom, your teasing words clearly pissing her off even more than having to watch you in all those cute little skirts back in the shop.

"What the fuck was the whole dinner scene for?" She asked, frustrated, hurriedly undressing you. "Can't sit still? Seriously?"

You laughed, even though you knew what waits for you isn't so funny.

She wasn't teasing your cunt for too long before filling it with her cock, waiting for the right moment to catch you off-guard. It worked as well as she expected to, you moaned and your eyes quickly turned glossy as your thighs clenched.

She kept going for so long, you didn't bother to hold back your tears anymore. Your hips were sore from the way she held them, knowing she won't be able to hit the right spot if you'll move. Your hair started to stick together from the sweat and tears mixed together, making the pillow uncomfortably wet. Your god-knows-which orgasm approached but you weren't able to say anything about it to Ellie as you lost the ability to speak like a thousand thrusts ago. You couldn't decide whether it's a good or bad feeling. Yes, you loved the feeling of her deep inside you to the point you can actually see her in your stomach. But no, you didn't feel strong enough to keep going. Ellie seemed to notice that.

"If you want to stop, just tell me." She said in the most taunting tone she could.

She knew you're not able to 'just tell her'. She noticed the only thing coming from your mouth are moans, occasionally maybe her name, but really rarely.

She reached to wipe your tears away. "Now, that's just adorable. And a little pathetic. Should I slow down, huh? Should I?"

You nodded, realizing your vision isn't actually black, you were just desperately squeezing your eyes shut like it'd make you feel any better. You looked up at her with your teary eyes, still imploringly moving your head up and down.

"What does that even mean? Just speak up!" She laughed.

Your eyes closed again, as your release came. Your mind went blank, just like everything else - your vision, feeling and other senses.

Did you pass out?

It all came back after a few seconds, when Ellie finally stopped and leaned in to kiss you, what woke you up like Sleeping Beauty.

"Oh, sorry babe. Got carried away. I bet you can't really blame me, though." She winked as she started going down on you again.

"Els- what are you...?" You managed to say, stopping to take a breath after each word.

"Gotta clean you up." She smirked and you could already feel her tongue on your clit.

It felt so sensitive, so new, you cried out and your thighs tensed, but didn't close as Ellie held onto them. She was so strong compared to your weakness now, they didn't move a millimeter.

"I'll be fast, this time." She reassured you, as your body squirmed, hoping to get away.

But oh, how much you actually wanted to stay like that. The sensitiveness made you feel the texture of her tongue so precisely, you hoped to still remember it tomorrow...

[moonstruckme]

hi, love! just wanna say first of all that i love your writing and your account. keep up the good work!

second of all, i was wondering if i could put in a sort of specific request? i'm currently on my period and the bloating is making me feel really bad about my body ☹️ so i was hoping maybe you could write a fic where Steve comforts Reader when she's going through something like that?

feel free to disregard this if it's too heavy of a topic, i know it can be triggering to talk about things like this for some people.

wishing you all the best! 🫶🏻

- @honeysuckleharringtons 🍯💛

Thanks so much babe!

cw: period cramps, insecurities arounds stomach/bloating

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 861 words

You think your favorite place has to be lying between Steve’s legs, with one of his hands clasped in yours and the other on your boob. If you focus really hard, you can hear his heart beating underneath your ear. You’re watching some mindless sitcom, trying to distract yourself from this blessedly mild round of cramps and silently debating whether having chocolate ice cream is worth getting up and going to the store to get it. But if Steve keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand like this, you might melt right into the couch and then the decision would be made for you. 

It happens so gradually you almost don’t even notice. Steve knows to be gentle with you when you’re sensitive like this, his hand massaging the fat of your boob kindly before grazing lower to rub at the skin just beneath it. Then it goes lower still, and you tense when he dips under the hem of your shirt and takes a handful of your stomach in his grasp. 

Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice that you’ve stopped breathing, kneading at the supple chub of your middle absentmindedly, but you lower your hand to his, bringing it back up into comfortable territory. Then he looks at you, a questioning glance out of the corner of his eye. You pretend not to see. His hand drifts slowly, tentatively, back towards your stomach. 

“Don’t,” you say softly, taking it again before it can get there. It’s not a reprimand so much as a gentle request, but still, Steve’s eyebrows furrow. 

“What’s the deal?” he asks, echoing your mild tone. “I thought stomach rubs were supposed to help with cramps.” 

You soften. “That’s really sweet of you,” you tell him, “but I’m okay. I just don’t love the idea of my stomach being, like, perceived right now.” 

“Perceived?” Steve angles his head to see you better, hand resting on the flat of your chest. “Why, what’s wrong with it?” 

“It’s just bloated.” You sink a bit further between his legs, avoiding his stare. “It’s like, remember that time I came over without telling you and you didn’t want me to see your hair first thing in the morning?” 

“Yeah, you mean the time you told me to stop being a priss and get over it? That time?” 

You chuckle. “Right, well, I guess it’s kind of like that.” 

Steve hums, playing with your fingers distractedly. “Okay,” he says after a minute, “I just want to preface this by saying that I really like you, and I think you’re smart and cool. Okay?”

He leans over until he can see your face, and you nod warily.

“You’re being stupid.” 

A laugh startles out of you, but Steve doesn't give you a chance for rebuttal. 

“You’re hot, babe.” He says it deadpan, like it’s a fact he had to memorize in school. “Like, smoking hot. The idea that you would give a shit, much less think I would give a shit, about your stomach being bloated is insane. And you trying to keep me from touching it is, like, practically criminal. Aren’t your tits bloated too?” 

“Um,” you hesitate, somehow more self-conscious than you had been when this began, “yeah?” 

“Right,” he says proudly. “And not to be a creep, but I’ve kind of been enjoying the shit out of those for the past couple of hours.” 

“Steve.” You laugh awkwardly, squirming underneath his gaze. “That’s different, and you know it.” 

He shrugs, looking you plain in the face. “Not to me. Listen, babe,” he drops his voice into a more sincere register, “I like you—your stomach, your tits, all of it—all of the time. And I think it’d make you feel better if you let me rub your stomach for you right now, so just let me, and if I start to find you any less hot, I promise to let you know.” The implication in his tone is clear: like, when pigs fly. 

You look at him for a while. Steve can surprise you with his stubbornness sometimes. His eyelashes don’t so much as flicker under your perusal. 

“Okay,” you sigh, getting comfortable again in his lap. “Fine, have at it.” 

“Yes,” he hisses, his hand going back down and taking in a greedy handful of your swollen belly. You start to tense, nerves making your head go staticky, but gradually you’re able to relax. Steve with his hands on you is no foreign thing. He starts to push down tentatively, asking you to coach him on where you need it the most until he’s gently massaging over the ache. You let your eyes slip closed. You honestly hadn’t expected it to bring quite so much relief. 

“Did Robin put you up to this?” you ask quietly. 

Steve’s soft chuckle confirms your theory. “You’ve got her to thank for the chocolate ice cream in the fridge, too.” 

A smile spreads across your face, and you can hear him laugh again at how blissed-out you must look. “Remind me to give her a hug the next time I see her.” 

“You could just give it to me instead," he says. "I’ll pass it along.”

[vaultdwellerbarbie]

chasing shadows

javi rivera x f!reader (8.5k wc)

summary after the trauma of losing three friends, your boyfriend javi becomes incredibly distant and leaves for the military with as little as a note. when he finds out that kate had helped you get a job with her in new york upon asking her to come back to oklahoma with him, neither of you are sure how to proceed

content warnings smut, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), angst with a happy ending, trauma/near death experiences, probably more than half of this is tooth-rotting fluff, heavy mentions of freckles i'm so sorry i love them, idiots in love trope

hi all!!! i'm moving tomorrow and may not have time to write full fics until august 4th - if anyone has any hc requests for any or all characters pls send them almost a week without posting fics abt my beautiful twisters characters makes me sad

When you were a witness to three of your closest friends dying, and happened to only escape by the skin of your teeth, you figured that it couldn’t get much worse than that. 

Coping with what had happened was difficult, but you had survived. Kate had survived - even though Kate ran to New York City - and your boyfriend, Javi, had survived. So long as you had Javi with you, you reasoned, you were going to be able to recover from what had happened. You had lost them, but you hadn’t lost the person who you loved more than anything.

Kate, before leaving for Manhattan, encouraged you to keep him close. She had watched the beginning of your relationship - really, she had taken part in it. Her and Addy had been the ones that played matchmaker to get the both of you together since they were absolutely sick of watching you pine over each other like needy teenagers. She had lost her partner in the storm, and she was a constant reminder that you were lucky that you still had Javi. She reminded him that he was lucky that he still had you, too, since you had been by her side when the storm hit. You didn’t stay back with him, data collection wasn’t your role in the group. 

When you came back, he had to search hospital after hospital to find the two of you. Javi had no idea whether you were alive or not, and that was what killed him the most.

In the hospital, he promised to never leave your side, just as he had promised to Kate that he wasn’t going to take your relationship for granted. He had almost lost you, and he vowed that he was never going to allow himself to lose sight of you again.

For the first few months, you tried to find purpose in your life. While Javi was struggling to even think of a place where he could work, you ended up working at a local news station in the meteorology department. Javi wasn’t bringing any money home, but you didn’t expect him to. He moved in with you for a while, and you had hoped that the two of you were going to be able to recover. 

The first time you saw him smiling again was the first sign of hope you had that he was going to be able to get better, to at least get himself out of the house for more than the few hours that you went out with him. That hopefulness ended up being foolish, though. 

Javi did end up deciding to to out more, just not with you. Not with… anyone that he knew, and he certainly didn’t get a local job.

In a note that he left on your nightstand, seemingly after sneaking out in the early hours of the morning, he let you know that he had made a decision to join the military. Some part of you wanted to understand that he was coping, but you were coping too. You had done everything in your power to be there for him, to support him, to help him find some sort of peace in his life, and after promising to never let you out of his sight, he decided that he couldn’t find that peace with you in it. 

At first, you tried moving in with family. You couldn’t stand the idea of being alone for even a second, and you now had to add heartbroken onto the loss of your friends and your near-death experience. It was the very next day after his unannounced departure that you decided to move in with family, the very first time that you questioned if you had a purpose on the planet at all or if you were just being thrown into a sick joke after a sick joke until you finally got the memo that your time on this Earth was limited. 

Living at home lasted for about a week and a half before you reached out to Kate. She was, of course, dismayed that Javi had left without doing anything more than leaving a note. You still had his phone number, you could have reached out to him, but after the first day, you didn’t even consider it. He had chosen to break his promise, and you weren’t sure that you wanted him to respond. Did you want to hear his voice? Did you want to have a text message read and ignored by him? The risk felt like it outweighed the reward. So, while you were technically the one who went no-contact, it was his own choices that led you down that path. 

A day after your phone call with Kate, she called you back to let you know that there was an opening within her organization. It was more akin to what you had been doing, working in the meteorology department, but you would be reporting to a partner of the company and delivering the forecast on the news. The job sounded daunting, just speaking in front of that many people seemed scary to you, but it also seemed like a fresh start.

Plus, some petty, juvenile part of your brain wanted Javi to turn the weather on and be forced to see you one way or another. Granted, he probably wasn’t getting Manhattan-local weather wherever he was stations, but it was the thought that counted. 

So, with a little fee for breaking your lease early, you moved into a shoebox apartment in Manhattan with a single roommate because you didn’t trust yourself to have a place all to yourself. Not with your deteriorating mental health. 

After a while, you fell into the rhythm of things. Romance was something that never came back to you, but you also never looked for it. Sometimes, you considered doing something to bring some sort of romance back into your life. Mainly, you would try to go to a nice bar after work and consider bringing someone home after having yet another night’s sleep haunted by dreams of Javi and painful memories of the tornado. Each time, if someone got a little too close, you got clammy and ran. Maybe it was a refusal to have your heart broken again, or maybe it was because you just couldn’t find anyone who compared to him in your mind.

At one point, years later, you had received a message from Javi. Rather than send an actual apology, he just asked if you could call him. Naturally, rather than confronting your feelings and your past, you pretended that he had the wrong number. Was it the mature decision? Not at all. But, considering the fact that he had run away with little consideration for your feelings to do something that he had never once mentioned as being something that he was interested in, you weren’t convinced that the mature decision was something that he actually deserved.

It wasn’t until he showed up at the office that you forgot how to behave. 

Having decided to visit Kate in the morning to bring her coffee, something that you did every morning if she was starting after you, you didn’t expect to end up having her tell you to ‘come along’ to the conference room since she was certain that it wasn’t something you could at least sit outside of. Breakfast together was something sacred to you both, and everyone knew that. She, of course, could never have anticipated that the person that she was meeting with was the person who’s face, smile, freckles, and cold exit haunted your every waking moment whenever you let your mind wander to what could have been. 

Now, in your mind, there were two options. Option one, you could choose the flight response and leave the room just as quickly as Javi had turned to face you. Or, option two, you could choose the fight response and get into an argument with him right then and there about why he had done what he had done and how it had hurt you. Instead, you decided upon a secret third option in which you stood there silently, refusing to meet his eyes, playing with the sleeve of your shirt while he spoke with Kate.

If it weren’t for Kate dragging you along with her, you probably would have remained glued to that office floor for the rest of the work day just trying to figure out if what had just happened was real. But what had happened was real, and even though he had changed his hair and come back with a new look, he was still Javi. He still looked at you as though he was still in love with you even though you were certain that he never was, and he was still the person who had made you question if romantic love even existed. 

What began as an invitation for just Kate to come to Oklahoma, ended up being an invitation for the both of you to come. Both of you rejected it, but while Kate rushed out of the diner, you remained glued to your seat - this seemed to be a common occurrence.

“Are you going to come?”

“What?” That being the first thing either of you said to each other was certainly not how you would have ever hoped to reunite with him - but had you ever been hoping to reunite with him to begin with. Your heart was heavy just looking at him. Not just because you remembered the most recently feeling associated with Javi, being pain and heartbreak. But because you remembered the love that you had for him, and how much you adored every feature on his face, how it had become habit for you to trace and count the freckles on his skin and to stare at him when he smiled like he hung the moon in the sky. That pain went a lot deeper than feeling betrayed, because it took everything in you to not ask him if you could ever try again. 

“Are you going to come to Oklahoma?”

“Oh, uh, you heard Kate… so. I should probably get going, it was nice seeing you.”

“Wait-”

“I’ve gotta go. Late for work.” 

Without giving him another glance, you almost sprinted out of the door and back to the office. 

The rest of the day was filled with pain for you, pain even with Kate’s company because all you could think about wasn’t how he had hurt you, but how much you missed him. You almost wanted to text him, to tell him that you’d go. If you were being honest, you genuinely were interested in what he was describing. If it was what he said it was, perhaps what you had all wanted to have as an end goal to begin with was possible. But, beyond that, you knew that you were never going to stop missing him; you knew that you would never stop being in love with him.

Still, you held firm in your position to not reach out - how could you even explain to him that he actually did have the right number without sounding juvenile? Maybe you shouldn’t worry too much about that, since he was the one that left you to begin with. But you still worried, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to text him because as far as you were concerned, his efforts to patch things up had been abysmal at best. 

The next morning, Kate was incredibly forward with her desire to go back to Oklahoma. That was how you ended up on a plane with her even though you weren’t one hundred percent certain that you were making the right decision. It was one thing to go back to the place where you experienced your worst trauma, another to do the exact same thing you were doing that traumatized you in the first place, and it was only made worse with the added knowledge that you were going to be doing it all alongside the person who had left you more broken than you already were to begin with. 

Arriving in a place that was once so familiar to you should have felt like coming home after a long time away. In a sense, it did. Everything was something that you recognized at least in some capacity, and you couldn’t proclaim that you didn’t feel some sort of familiarity when Javi came to pick yourself and Kate up from the airport, but that certainly didn’t aid with your discomfort. Regardless of how comfortable you wanted to portray yourself, you were incredibly, incredibly worried about spending a week with Javi. In general, you just weren’t sure that you could handle it. Especially since he had taken the time to learn how to dress and smell nicely, rather than you just finding him attractive in anything he wore.

Still, you couldn’t deny that he would still be attractive in anything regardless of what it was. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how upset with him you were, you couldn’t deny that you still found him to be the most attractive person you knew - but maybe that was jut because you were in love with him.

The first day was a bit rocky for everyone. Kate hadn’t been able to go through with the chase and you had been so distracted with trying to help her that you weren’t able to do much to stop her. When she rushed you all into the car, you presumed that she knew what she was doing; Kate always knew was she was doing, so you trusted her. When it became clear that she didn’t, that she was just afraid, you could understand why. You had seen a few tornadoes since the last one, lived through them since you didn’t leave immediately, so you were a bit more desensitized to it. But chasing again was a different story, and it invoked a lot of memories that you had hoped would stay buried in your subconscious until you returned home at the very least. 

When you were able to return to your motel, you ended up spending part of the night out talking to some of the people tailgating in the parking lot. Javi had invited yourself and Kate, though you were certain that he knew just as well as you did how awkward it was going to be. That was why he didn’t mind so much when you broke off from awkward, stiff conversations to talk to Dani and Lily. They were, technically, the rivals to Storm Par, but he had done enough damage to your relationship and didn’t really feel any desire or need to do anything more to it.

Although you were a bit nervous to look at him, you would have been entirely blind to miss the longing glances. How every time you smiled - according to Lily - his entire face lit up before he started ‘pouting like you kicked him in the nuts’. When the Wranglers started dissipating into their rooms, the groupies that followed them did, too. There were only a few remaining stragglers, two of which being yourself and Javi.

“Thank you for inviting me.” Your voice was quiet, but your words were the same that you would give to a friend or a relative inviting you out for something or another. It should have been nothing more than that, it should have meant nothing more than that, but you knew that it meant something else. Even though you’d barely spent any time with him directly, you’d spent some time with him, a lot more time than you had since he left.

“Anytime, you should-” Javi paused, walking you to the steps of the motel. You let him walk up with you, it was the gentlemanly thing to do. Any man would do the same thing, was what you reasoned to yourself, even if it meant nothing since you were no longer in a relationship. “You should come out more often.”

“To Oklahoma? That would be pretty expensive.” You knew what he was really saying, but some part of you wanted to deflect it as much as you could.

“No- well, if you want to. But, no, I mean while you’re here. These don’t really stop unless something really bad happens. You know that.” You did know that, you used to do this with him all the time. The difference, though, was that even before you were dating him you spent the entire night glued to his side. Whether he was making you laugh, or it was the other way around - or, even, you just sat closely together because you liked being close together. 

For a moment, your mind was lost in a memory of a tailgate after a chase, a relatively calm chase at that. It was a bit busier outside than usual, not quite as humid as it could have been so more people were out and enjoying the weather and the company. You, however, got a little cold after a while. Sitting next to Javi, he noticed. He lent you his jacket, he let you fall asleep on him, and he held you until he felt just a little bit unsafe sitting outside since most people were in bed and it was getting incredibly late. That was the night in which you realized that you loved him, but now you were just left wondering if it ever really mattered just how much you loved him - how much you still love him. 

“Maybe, depends how tired I am I guess.” You responded, finally reaching the door to your motel room. You expected to just hear him bid you a goodnight, but you felt him lightly place a hand on your shoulder. 

Turning to face him, your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed how close he actually was. 

“Sorry.” Javi dropped his hand from your shoulder, but he almost seemed like he didn’t want to do so.

“It’s okay.” Your voice was meek, because a part of you craved his physical touch more than anything, just- something. A hug, even, a handshake. Something, after being apart for so long. You wanted him close more than anything, but that felt like it was something entirely out of your reach at this point. 

“I just wanted to talk to you- I wanted to tell you that I fucked up.”

“With the scanners?”

“No, I- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry about- I shouldn’t have left you like that, I regret it every day and I know nothing I can say to make it up to you but I just want you to know.”

You weren’t sure what to say, what you could say without crying. You wanted him to apologize years ago, but you also weren’t sure if anything he could ever do or say could make it up to you. 

“Why didn’t you at least keep in contact? I would’ve been okay with you going anywhere, even the military, if you didn’t cut me out. You know I would have supported you.” Just as you had supported him every day that you were together. He knew that, you knew he knew that. It was why it made no sense to you that he seemed to feel as though you wouldn’t be okay with what he had chosen to do. Realistically, you would have missed him, but you would have understood because you truly just wanted him to be okay. 

“I was a coward, that’s why. It had nothing to do with you, I messed up, not you.” Javi seemed to be struggling to find the words he was looking for - he had an expression on his face that was similar to one you had seen Kate pull, one that meant he was trying to find a way around expressing information that made him uncomfortable to even think about again. “I had so much guilt, I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. I’m sorry- you never should have been in the field, not without me, and you needed someone who can protect you, but I missed- I miss you. I miss you so much.” 

“That was never your fault, Javi.” You hated that he felt guilty for not doing more to help, for losing people he loved and almost losing you and Kate as well. Even though you were always upset with him for going without saying anything, you hoped that he had been able to find some sort of peace within himself in the process. He never seemed to conquer that guilt, but you hoped that he would. “I miss you more than anything.” You admitted, your eyes locked on his for only a brief moment before you were in his arms again.

You weren’t entirely sure who initiated the hug, but you couldn’t get enough of having him this close again, of the warmth coming off of his body. He was always so beautiful to you, and even though he looked different now, he was still the most beautiful, warm person you had ever had the absolute pleasure of knowing. A small part of your mind hated how much you still loved him despite everything, but another part of your mind was just happy to have him close. 

The feeling of his face pressed against you made you want to lean in closer, to hold onto him like it was the absolute last thing you were going to do. But, eventually, you had to pull away, to look at him, to speak more to him. 

“I lied about my phone number. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, not looking entirely surprised by that. “I probably deserved that.”

“Do you want to, um, do you want to talk about it more?”

“Please.”

So, for about three hours, you sat with Javi in the motel-room bed, discussing everything that had transpired and where it went wrong. At first, it almost just seemed like a series of apologies. Apologies that morphed into telling each other how your lives had been during the time that you were apart. Story tellings that morphed into you laughing together like nothing had ever happened, which morphed into you letting him hold you while you fell asleep and he practiced being transparent and telling you that he would probably leave while you were asleep since he had a meeting in the morning. 

Even though you fell asleep cuddled up to him, you rejected the impulses to kiss him again, to tell him that you were still terribly in love with him and that he should know. You, still planning on going back to New York, couldn’t be the one to do the very same thing that he had done to you and leave him alone

The next day should have been fine, and it was until the storm. The storm that left you hiding with a bunch of other people for shelter - without any of the people who you cared about the most. You knew that Javi had something to handle with his work, and you knew that Kate was with the cowboy that seemed fond of her. So, you decided that you wanted to explore. Since you hadn’t been around in a while, you wanted to re-experience the things that had once been so familiar to you before everything had gone wrong and you had decided to leave. 

For a while, it felt nice to wander around. But that didn’t last, and by the time you found Javi, you were thoroughly convinced that there was a chance you were never going to see him again.

“Please, please call me if you get stuck in a storm. I just need to know that you’re okay.” Javi’s voice was shaken, even though there were more things that were burdening him. Namely, Kate. Kate was burdening his mind because of their disagreement, because she had taken the car that let her use earlier in the day and run somewhere with it. But he was also shaken because he remembered what it felt like to almost lose you before, and he couldn’t do it again.

“Javi- I have to go back to New York.”

“What? No, no, you can-”

“The motel’s kinda out of service.”

“Stay with me, please. Just stay with me.” 

Staying with Javi was a slippery slope. If you had a vehicle, you could have driven to the family home. As it stood, that was too far away, and renting a car at this hour when a storm had just hit town was out of the question. If you wanted to, you could wait it out in the airport, eventually get an extremely early-morning trip back to Manhattan. Or, you could stay with Javi. The issue with staying with Javi was that you were worried that, if you did, you would never want to leave.

“Please, just one night.” Javi had been petrified of losing you, you knew that. “Just so I know you’re okay.” 

“One night.” 

It was almost sad how badly you wanted to pull him closer, to kiss him because a small part of you was worried that you were never going to be able to again since you were so ill-prepared for that storm. Instead, you settled on giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek and let him drive you back to where he lived. 

For about an hour you tried to sleep alone in his room while he slept on the couch, but when you couldn’t stop tossing and turning you found yourself lying awake. The underlying fear that another surprise would come from mother nature that evening was something that you couldn’t fully shake, even though it was incredibly unlikely. But then there was Javi. As much as you tried to think about something else, to distract yourself, all you could really think about was him. You hated that he was sleeping on the couch in his own home, that this bed smelled so much like him.

Finally deciding that you had enough, you got up from the bed and walked into the main room. He was still awake, texting one of his co-workers from the looks of it. There was a deep frown on his face, his eyebrows furrowed as he read whatever he was being sent. Even though he had denied earlier that he felt wrong about what he was doing while he was talking to Kate, it was clear that some part of him did. Maybe, though, it was her that got through to him and made him question if he was okay with his own actions or not.

“Javi?”

“You’re still awake, do you need anything?” He questioned, turning the phone off and giving you his full attention.

“You shouldn’t sleep out here, it’s not right.” 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

As you walked closer to the couch, Javi moved into a sitting position so you had room to sit beside him. Theoretically, you could have chosen to sit on the opposite end of the couch. Instead, your body naturally decided to sit closer to him than you needed to.

“I’m not comfortable being alone right now.” It was something that you didn’t really want to admit, even to yourself. Growing up surrounded by storms, chasing them, it was something that you were used to. But you had almost died doing this before, and you had been caught entirely off guard by this one. Showing fear in the face of something that you were used to made you feel weak, and Javi could see the insecurity in your eyes when you told him that. That’s why he didn’t give any more thought to his own worries and agreed to join you in the bed. 

It didn’t take more than five minutes for you to swallow your pride and cuddle up to him, and his warm and welcoming arms allowed you to hear just how quickly his heart was beating. You couldn’t deny that you missed the feeling of his warmth, of his touch, of being with him like this. You had never stopped missing him, even though you tried to convince yourself that you were okay and at peace with what had happened. While you had predominantly found peace with your trauma, you could never find it with the idea of not having Javi in your life.

The feeling of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin distracted you from your thoughts, your mind beginning to slow down as you were lulled to sleep. 

When you woke up, you almost expected Javi to have already left. Last night was chaotic, and given the nature of his company, you were certain that he was going to have a lot to deal with. But there he still was, fast asleep with his phone still charging on the night stand. Often, you woke up before him when you were still together. It was how you got so good at making breakfast, even though your heart was always warm when he made an effort to get up early to make you breakfast instead. 

There was an urge within you to get up and do what you always did when you woke up before him, but you had no idea how long he could stay after he woke up or what he even had in his kitchen. It felt like overstepping your boundaries to go in there and just start cooking without even asking first. 

Besides, you were content to just lay there watching him. You always liked having time to observe him, to count the freckles on his face and enjoy the sight of him entirely relaxed. Even though you were both a little bit older, and he had cut his hair and shaved, he was still the man who you once knew. He was a little wiser now, though. A little more responsible than he was when you were with him before. 

As nice as it was, you grew worried after about thirty minutes. Assuredly, it was getting late and he needed to get up. Having lost your phone during the storm, you also had business that you were going to take care of during business hours. Mainly, though, you knew that Javi was messaging people about work late into the night, and as much as you wanted to watch him and let him rest, you also didn’t want him to get into any sort of trouble. Glancing toward the nightstand again, you finally found a small digital clock - it was partially concealed by a cup, but with a quick movement you finally took note of the time. It was a little bit after eleven in the morning, and you were certain that Javi should have been up by now.

After a momentary internal debate, you finally decided that you needed to do the responsible thing and wake him up. 

“Javi, I think you overslept.” Your voice was quiet, not wanting to disturb him too much as he blinked awake. You knew that he was never the biggest morning person in the world, so being too harsh with him was just going to make him pout.

“What time is it?”

“A little after eleven.” 

His eyes widened for a second, glancing at the clock. He grabbed his phone to make sure, and from the amount of scrolling he was doing it was clear that he missed a lot. You moved to get off of him, expecting him to drop the phone and run to get dressed as quickly as possible. Instead, he sent a single (long) message and set the phone back down as he turned back to look at you.

“Aren’t you going to get up?”

“The only storm today is pretty small, Scott can handle things for one day.” Scott seemed to have an easier time handling things than Javi did to begin with, though you were certain it was because he had a lot less of a heart than Javi did. “We weren’t planning on chasing today, so unless the predictions get upgraded…”

“What happened to mister responsibility?”

“I’m doing the responsible thing.” 

“By calling out of work?”

“By spending the day with you, I have more responsibilities than just my job.” Even though he wasn’t in a rush to get to work, he did still sit up. You sat up with him, your heart beating a bit faster than it was before. Javi was being somewhat presumptuous, but you had slept in the same bed as him for two nights in a row. If you had no interest in spending time with him, he would know that. But, that wasn’t the case. “Wanna get lunch?”

So, you got lunch with him. You spent probably too much time at the restaurant with him, and for the first time, you didn’t really think about the past. Really, you didn’t need to. You and Javi had both changed, but in a lot of ways, you were still the same. Some tiny, miniscule part of your mind was still upset with him, but you knew you had no reason to be anymore. He had done everything he could do to apologize, and was now choosing to spend time with you instead of running off to do work. 

After lunch, he took you to get a new phone. Of course, that took a lot longer than either of you wanted it to take. It wouldn’t be until late afternoon that you were finally able to feel fresh air on your skin again, but, you at the very least came out of that waking nightmare being able to respond to the voicemail that Kate had left you inquiring if you needed a place to stay or if you were going back to New York. When she heard you had stayed with Javi, she was a bit conflicted based upon her tones, but she wanted to figure that you knew what you were doing even if she wholly disagreed with it. 

Finally, Javi decided to take you to a park - a park that it didn’t take you very long to recognize was familiar to you. The weather was looking better after the early afternoon, low-damage tornado. 

“The week’s half over, isn’t it?” He asked, drawing your attention away from the playground in the distance. You had come here with him and the rest of your friends before, you knew he lived close to it but you weren’t sure if he went here often. Granted, you also did a lot of work here. There weren’t too many wifi coffee shops in the area at the time, so you often just volunteered one of your hotspots and did your course work in the park. Things were typically moved inside once you got your hands on the van. 

“According to my calculations, yes.” 

“You excited to go back?” Javi did his best to keep his voice level, to not give you too much of an indication of how he was actually feeling about the idea of you going back without actually putting any pressure on you to answer in any particular way. Just because you were okay with spending time with him now didn’t mean you would stay just because of him. The thing was, if he asked you to, you would - you might not quite realize it without it happening, but you would.

“Not particularly excited, no.” You admitted, sitting down with him on a park bench. “It’s been nice not having to be on people’s television every morning.”

“Right, forgot you were doing that. What’s it like being a celebrity?”

“Wouldn’t say local access news makes me a celebrity.” You retorted, especially since you were only on for half of the week unless there was a big storm coming. Most of the time, you were in the office. “I think you’d be a good weatherboy, so long as you don’t get on camera with Cheeto dust on your face.”

“I’ve actually cut back on those!” 

“You know, there was a shocking lack of red powder on your blankets I must admit.” 

“I was never that gross, was I?”

“I guess not, when you remembered to shower.” 

To be clear, he never went a whole week without showering, but three days - four days? He typically just forgot because he was too invested in what he was working on, so you took it upon yourself to remind him that he needed a work-life balance. The mere fact that he had even come out here with you, done things with you today, when he could have been working said a lot about his willingness to actually start having a work-life balance. But, Javi had changed a lot in general. His hair was shorter, he was more responsible, he had a lot more equipment, and he had seemed to be at some level of peace with what happened. Obviously, there’s no forgetting it or ever being the same, but he wasn’t depressed about it anymore. 

“So, um, you’re okay with me staying the full week right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well-”

“Just keep in mind that we can’t oversleep tomorrow.” 

“I think you’re the one who overslept.” You responded, but you did too. You slept until pretty close to eleven in the morning, that was a lot later than you typically had to get up for work. Being in his arms was calming, it was the best sleep you had gotten in a long time. But you weren’t sure how to admit that, or if you even should. “Javi, I- uh…” 

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

“What? No. I kinda… I don’t- maybe I want to stay a little longer.”

“Oh.” There was a twitch of a smile on his face, but he subdued it by clearing his throat. “You can stay as long as you want.”

“It won’t bother you? I don’t know how used to the one-person apartment life you’ve gotten.” 

“I promise, it won’t bother me.” 

You nodded, glancing down at your hands before taking a breath - why not air out more of your conscience? It seemed like as good a place as any to do so. 

“Last night, I was really scared about- just about what happened, I guess, since I wasn’t prepared.” You hardly ever talked to him about your trauma from the past, because you didn’t need to. You had no reason to explain it to him because he had it too, even though he had been a bit safer than you had been. “But I was worried I wouldn’t see you again, mainly. I don’t want to not see you again.” 

The feeling of a hand on your shoulder forced you to look up at him, your eyes locking on his. He always was so beautiful to you, but the caring look in his eyes really just made you want to look into them forever. 

“I can’t handle the idea of not having you in my life again.” His words made your breath hitch, your eyes not parting from his for a moment. You were both silent, unclear where to go from there. 

Ultimately, it was you who broke through the invisible fence that separated the two of you. You who gingerly placed your hand on his cheek and leaned in, but it was him who closed the deal with a sense of relief and urgency that knocked the air out of your lungs. 

Javi’s hand found the back of your neck, his other hand resting on your hip to urge you closer so the kiss was more comfortable. You kept your hand on his cheek, your thumb moving over those freckles of his that you had missed touching and seeing more than anything. Your other hand rested on his forearm, holding him as closely as possible. 

It wasn’t until he deepened the kiss that you pulled back enough to speak, enough to take a breath. Your forehead rested against his, even though you were suddenly aware of your public surroundings. 

“You should take me home.”

“I should take you home.” 

The ride back to his place was an absolute nightmare. Whether it be your distress from the feeling of his hand against your thigh, or his distress from the way that you wouldn’t stop staring at him and playing with his fingers every time he touched you. At some point, he tried to ban you from looking at his arms because it was ‘stressing him the fuck out’, but you eventually made it in the door. 

It’s important to note that you only made it in the door, because you didn’t make it much further before he pushed you against the wall.

Javi had his lips against your neck fairly quickly, his hand sneaking down your body at a tortuous pace. You kept a hand tangled in his hair, your eyes never leaving him. 

“Did I tell you that I like your haircut?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, I really like your haircut.”

“I like yours too, but I like everything about you.” 

Grabbing his face, you rested your hands on his cheeks, his movements stilling as your thumbs brushed against his soft skin.

“I want the first time we do this again to be in your bed.” 

Javi’s eyes softened before he leaned in to press a chate kiss against your mouth before taking your hand to lead you into the bedroom. 

He took his time removing the clothing from your body, which was a lot more than you could say for yourself as you frantically tore item after item off of him before both of you were finally left in your underwear. He seemed amused as he kicked off the pants he was wearing, amused at the way you eyed him, at how eagerly your hands ran across his body. 

“You really missed me, huh?”

“I should hope you really missed me too.” 

“I did, more than you know. 

You let Javi push you back against the bed, your eyes locked on his as a slight smile covered your lips.

“Are you gonna show me?”

“Trust me, I’m gonna show you.” He motioned you to the top of the bed, following you and caging you in beneath him. “Sure you’re ready?”

“Don’t get cocky.” You replied, but you couldn’t help the wide smile that covered your face when you saw him smiling for just a moment. His smile had always been infectious to you, it was the thing that gave away to Kate that you were in love with him to begin with considering how you looked at him whenever he smiled. But that smile also always distracted you, which was how you just didn’t notice the feeling of his hand trailing down your body until he had a finger beneath the fabric of your panties, swirling around your seemingly already wet clit. “Fuck-”

“Just making sure you’re ready.”

Javi was always generous in bed, the only times he wasn’t was when you were both pressed for time but in desperate need of being together so you didn’t spend an entire day hot and bothered for no good reason. You had merely forgotten just how eager he was to please, though, he was often eager to be pleased as well which you were grateful for since you absolutely loved to hear him let loose. 

As much as you wanted to kiss him, it was a bit too intimate for a brief moment as his fingers dripped inside of you, the heel of his hand brushing up against your clit with each movement. To lock eyes with him, to be this vulnerable in front of him for the first time in five years, was a lot. It was overwhelming, but the intimacy was needed. You were certain that you could see the pent up emotions, the love, behind his eyes - and he was certain that he could see it behind yours, too. 

After a moment, you stopped staring at him so you could feel his mouth against yours. While He enjoyed the sounds coming from your mouth, he enjoyed feeling them against his lips even more. Everything felt both new and familiar, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you never wanted to be apart from him again. 

Maybe it was just because you were so pent up, or maybe it was because he had put his best effort into the way in which his fingers moved inside of you, but you could feel yourself getting lost in the feeling a bit too much. When your kisses became weaker, Javi’s lips trailed down your jaw, settling on your upper neck where his teeth lightly grazed your skin. 

His fingers curled inside of you, your hips arching off of the bed for a moment before he used his free hand to keep you from gyrating too much. You tried to keep your eyes locked on him. On his face, his hair, everything about him. But it was just too overwhelming. 

The smell of him surrounding you, the feeling of his mouth against you, of his fingers inside of you - it was all so much at once, and if it weren’t Javi, you would have been embarrassed about how quickly you came on his fingers. 

Javi gave you a moment to calm down before bringing his face to be level with yours again, his hand slowly pulling out from your panties before playing with the hem of the fabric. 

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything.” 

With that confirmation, Javi quickly pulled the last remaining article of clothing from your body while you removed the boxers that separated you from him. there was a feeling of relief, of familiarity, that came along with being able to be this close to Javi again. You missed him more than anything when you were apart from him, so feeling him push inside of you once again made you question if you were even okay with being apart from him when you both needed to do something as simple as work. 

Once he had pushed all the way inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust. Bringing a hand to grab onto his hand, he turned it so you could intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Before we do this, I need to tell you that I love you.”

His breath hitched for a moment, his eyes widening before a smile covered his lips. “I love you too, so, so much.”

You were almost taken aback by how swiftly he leaned down to kiss you, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back. It was incredibly eager, but it made you laugh, too. You felt like whatever part of you that had been feeling incomplete was complete again, complete because you were with Javi again, because he had made an effort to make things better, and because after all that time apart you were still just as in love with each other as you had been before anything had ever gone wrong. 

Once he started moving inside of you, you knew that you were a goner. Your fingers squeezed his hand, your leg wrapping around his hips to pull him closer. The sounds inside of the room were obscene, the mumbled words of affection and the moans coming tumbling against each other’s lips - you were just glad that he didn’t have roommates. 

Javi didn’t really hold back, but you didn’t expect him to. You had both been apart, you needed this just as much as he did. You needed to feel his hips grinding against yours, to feel him moving in and out of you in a pace that was both needy and caring. No matter what, it was always clear to you how much he cared about making you feel good. Never did he do anything too rough, and if he got a little rough he would always catch himself and make sure that you were okay. But this was something wholly different, because it was almost like it was muscle memory for him, like he knew exactly what to do to make sure that you both felt as good as possible. 

Your body arched into his naturally, and Javi seemed to get the memo that you simply wanted him as close as possible as he let his hips push you down a bit. The feeling of his warm skin against yours had your fingers tightening around his hand, you weren’t sure how you could get any closer than this but you were sure that you would do it if there was something more that you could do. 

Bringing a hand down your body, you felt Javi press his fingers against your clit. You could feel his smile as you accidentally bit down on his lip, a moan leaving his mouth as he felt you soothing the bite with your tongue. 

His hips became more erratic, your moans melding together against each others lips as you became too distracted to be wholly invested in a kiss. It was incredibly intimate having him this close again, knowing that he wants to be this close to you after everything that has happened between the two of you. 

As you squeeze him throughout your own orgasm, it takes everything for him to not finish right then and there. But he holds off until you’ve ridden out your orgasm, pulling out to finish on your inner thigh 

It takes a few moments of sloppy kisses before you both get up, taking a shower together before ultimately crawling into bed. You’re surrounded as him as you do. By his smell, by his skin as he holds you tightly against his body, by the feeling of his clothing being on your body as you cuddle into him in the bed.

“I want you to stay, I don’t ever want you to go back to Manhattan.”

Glancing at him, your head lifting from his chest, you see the nervous expression on his lips upon confessing that to you and merely smile reassuringly. “I want to stay, Javi. I never want to leave you again.”

He lets out a breath, leaning in for a soft kiss. Your fingers brush through his wet hair, before resting on his cheek. Pulling away, you can’t help the giddy smile that covers your lips as you look at him. You may have gone through a lot of issues together, and apart, but it was clear that you both understood that you were better together.

Some part of you was always sure that he was going to end up in front of you again, that your life was never meant to be one without Javi, and you just couldn’t help but be beyond happy and relieved to know that part of you was right. Javi, you were sure, was always meant to come back to you - and you were always meant to be with him. Now all you really needed to worry about was making up for lost time and settling into your new (or… old… familiar) way of life.

[justwinginglife]

Operation Rescue Hoshina aka The Runaway Boyfriend

Inspired by ideas from @adaizel based off of a fic that I wrote where Hoshina tries to avoid reader by running off doing other missions with other divisions and the reader says she'll drag his ass back if she finds him doing it again. Thanks again for the ideas and the enthusiasm. Also this will be NSFW as fuck and this will be longer than my usual fics so buckle up!

When you find the office of the Vice Captain is empty yet again, his stupid chair swiveling like he just had the idea to up and run, you groan. Hoshina loved doing this to you. He loved picking a Division, any division at all, and running away to them under the guise of helping with their missions. He loved to see how long it would take you to find him and come running, yelling profanities at him. He thought it was sexy. And he loved to see just how far he could push you.

It was a little game the two of you would play, and sometimes you were amused and sometimes you weren't.

Today you weren't. You were supposed to be having a meeting with him to talk about new training protocols for the Third Division and here he was fucking around god knows where on a random ass Tuesday, knowing damn well he has loads of paperwork to do. You knew you should have told him Captain Ashiro would be at the meeting too, he'd never mess around if it was the Captain. You were his sole target for teasing.

"Which fucking division are you in now Soshiro??" You grumble to yourself, flipping through papers on his desk, and opening drawers trying to see if he left you some sort of clue. You found nothing and you thought you might have to journey all over Japan to find him, when you got a text on your phone.

Come pick up my idiot brother, please. He's driving me crazy.

You scoff at your phone. Well this was a new one. Looks like he was in the Sixth Division today.

When I get there, I'm going to kick his ass so hard he lands in America.

You suit up and take your motorcycle. He hates when you make him ride on the back of your bike (he claims you drive like a crazy person and his sensitive stomach can't take it) but you don't give a shit right now. You just want the fastest way to get to him, and with this mode of transport you can duck and weave in between cars.

You arrive at the scene of Hoshina's soon to be murder, revving your engine as you spin in circles making donuts on the pavement and sputtering smoke into the air.

You pull out your megaphone from your bag. You had to buy a megaphone at this point.

"SOSHIRO FUCKING HOSHINA! IF YOU DON'T SHOW YOURSELF IN TWO SECONDS I WILL SNAP YOUR SWORDS IN HALF AND SHOVE THEM WHERE THE SUN DON'T SHINE!" You bellow loudly through the speaker.

The onlooking officers wince and move aside, making way for a very embarrassed Soshiro to step through.

"Hi baby." He says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as he slowly walks towards you.

"PICK UP THE PACE SOLDIER!" You yell as though he doesn't outrank you.

He sighs and starts jogging to you.

"Little much today, don't you think, love?" He asks as he approaches you.

You raise an eyebrow, daring him to challenge you, and he holds both his hands up in surrender.

He grins. "I mean, it was sexy and all." Then he cocks his head at your ride. "But did you have to bring the damn bike?"

You smirk at that. "If you didn't want to ride on my bike you shouldn't have run away, dumbass."

He groans, already clutching at his stomach. "Please don't drive crazy."

You wink at him. "Shall we do some off-roading? Just for you baby?"

He rolls his eyes and hops on the back of the bike, wrapping his arms around your waist. Then he leans in closer and presses a kiss to your neck. "Hey. We haven't had a date this week yet, and I saw this cute lil diner on the way in. Dinner on me, baby?"

You bite your lip to keep from smiling. This was the one thing you liked about his stupid, wild antics. He'd treat you to anything in whatever city you found yourselves in. "Dinner... and I saw a shopping mall on the way over. Buy me something nice."

He chuckles and snuggles up against you. "Deal baby."

And that was Tuesday. But then came Saturday and Saturday was a whole different beast. It was you and Hoshina's day off and you had been snuggled up in bed with him when he said he wanted to go for a walk, you were still sleepy so you waved him off and he said he'd be back soon. That was three hours ago.

Ughhhh, why's he doing this to me on a Saturday? You groan and throw on your combat suit. You've got your knives tucked in place all over your suit and guns prepared when you hear a knock at the door. That better be him, you think to yourself.

You open the door and it's a woman. You blink. She blinks.

"I'm looking for Soshiro?" She asks.

Your eyes narrow. "Who wants to know?" And who the fuck is using his first name so comfortably.

"I'm his girlfriend." She says snootily.

You throw your head back and laugh once, then you stand up straight, cracking your shoulders and your knuckles. You glare down at her. "That's funny. Because I'm his girlfriend."

She clears her throat. "Well I'm his ex-girlfriend," She corrects herself like it's a simple mistake.

Bitch. You didn't just misspeak, you were trying to have something over me, you think to yourself. "And what the fuck are you doing visiting his place, ex-girlfriend?" You emphasize ex as you step closer to her, towering over her and causing her to back up one step. But she holds her ground and refuses to back up any further.

"Just wanted to see if he missed me, that's all." She says simply and you're pissed off by her honesty. Like she's not threatened by you.

"Be a good girl and tell him I said hi, yeah?" She smirks.

Your fists clench. "Darling, I don't know if you know this, but these apartments are owned by the Defense Force and I'm the Third Division's Platoon Leader so I say you're trespassing. If I see you around here one more time, if you even breathe anywhere near my boyfriend, I will personally grab you by your shitty extensions and drag you off the grounds myself. Is that crystal fucking clear?" You make a point of pulling your gun out, though you know it's an immature move.

She raises an eyebrow but then rolls her eyes and backs off. "I see Soshiro still likes them crazy." Then she walks off and leaves you alone with your thoughts. You watch as her figure recedes, biting into your lip until it bleeds.

What a fucking awful way to spend your Saturday.

You need to shoot something. You open your phone to find the tracking app (you'd finally decided you needed to install some way to trace Soshiro easier), and find he's in the First Division today.

"Sorry Narumi, I'm about to break your fucking door down." You snatch your keys (honestly- you almost rip the whole ass hook off the wall trying to grab them) and get in your car (you think it might be too dangerous to be driving pissed off on a motorcycle). You slam on the gas, the smell of burning rubber filling the air, and you speed off.

When you arrive, you thank god there's an actual kaiju attack. If you didn't have something to kill, you might've strangled Soshiro himself. In fact, you might kill the kaiju and strangle him anyway.

Now the First Division officers see you pull up and they start to groan, looking around at each other nervously. Soshiro runs away to the First Division more than any other division because he knows it'll annoy the shit out of Narumi to have the two of you causing chaos in his city (kill two birds with one stone right?), so these officers know you almost as well as the Third Division at this point. Or at least they thought they did, but today you were a whole different level of frenzied and furious and they were not immune to the fear that followed.

You don't even look at them, and they start to breathe again, thinking they're safe. Then you jump on the head of the nearest kaiju and start pummeling it with your fists until it's pulp. The officers gulp. You usually use your gun and give the kaiju's a quick death- less chance of them hurting anyone else if they die quicker, you'd say. But apparently today you weren't thinking about mercy or efficiency.

When your fists finally start to get tired, you pull out your gun and start rapidly blasting any beast that dares come near you. Then, once you've cleared out most of the kaiju, you start to go for the big one. That's where Narumi and Soshiro are currently held up. Narumi rolls his eyes as you jog up to them and Soshiro grins.

"Hey baby!" He calls to you.

"A fucking walk? Huh, Soshiro? A walk?" You spit out.

He shrugs, still grinning from ear to ear. "It was a long walk, what can I say?"

"You went for a walk in your goddamn combat suit? To the First Fucking Division??" You demand, punching him in the arm.

He senses you're a different kind of mad today but he can't quite figure out why. He watches you intently, trying to piece it together.

You know he's trying to figure you out so you make it easy for him. "Met your bitch ass ex girlfriend today. You know, the one you failed to mention you had."

He coughs. "You met Tsumi?"

Hearing her name, knowing that he knows who you're talking about, pisses you off even more. You punch his other arm and he winces.

"You ladies wanna take this conversation elsewhere? I'm kinda busy here." Narumi says, still shooting at the Honju.

"Actually, I think I'm good right where I'm at." You charge headfirst towards the Honju, while Narumi and Soshiro gape at you. You run at it, shooting anywhere that looks like a soft spot but to no avail. You're glad the Honju isn't easy to kill though- you don't want it to be.

"Guess I'll have to use these." You pull out Soshiro's swords and he spins around wondering when you took them from him. You slash at the beasts legs, arms, chest, neck. You just want to slash at something, anything at this point.

Be a good girl and tell him I said hi, yeah?

You hear her stupid fucking voice in your head and you keep slashing and slashing until you you realize the Honju has been long dead and the officers of the First Division are gathered around you, staring.

You wipe the blood from your face. "Soshiro. We're going home. NOW." You drop his swords to the floor with a clang and he winces at the sound. He collects them quickly and follows you to the car, waving bye to the other officers before he gets in.

You drive home, intending to spend the time in silence but Soshiro has other ideas.

"Does it help if I say you were really sexy back there?"

You're silent.

"Hey, I saw this really cool movie theater we could try. It's got luxury seats and a full bar."

Still silent.

"Baby. Come on. Are you really mad at me? For real? I don't even get a date?"

You glare at him and then turn back to face the road. "Why don't you take Tsumi on a date?"

You can almost hear his stupid cheeky grin. "Ahhh. I see. Someone's jealous. So sexy."

You punch his arm again in the same spot you'd hit earlier. "Hey! You're gonna bruise my beautiful arms, ya know!"

"I'm aiming to."

He scoffs. He's quiet for a moment. Then he daringly says, "I bet Tsumi wouldn't do this to me."

You slam on the brakes.

You peer out the window and it looks like you're near a motel. You drag his ass out of the car and book the two of you a room at the front desk before dragging him to said room.

He smirks. "Little mini vacation? Is that what's going on right now?"

"Get undressed." You demand.

He licks his lips at the sudden order. Though caught off guard by this random excursion of yours, he goes along with it. "Yes ma'am." He starts to strip and for a moment, you get distracted by the ripple of his muscles tight against his body. Then when he's fully naked in front of you, you back him towards the bed. He allows you to, thinking you're here to reward his bad behavior. You're not.

You pull out some handcuffs and shackle him to the bed frame, to his surprise. You start to walk away and the smirk drops from his face as he starts to think that maybe you're going to leave him here in some random motel on the side of the road.

"Hey! Hey wait! Baby, where are you going? Baby, talk to me! You can't leave me here!"

You tsk at him, waving a finger in front of his face. "Be a good boy and sit still, I'll be right back." You tighten his cuffs, sending a slight jolt of pain into his wrists. He gulps.

You leave the room and go grab some things from the car.

When you come back you wrap a blindfold around him and he flinches.

"Wh-what's going on? Baby?" He asks, uncertain for the first time all day.

You nuzzle against his ear and bite the lobe, pulling slightly. He inhales sharply. "I'm going to teach you to behave yourself." You say in a low growl. He shivers.

You pull your whip out and start running it up one of his calves. His breath hitches in his throat. You wrap a hand around his throat, applying slight pressure around it. Before he can get used to the sensation, you drag the whip up and slap it down on his thigh. He gasps at the little taste of pain that's searing his leg, but you know he loves it.

"Tell me... does Tsumi make you feel like this?" You whisper in his ear, this time licking up the curve of it.

He swallows. "N-no baby... only you do." His words are meek and they sound so delicious to you.

"That's a good boy." You whip his other thigh and he groans this time, his cock engorging at the feeling. You lightly drag the whip across his dick, causing it to twitch. He lifts his hips and arches into it, wanting more.

"You want this baby?" You start to drag the whip up his defined abdomen and across his chest. He nods quickly. You smirk at his eagerness. You run the whip down the length of his arm and flick it hard against his forearm.

He groans and bites his lip.

You pull on his bottom lip, and his teeth release it. "No biting, love. That's just for me." You lean forward and bite his lower lip, tugging on it gently before releasing.

"Fuck." He whispers.

"Watch your language baby. I might just have to punish you for that."

"So punish me," He says, breathless.

You lick your lips at his pleading. The sight of him laid bare for you, desperate for your attention, was such a pretty picture. The Vice Captain of the Third Division, all flushed and panting, precum seeping from his throbbing cock. All because you touched him a little.

You thought you'd reward him a little. You trace your tongue up his thigh, lapping at the red welt on his skin. He throws his head back against the bedframe, soaking in the feeling of your wetness on his skin. You grab his balls in one hand and squeeze as you drag your tongue up the length of his bulging erection. You nip at his tip a little and then, before he can react, you deep throat him.

He hits the back of your throat and he inhales sharply. Your mouth tightens around him, coating him thoroughly in your saliva as you suck harder. Then, right as he thinks he might cum, you pull back. He swears and you almost laugh. His legs are shaking now and he bucks at the air, trying to get some relief. You press two hands down tightly on his thighs, shoving him back into the mattress.

"Not yet. You cum when I say you can. Got that?"

He whimpers as more precum trickles out of him.

You place a cock ring at his base and he groans. "You're going to tease the shit out of me until I'm begging for it, huh?"

"You got that right baby."

You click a leash around his neck and uncuff him from the bed. You tug on the leash, pulling him towards you and meeting his lips for a sloppy kiss. Then you withdraw from him, leaving him hungry for more, and you push him down flat against the bedsheets.

He tries to get up, reaching for your face to snag another kiss, but you shove him back down. "Such a bad boy. You only do what I tell you to, got that?" You flick the whip at his thigh again.

He shudders. "Yes baby. Anything you say baby."

Then you pull out your prostate massager and, after lubing it up thoroughly, you slowly side it inside him causing him to gasp. Then you turn it on to a low setting and watch as he twitches, moans escaping his beautiful lips.

"I'm not done with you yet love." While that's running, you grab a vibrating wand and turn it on. It rumbles against the base of his cock, causing him to tremble.

"Fuck." He whimpers.

"What did I say about your language baby? Seems someone hasn't learned their lesson." You turn the settings up on the wand and trace it up his length, earning another groan from him. His precum starts to pump ferociously as the wand reaches his tip. He's starting to overload, unable to keep up with the vibrations coming from both ends of him. He can't tell if he should focus more on the delicious pressure up against his prostate or the rumbling across his dripping tip.

"Now, tell me again. What is Tsumi to you?"

"Nothing. She's nothing." He gasps out.

"And what am I?"

"Everything. You're everything baby." His moans come out low and guttural.

"Good boy. Now tell me, are you going to run away from me again? You know we've got important work to be doing at the Third Division."

He bites his lip.

You sigh. "I see. Still haven't learned your lesson then. Alright, I can go at this all night, let's see how much you can take."

You turn the settings up to max on both devices.

He jolts so quickly he chokes on his spit, the saliva drizzling down his chin, as he clenches the sheets hard. "B-baby! B-baby, p-please!" His words are frantic as they stumble out of his mouth. He chokes back a sob as you press the wand harder against him.

"Th-that's t-too m-much... ah fuck!"

He ejaculates wildly, his hips bucking from the sheer force of it, as hot milky cum spurts out of him in erratic bursts, dousing you. He's still shuddering from his violent orgasm when you've finally turned off the toys and pulled them away from him.

His breathing is ragged and shaky, and sweat from his forehead starts to trickle down and cloud his view.

"S-so we're all good now, r-right?" He asks weakly.

You smirk at him, feeling smug.

"For now."

[potteraep]

Hey 👋 how are you. I have a question: Do you take requests??

If yes:

Can you do a fic with Soft! Golden retriever Slytherin! Reader x an Overprotective! Black cat! Regulus. Where he probably thinks, where did they come from ?? (im a girl but i want other people with different genders to read this) and reader is like" if you don't accept my friendship bracelet, I'm gonna curse your family for seven generations." kinda person. And Regulus is like oh they feisty, i like that. And that's.. the idea.

If not: have a great day 😁😊

REDAMENCY ౨ৎ R.B

౨ৎ: regulus black x slytherian gn!reader

౨ৎ: hi! Sorry this took like a while.. to be released but I hope you enjoy it

౨ৎ: @reggieswriter I thought I’d tag you because you also requested something similar! I hope you like it :)

౨ৎ- regulus black found himself immersed by you, perhaps for some reasons even he didn’t have the heart to answer tho to say you weren’t in his head would be a stupid lie.

he wouldn’t say it was a crush, god no or atleast he wouldn’t admit it. His excuse was that you being a slytherian, he didn’t understand your attentive and caring attitude for those around you

in his defense his experience with his other house mates was that it was better to ignore them even if they were infact similar in many manners.

to say you shocked him was a slight understatement, well it didn’t exactly blow his mind but his gaze lingered for few longer seconds then he would for Anyone else

his eyes looking around as other slytherains rolled there eyes at you, and hufflepuffs wondered why you weren’t sorted with them

everytime you talked to him he was kind but quite not sure of how open to be but he made a note to try and be open as well when you asked how he was and ran off to go talk to anyone else about it

The “ friendship” obviously didn’t start like this tho at first you tried speaking to him as he looked at you and back at his work before you huffed and walked off

the next day he was a bit shocked and annoyed to see you keep trying to talk to him as he ignored you again

tho he was a bit interested and found your personality.. attractive?

this went on for a week.

Until he finally decided that he’d speak back to you when you tried, of course you spoke to him again but you were the shocked one when he replied with a full sentence

he found himself a bit happy seeing you so excited over a reply but brushed it off and continued his work as you waved walking away to your seat

After a week or so you became “friends” waving at each other in the halls, tho his wave was a lazy excuse of one but still a welcoming one.

he would walk into class and smile softly at you and every time you stopped him in the hall to talk your opposite demeanor seemed to bounce off each other, his blank but attentive gaze colliding with your excited attitude

as the months went on you grew closer your short hellos going to full fledged conversation and he felt a little thankful to know you, as in his words you were a breathe of fresh air

His friends often teased him a bit at the fact he’d roll his eyes and make a snarky remark when his house mates talked bad of you telling them they were stupid and couldn’t hope in a million years there brains could function enough to understand your honorable personality

he denied all the fingers his friends pointed at him saying it was only because you were very nice and a good person and it’s quite insensitive to take your kindness for weakness and that was it.

tho he of course wouldn’t admit to his friends or even himself that his heart skipped seeing you in the halls or when your hand would rest on his shoulder when you pasted him at his desk.

tho maybe soon his feelings could be put out, or at least deep down he hoped he wouldn’t have to feel such a feelings in the pit of his stomach in secret much longer.

@- likes and reblogs appreciated! As well as any other feedback :>

[hughiecampbelle]

Cornered (Homelander Oneshot)

Character/s: Homelander

Word Count: 1,645

Requested: Hi! Can I request Homelander x reader with the prompts “Engagement” and “I missed you”? I haven’t requested anything from anyone in awhile so I hope I’m doing this right 😆 - anon

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long my love! Writing fics has been especially hard lately. I have so many great requests, so many good ideas, but I hate everything I write and I just don't want to post something I'm unhappy with. I'm still not 100% over this, but rewriting it over and over just ends up making it worse unfortunately 😅 Writers block is so frustrating and makes me feel awful. Thank you for being so patient and I really hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

I missed you. His room is completely destroyed. Mirrors shattered, statues broken, furniture in flames. And he stands in the middle, perfectly untouched, unphased, arms stretched outward. He expects a hug. He expects a lot of things. You step over the debris, inhaling the scent of smoke, of burning, mazing through the mess towards him. It’s too quiet. Aside from the crackling of the fire, it eats through the fabric, the stuffing of the couch, you could hear a pin drop. This place had always been eerie, but it was downright frightening. His smile is wide, unfaltering. He wraps himself around you, his hand raising to cradle the back of your head, pressing you into him. He never learned to be gentle. He never learned to hug someone like he likes them. He does it out of ownership, control. He does it so that you cannot fight back. You squeeze your eyes shut, imagining a different life, a different love, anything but this. Your arms stay still at your side. I missed you so much, he says again as a sign in relief. He doesn’t wait for you to respond. He’s learned, over the years, that conversations like this lack a back and forth. They are one sided. He talks to himself. Sometimes he’s okay with it. Sometimes he’s not. At this moment, he is the latter. I missed you so much. Is he talking to himself? Responding to himself? Is he trying to comfort himself? Did you miss me? This is a test. Unable to speak, to find your voice, you nod. You make sure he can feel you do this. Good, he smiles, that's good. You did good. You passed. This time. 

It’s hard to remember a time before this. There was a childhood. An adolescence. Young adulthood. There had to be. People didn’t just wake up one day, existing instantaneously. You had to have had a family, friends, some sort of education. There are glimpses of that, of a person who lived, who looked like you, who is long gone. A best friend you shared crayons with. Maybe they were colored pencils. All you see is the colors, the dimpled hands of small children grabbing greedily at the cyan blue or cherry red. You don’t know what you were drawing, or who this other person was, only that, for a few seconds at least, you had a friend. Someone who cared about you, perhaps even loved you. There is a car ride. You’re big enough to sit in the passenger seat. It’s bright outside, green, probably Spring. The window is cracked open, the breeze kissing your face, the sunlight beaming down through the branches of the tree lined street. A feminine voice is talking to you. Her words are muffled, her tone malleable. Sometimes she sounds happy, on the verge of laughter. Other times she’s annoyed, frustrated. The scenery never changes. It is always nice out. It was always warm. You like to think of her as your mother. A maternal figure concerned for your safety, pleasantly surprised about a good grade, tired of your attitude. You’d take it all, needy for validation. A father, you’re sure, slamming a door. There’s a suitcase on the floor, between you. You’re not sure who takes ownership over it. There is yelling, a language you don’t recognize. He vibrates, his anger cartoonish. What did you do to deserve this? Are you leaving or is he? You’re older than you were in the car ride. You’re not sure how you know, only that you do. There is no beginning or end, just snippets of the middle. How does this play out, you wonder. You could come up with a story. He’s leaving and you’re trying to stop him. You’re leaving and he’s trying to stop you. You’re not sure which is better. 

There are glimpses of the past. Yours, you assume, though the line between reality and fantasy has long been gone, worn away with time and desperation. A taste of normalcy. You imagine you lived in a small town in the middle of the country, somewhere bleak and boring, somewhere you could have been extraordinary. You imagine a child version of yourself dreaming of this future down to the last detail. You wake up each morning in his bed, in his place, at the top of the tower. For a few cloudy seconds you view this world from the perspective of a stranger: there is an engagement ring on your finger, the space beside you in the bed is empty, the room you occupy is grand and expensive looking. The person who lives here, who found love, who has everything they could ever want, should be happy, right? And then, like a slap across the cheek, stinging, it hits you: you are that person. So why aren’t you happy? Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this what you asked for? Dreamed of? 

The haze ends your first weeks after joining The Seven. Reporters, cameras flashing, overwhelmed by voices and snapshots and microphones. You smile, doing your best to hear a question between the mumbling of the crowds. A hand pulls you through the chaos, leading you to salvation. Safely inside, he laughs, congratulating you. There’s a light in his eyes that is warm, safe. You can’t believe he’s giving you attention, let alone complimenting you. You thank him. He’s there again, behind you, a hand on your shoulder. It was reassuring at the time, a way to show solidarity between veteran and rookie heroes. Your voice shakes, fear and anxiety radiating through you. You’d never had your own press conference before. It was after a big save, though. Everyone stood back, letting you in the limelight. You debuted a new suit, a new identity, letting your name fade away. Even now it sounds alien to you. The person you were and the person you are are disconnected, isolated. It’s been years since you’ve heard someone say it. Hearing it in passing is no longer startling, it no longer grabs your attention. It’s lost all meaning. 

This was years ago. You were still fresh faced. His touch was new, exciting. His affections were innocent, friendly. This world was bright and shiny. It’s lost its excitement. It’s lost its appeal. The warmth in his eyes turned hot, burning, furious. The last time you fought they glowed red, a warning that he was not fucking around. How long ago was that? Weeks, maybe months. You’ve been good. You do as you’re told. You smile when you need to. You kiss him. You pose. You show off your ring. The story was breaking news, running through the cycle the past few days: Homelander popped the question and you said yes! You don’t recognize yourself in the interviews. You don’t recognize him either. You’re happy, laughing easily, talking about wedding plans. The interviewer, a woman with lipstick on her teeth, asks about the future. Oh, you say. The mask slips. You hadn’t thought about the future. Years now you spent getting through the moment, the minute. You didn’t have it in you to think ahead. You couldn’t. You knew what it looked like, what he’d want from you, what you’d have to give up. Not just a name or a past. That was easy. That’s what you thought you wanted. This was a lifetime. A lifetime of fear, threats, and silence. Oh, you say, and it all comes at once, the realizations wrapping their hands around your throat. He squeezes your hand, talking for the both of you, filling the silence like a pro. She turns her attention towards him, recovering quickly. No one even noticed.  It’s better today. You dress. You sit through meetings. You disappear into the background, watching everyone instead of being part of it. You don’t think too much. You’re not overwhelmed by the idea of raising his children, of spending your time secluded with him, in his shadow. You’re not disgusted by the ring on your finger or the way he kisses you. The bruises strategically placed where fabric covers do not ache as bad as they did yesterday. It’s better today. It’s manageable. Ashley goes over the next few weeks: wedding planning, florists, musicians, guests, wardrobe, cake tasting. There was so much, and yet so much was missing. A mother to cry. A father to walk you down the aisle. Friends. She wanted every part of this decision making televised. It would be the wedding of the century. She goes down the list and you only have it in you to nod. Where was Homelander? Why wasn’t he being bombarded by color palettes and types of icing and venues? It wasn’t really up to you, anyways. You could pretend. You could make decisions: a lighter palette by the ocean with raspberry cake and vanilla frosting. You could plan it all, but he would always have final say. She’s still talking, going on and on about how you’ll wear your hair and the amount of cameras, who is and isn’t allowed to drink, but you’re not really listening. You’re sinking back into the chair. You’re taking it one breath at a time. In, out. Maybe there was a before. Before him, before all this, but it’s long gone. From the moment he saw you he knew you would be his. You would do as you were told. You would follow orders. And in return, you would lose yourself. Yeah that sounds good, you say, though you’re not really listening. You’re far away from yourself, the room, the world. It was better today. The weight of what’s happened. The more she speaks, the greater the feeling becomes: dread blossoming in the middle of your chest. You were trapped. You could scream and cry all you wanted, this place was a cage and Homelander held the key. 

[doudouneverte]

Flustered swedish

a/n: just a little Idea on my mind...

Pairing: Stina Blackstenius x FRAWNT!reader; Arsenal WFC x reader.

Summary: Arsenal signed a new and mysterious player but it's seem that some of them already know her

Type: Fluffy as f-

Warning: me who give you a surprise fic but don't finish an other 😭

word count: 1746

-----

Everybody knew Stina was a rather private person, and everybody was okay with this. Things didn't change even when she was transferred to Arsenal.

After the World Cup, she was rather surprised to be welcomed with the news of a new transfer. With Amanda, who signed for the gunners just before the tournament, they were trying to guess which sort of player could be their new teammate.

While the girls were getting ready, they heard someone knock on the door, and all the girls looked at them. You were there with Jonas, waiting for him to introduce you to your new team.

"Girl, this is Y/n, our new recruit. I'll let her introduce herself and get ready for training." He announced to them. "And don't worry, they kind of looked scary, but they don't bite. Well, maybe Katie can." He said to you just too loud to be heard by the Irish girl who protested before he left the room.

When the door got closed, you had all eyes on you, and you guessed it was your time to start to speak.

"Hi, I'm Y/n Y/l/n; I'm a full back. I played for the PSG, and I play for the France national team." You said trying to not stutter and give a bad first impression. The girls didn't have time to say anything before Amanda came to hug you.

"I knew you would follow me. You can't get rid of me." She joked, making you chuckle lightly. After that, the rest of the room came to welcome you. Stina being the last one, everybody noticed your change when you shook the striker's hand.

"Well, isn't that Mrs. Blackstenius?" You asked loudly and the Swedish player rolled her eyes.

"Happy to see you too, Y/n." She replied sarcastically, which made Lina and Amanda laugh quietly.

"Do we have to worry that they will rip each other's heads apart?" Lia asked Lina.

"No, don't worry, they played together back in Montpelier." The second Swedish informed them.

During the training, everyone saw something; you were close to the Swedish players, but even more so with Stina. Sometimes girls could hear you make jokes, to which the striker would just roll her eyes before a smirk appeared on her face.

After training, it was time to go back home. "So can you tell us how you ended up here without us knowing anything?" Amanda asked when the only ones in the changing room were the three Swedish players and you.

"I asked Johanna to pick me up at the airport, and she also drove me here. Which means—" You looked at Stina and said, "We'll have to go to her home before we go to ours." 

The striker didn't complain and just grabbed her bag and your hand before leading you out of the room. You stayed there until you reached her car, and she had to let you sit on the passenger side.

"I hope you like your–" You didn't finish your sentence before her lips were glued against yours. She only broke it when oxygen became a necessity.

"I missed you. You don't know how much I'm happy that you finally joined me." She confessed.

"I'm sure you'll have all the time to show me this after we get my things from Jo." You said with a mischievous smile.

The next few days were strange for the Arsenal girls. It was not difficult to talk to you; you were rather open about everything. That helped them learn more about you and how you were so friendly with the Swedish players. But something was still on almost everyone's minds: you said that you had a wife, but some of them heard you shamelessly flirt with Stina.

"I don't think it's a good idea to let Y/n flirt like that with Stina." Steph proposed to some teammates while they saw you telling what seemed like a good joke, judging by your proud face and the laughing face of the Swedish woman.

"Maybe they're just good friends," Caitlin said.

"Friends don't look at each other like they did." Lia said, pointing out how much they saw you do the heart eyes to the blonde.

"You should see how Stina looked at her when we were training today." Viv said as she joined the group.

"See? Even Viv noticed it." Steph said to her national teammate, obviously not replying when the Dutch asked her what she meant.

The girls were about to say something when they saw you walking near them to join Kyra and Vicky, who called you for something.

"It's time." Steph said, and the group quickly stood up to have a little talk with their teammate.

Stina was doing some exercise and entertaining a little chat with her Swedish teammates, and Frida, who joined them just after you left, when she saw the girls stopping in front of her.

"Is everything okay?" She asked when she noticed the expressions of her teammates.

The girls exchanged glances to see who would talk first. When she felt that nobody would, Leah took things into her hands. "Stina, I—no, we think you need to stop what you and Y/n are doing." The captain said, earning a strange look from all the Scandi girls.

"What do you mea–" Amanda started, but she was cut when you came back from your little chat with the youngies.

"Hey Blackstenius, isn't it funny that I'm the French one but Eiffel for you?" You said with a comical wink, which made Lina and Amanda burst into laughter while the striker just blushed very hard. "Okay, now I have to go." You said this before leaving, leaving the girls completely speechless.

"What just happened?" Caitlin asked.

"I think we will need to have a talk with her too. She can't just do that." Steph said.

~~~

This evening, you were cooking when Stina suddenly came to you with an amusing look. You looked at her with a confused expression while she just laughed at something on her phone.

"Hey, what is it?" You asked a little jealous to not be in the confidence.

"The girls came to me today. They told me that you need to stop flirting with me like that. They find it very inappropriate because you have a wife, and it's very irrespective to her." 

"Well, too bad. I love to flirt with her in front of everyone, even if they don't know who she is." You replied. The blonde took your hands, wrapped them around her waist, and placed hers around your neck.

"I know you want to tell them, but you can't deny that it's funny to see them freak out." She pointed, making you chuckle.

"Okay, but we will have to tell them soon because I started to feel a little impressed with their bad looks." You said this before pressing a light kiss on her lips.

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, we will–" She was cut off by the doorbell, making her look at you a little confused. "You waited for someone?"

"I invited Jo, but she shouldn't have been here for at least thirty minutes, I think." You replied while you made your way to the front door.

"Maybe it's your wife." Stina joked.

"Oh, welcome, my lov–oh." In front of you were Steph, Caitlin, Lia, and Leah. "Well, good evening, I think." You said and let them enter, a little unsure of what was happening.

"Älskling (Darling), who is this?" Stina said coming out of the kitchen. "Oh. Well, good evening... I think." She said to the girls.

The girls looked at you, then at her, more confused than before.

"What's happening here? And what are you doing here?" Leah asked you.

"Well, I can ask you the same thing. We were expecting Jo and Zećira, but I think you're welcome too." You replied.

"Wait. Can we please restart it slowly? First, what is Y/n doing here, and second "Jo and Zećira"? Like Kaneryd and Mušović from Chelsea?" Caitlin asked.

"First, we live together; second, yeah; and to finish, what are you doing here?" Your wife was more confused than angry.

"Well, we want to see you, and—wait! Did you say that you live together?" Lia asked.

"Yeah, I mean, it's okay to live with my wife, until there is a law that I don't know yet that says the opposite." You replied with a little bit of sarcasm in your tone.

"Your wife?" They all asked at the same time.

"Surprise," Stina said, showing them her ring.

"Why is it the first time we see this?" Steph asked this time.

"She usually leaves it home when she has to train because she loses things easily." You replied, making your wife throw a pillow at you.

"Since when?" The Swiss woman asked visibly more calm than the others.

"Three years now, but I already told you that last week." You said.

"No, until a few seconds ago, we thought that you were married to some random woman, not one of our teammates." Leah said.

"Okay, it's not that I don't want to talk, but I need to finish cooking, so I let you with her." You said heading directly to your previous location.

From the kitchen, you could hear how the girls didn't stop asking all sorts of questions to the striker, and you were mentally laughing just by imagining the face she should make at this moment. Yes, you didn't really yell everywhere that you were engaged to the Swedish player, but it was never really taboo every time someone asked you what your relationship was with her.

The meal was just ready when you heard the front open and close a few seconds later and heard your wife's footsteps coming to where you were. Being taller than you, she wrapped her arms around your torso and rested her head on top of yours before taking a deep breath.

"Please don't let me reply to those questions alone next time, please." She said dramatically, making you laugh.

"I'm sorry, mon amour (my love), but you nailed it, like always." You replied and turned around to face her. She was about to kiss you, but you gently put your finger on top of her lips. "I think I heard someone ring outside." You said.

"What do you–" she couldn't say something before both heard the ring bell a second time. The blonde rolled her eyes but finally let your body.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 2: NCT bias wrecker - Jaehyun✨️

In the a.m.

AN: I was originally planning to post another fic today but, it got too frustrating so, I scrapped it for another day. Fortunately, my brain seems to have plenty of ideas when it comes to Jaehyun. Also, yay to the first NCT fic on the blog :D

Synopsis: Some harmless scrolling on Instagram takes a turn you could've never seen coming.

Heads up: Jeong Jaehyun x Fem! Reader, friends to lovers, Reader going through it because of her feelings for Jaehyun, Reader mentions wanting Jaehyun to choke her one time, Jaehyun being a little shit, mentions of facesitting, dirty talk, video call sex, guided masturbation of sorts (f. receiving), mutual masturbation, praise kink (f. receiving) and Jaehyun calls Reader pet names a lot throughout this.

Word count: 2989

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You don't expect much when you open Instagram.

It's been a relatively uneventful Tuesday night, all things considered. Your laptop sits on your desk, reminding you that you very much have work you should be attending to, but you try your best not to pay it any mind.

Your mindless scrolling comes to a halt when you notice a post from Jaehyun.

It's honestly embarrassing how much just seeing him affects you. Your heart stuttering in your chest as you take in his carefully dishevelled, dark hair and his handsome, almost apathetic expression. You're probably reading more into a singular picture than strictly necessary, but the way his face is angled makes it look like he's looking down at you, and that only causes you to spiral further. Insides squirming violently.

It definitely doesn't help that you wish his hand was around your throat inside of his phone, too.

You're honestly just speechless. You knew you were really looking for ways to procrastinate if you resorted to Instagram of all platforms but, it's a blessing in disguise since you were graced with this.

However, because you're an idiot and you weren't careful, you like the post without thinking. A post he made months ago.

Would it be too much to hope for the Earth to open up right now and swallow you whole?

Panic takes over then. Maybe you could just uninstall Instagram, and he wouldn't notice or get the notification. Maybe you could just unlike it really quickly and he'd never even know-

Luck is not on your side, however, because you notice a message from Jaehyun, and you've never wanted to cease to exist more than right now.

Maybe you could just pretend you magically passed out seconds after liking his post. That wouldn't seem too suspicious, would it?

However, because you're still an idiot and a curious one at that, you open his message.

Jae💕: See something you like?

The fucking nerve of this man. You resent the way your body betrays you. Your face heating up considerably as you just try to comprehend what the fuck is happening. Is he...flirting with you? It wouldn't be the first time. Jaehyun enjoys flustering you, and it works more often than you care to admit. However, flirting with you when you're pretty sure it's around 3 a.m. in Tokyo seems like a little much, even for him.

You: Shouldn't you be asleep? Isn't it like 3.am. there?

Jae💕: Couldn't sleep. Then I got the notification that you liked my post. Isn't it pretty late over there too?

You groan into your pillow. Jaehyun doesn't need to know about you lusting after him so late at night.

You: Yeah, I was doing some work but, I'm pretty much finished for the night.

Jae💕: And you were thinking about me after finishing your work? I'm flattered, baby

Jaehyun has called you baby before. It's nothing new. Honestly, the pet name would make you cringe if anyone else was saying it, but, as you're coming to discover, apparently anything and everything he says and does renders you a flustered mess.

You: No! I was just scrolling, and I accidentally liked it. Don't flatter yourself

Jae💕: Sounds like denial to me~

You: You're so annoying 🙄

What you don't anticipate, on this already fever dream of a night, is for your phone screen to light up with his name. You only hesitate for a few moments before answering.

"I'm annoying, huh? That hurts my feelings," he teases. You can hear the smile in his voice, and the mental image of his dimples hits you like a truck. Though he said he couldn't sleep, his voice sounds gravelly and, you feel yourself squirm instinctively.

"Something tells me your feelings aren't all that hurt," you retort, hoping against hope he doesn't notice the breathy edge to your voice. Talking to Jaehyun always left you feeling a little lightheaded.

"Now you're calling me a liar too? I was being serious earlier. I am extremely flattered that I was running through that pretty mind of yours,"

Yeah, you're definitely going to uninstall Instagram after tonight. You don't even want to begin to unpack him calling anything about you pretty.

With a heavy sigh, you respond, "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Nope," and he has the nerve to chuckle.

"You really are so annoying. You're lucky I like you and you're cute,"

You were wrong. Now, you've never wanted to cease to exist more. Why in the fuck would you ever say that? Especially tonight? Yeah, sure, some harmless flirting isn't out of the norm between the two of you, but tonight feels decidedly...different. You can't help but feel you're treading a very dangerous line here.

You're half-tempted to just hang up before he responds, "You like me and think I'm cute, huh? If you wanted to ask me out, you could've just said that."

"That's not- I wasn't trying to- I didn't mean to say that,"

"You don't have to get all shy, baby. If anything, the feelings are very much mutual,"

That stops all your higher order functions all together momentarily. What. Jaehyun likes you? Is this actually happening?

"W-what?" Your brain intelligible supplies.

"You really think I just call everyone baby and flirt with them. I'm a little surprised it took you so long to catch on,"

Now that you think about it, he has always treated you...differently compared to your other friends. Johnny and Mark had teased you about it from time to time, but you always thought they were just being little shits. Guess you should learn to take your friends' word more seriously moving forward.

"You could've just been direct with me,"

"Where's the fun in that?" He laughs, but his tone shifts to a more serious one, "I wasn't sure if you felt the same way. I know I joke, and I tease, but you-you mean a lot to me, and I didn't want to jeopardise the friendship we had. I was content to have you in any way you wanted me, even if it was just as your friend."

You were reeling. You couldn't respond to him even if you wanted to for a few seconds. Your brain trying to pull itself together enough to say something.

"You know, this isn't how I was expecting my Tuesday night to go,"

His laugh is warm and throaty and quiet, and all the months of pining finally boil over.

"In case it's unclear, I like you too. Like a lot. Um, yeah,"

"Well that's a relief. I was worried there for a sec," god, you wish you could see his face. You know he's probably grinning ear to ear. Well, you could...

"Jae?"

"Hmm?"

"Could we video call instead?"

"Sure but, do you mind me asking why?"

"I want to see your face,"

You're sure that'll inflate his ego for weeks to come, but you can't bring yourself to care.

You're already proven correct when you see him with the world's largest shit-eating grin and the butterflies in your stomach flutter more violently.

His hair is even more dishevelled than in the picture, and you can see his sleeping shirt cling to his shoulders in a way that heats the blood in your veins.

"Here I am, baby. It's nice to see you too, if I'm being honest," it only hits you when his usually mischievous eyes are heavy with something else entirely as he takes in the sight of you on his screen what you're wearing.

"You're such a perv. I was trying to be sweet,"

"I'm being sweet too! I just have eyes. Also, I saw that look in your eyes. Don't play coy with me,"

"I have no idea what you're talking about,"

"Really?" His grin takes on a more sinister edge, "because I definitely noticed you looking like you wanted to sit on my face as soon as I popped up on your screen."

You're sure you look stupid with how you're gapping at him. Too stunned to speak and your body, once again, betrays you when you feel yourself clench at his words.

He's not wrong but, he doesn't need to just say it like that.

"You can't just say stuff like that, Jaehyun," you whine, and you see his eyes flash so briefly you're wondering if you imagined it.

"Why not? We both know it's true. It's just unfortunate that I'm not there right now to give you what you so obviously want," he drawls, lidded eyes dropping to take in as much of your generous cleavage as he can.

The butterflies shift lower.

"You'd let me sit on your face?" Maybe you're finally learning to just embrace the unexpectedness of this night. You two like and obviously want each other. Fuck it.

He chuckles again, but his voice is already a few octaves deeper, and you feel yourself growing slick. Thighs rubbing together in a way you hope is some level of unnoticeable.

"Happily. I'd do a lot of things to you if you'd let me,"

You're finding it really hard to think straight right now.

"Really? Like what?" You're too far gone for him to even feel ashamed how delicate your voice already sounds.

"And you were calling me a perv earlier," You're not sure if you want to punch him for attractive that arrogant, dimpled smirk of his is or kiss him. God, you really wish he was here too.

He continues before you can butt in, "Well, I'd take my time with you." Your blood feels molten as his lidded gaze takes in every detail of your face, stopping briefly to stare at your lips, "I'd kiss you until your lips were bruised and all you could think about was me."

This time, Jaehyun notices you squirming, and he pounces.

"Aw, is my poor baby already getting all hot and bothered just from me talking about kissing you and letting you sit on my face?"

A desperate whine tumbles out of your mouth before you can help yourself. Between him calling you his fucking baby constantly, what he'd do to you and the gravelly quality of his voice, it's no wonder you can feel yourself begin to leak onto your panties.

"Jaehyun,"

"I asked you a question, baby," his tone is still mostly playful, but you can hear the command clear as day.

"Yes,"

"That's a good girl. Why don't you show me just how hot you are for me?"

Honestly, you should probably feel some semblance of hesitance, but the exhilaration that comes with his praise would likely make you do anything.

You angle your phone as best as you can, the low light of your bedside lamp illuminating the visible wet spot on your panties.

"Fuck, baby," he groans and your pride swells at seeing him just as affected by all of this as you are.

"Can you show me how you touch yourself?"

Your unoccupied hand flies to your panties without much thought, ready to slip a few fingers past the waistband-

"Wait, don't touch yourself directly yet. Touch yourself over your panties,"

"But Jaehyun," you whine, sounding a little pathetic to your own ears, "I'm so wet, and it aches."

He shuts his eyes for a few moments, jaw clenching as he tries to find his words.

"I can't wait to get my hands on you," he mutters, but you don't think he meant to verbalise that particular thought. Either way, the feeling is very much mutual.

"I know, baby, but if you're good for me, I'll reward you, okay?"

You nod almost frantically, and he tuts in response, "Words, baby. Don't make me remind you again."

"O-Okay,"

"Good. Now I want you to touch yourself how you usually would, but over your panties,"

You do as he says. Drawing slow circles against your clit. The brushes of the fabric of your panties and the pressure from your fingers making your eyes flutter. More and more of your wetness drips out of you, making your panties stick to you. Your hips jolt up into your touch sporadically, quiet moans falling from your lips.

"You look so pretty playing with your pussy for me, princess," Jaehyun breathes, his own hand slinking down his body.

You keen at the praise. Adding more pressure to your ministrations against your sensitive clit, "Jae-Jaehyun ah please. I'm so - it's so -" you whimper, your train of thought leaving you with each brush.

"I know, baby. I know. You're doing so well," groans, his heavy gaze intently focused on the mess you're making between your thighs. His cock throbbing in the confines of his boxers with every twitch of your hips and quiver of your thighs.

"Can I see you too?" You ask, clamping down hard around nothing when you notice his arm moving. Putting two and two together and coming to the realisation that he's palming himself.

"Well, since you've been doing so well. I suppose you deserve some kind of reward," he says after some faux deliberation. Angling his phone downwards. Your thighs squeeze your hand hard, never feeling excruciatingly empty as you take in the way his cock strains against his boxers.

Considering the menace he's been all night, you expect him to tease you. Touch himself over his boxers until you're begging to see him properly. However, Jaehyun loves to keep you on your toes.

The air is knocked out of your lungs when he haphazardly tugs his boxers down. His cock smacks against his toned abdomen, flushed and hard and looking good enough to make saliva pool in your mouth.

"Too bad you're not here to sit on it but, I guess we'll have to make do for now, princess,"

Jaehyun is trying to kill you. That's what this is. An elaborate plot to stop your heart right here and now.

"Jaehyun, please. Can I touch myself pr-properly please? I've been so good. Please," you whimper. Slick walls throbbing incessantly when you notice his cock twitch in his grasp.

"I don't know, baby. How badly do you want to?"

"So badly. Please, please, please, I'll do whatever you say. Whatever you want,"

His eyes glint at that, and nervousness and anticipation course through your veins. Maybe he was more calculating than you gave him credit for.

"Since you ask so nicely, go ahead. Take your panties off for me, and let me see you play with yourself properly,"

In a likely incredibly ungraceful display, you impatiently tug your panties off with one hand. Tossing them aside and shoving your hand back between your thighs. Your eyes shutting when your fingers finally come into contact with your poor clit. Whimpers and curses and moans of his name falling from your lips with every circle.

"Fuck, you look so fucking pretty, princess," he groans and, you open your eyes to look at your screen. Fresh wetness gushes out of you when you realise that he's stroking himself. His tip now broaching into an angry red territory, and he's slick with pre-cum.

"I wish you were here," you whine out, increasing the pace of your fingers in time with each stroke of Jaehyun's hand. The obscene sounds emanating from your phone's speaker going straight to clit.

His chuckle is even more gravelly than before, "Me too, princess. Watching you like this...fuck. You're driving me insane," he mutters, hips jolting up to fuck into his fist. You've never envied a hand more than in this moment.

"Th-the feeling is mutual. I'm so-so ah,"

"Are you close, baby?"

"Ye-yes," you whimper, your toes beginning to curl, and the knot that's settled in your core tightening more and more and more.

The moan that falls from his lips is low and drawn out. His hand picking up its pace considerably as he watches you begin to fall apart on your hand.

"You're going to be a good girl and cum for me, right?" Oh god. The whine that's ripped from your throat is desperate and pitchy, your wetness drips down your thighs and begins to pool onto your sheets.

All your brain can manage is a jumbled mess of what you think is his name and 'please' and choked noises of pleasure. You're so close you can practically taste it.

You're distracted from your encroaching release when you hear Jaehyun's own sounds of pleasure. It takes a considerable amount of effort to open your eyes and, you're glad you do.

You open your eyes just in time to watch Jaehyun cum. His cum spurting onto his toned abdomen, parts of his thighs and all over his pretty hand. Strained, breathy gasps flooding your ears and the soft blush on his face, all combining to send you over the edge.

You try your best to muffle your cries as your hips twitch away from your hand. Insides spasming sporadically and even more wetness gushing out of you. Smearing your thighs and adding to the mess on your sheets.

It takes you both very long moments to regain your higher order functions. The stickiness underneath you and between your thighs quickly becoming uncomfortable but, you can't bring yourself to care right now.

"This is probably the most unconventional way anyone's ever confessed to me and asked me out,"

The laugh he gives you makes the butterflies roar once more. Considering you just watched each other cum, you suppose you have no real reason to be shy anymore.

"It's definitely the most unconventional way I've asked someone out. Luckily, the Japanese leg of our tour ends in about a week, so I can take you out properly then,"

"A whole week huh," you pout.

"Unfortunately, princess. Hey, I'm not opposed to more calls like this until we're able to meet in person," he responds with a wolfish grin.

You resent the way your still sensitive walls clench at the suggestion.

[wileys-russo]

Hello! I have an idea for a Mearps fic that's kiiiiinda like some of the ones you've already written but not exactly. Reader has a bad day at work coming home very stressed and not in the mood so Delilah and Mary team up to get/do everything they can to cheer R up. Just fluff fluff fluff but I know you'd make a beautiful story out of it!!

part of the a date to remember universe series a no good horrible very bad day II m.earps

from the very moment you'd opened your eyes this morning, nothing had gone your way.

first there was a blackout overnight causing your alarm clock to short circuit. now normally you'd wake up to your phone alarm as a back up but delilah had snuck in and grabbed it to play games on, and with your wife leaving early for a gym session it left you none the wiser.

so you'd woken up late for your first class of the day, and raced around like a half dressed headless chicken trying to find your phone not even thinking to check in your daughters room.

which is how mary found you when she came home, having expected to be seeing you off for the day as usual with a kiss before fixing some breakfast for delilah. not for you to be running around with bed hair still in your pajamas clearly frazzled, and your daughter nowhere to be seen.

"hey hey hey, whats happened love?" the joke mary intended to make at your appearance died on her tongue as she noticed the genuine panic on your face, dropping her bag by the door and quickly moving to your side.

"my alarm didn't go off because the fucking clocks broken and my backup alarm didn't wake me because i can't find my phone. i don't know what time it is, i don't know if i'm early or late, i can't find a matching pair of socks or-" you started to rant, mary frowning and grabbing your hips.

"its nine forty. your first class today is at nine thirty, so you're going to use my phone and call the studio now, explain whats happened and that you'll be there in time for your class at eleven." your wife spoke firmly but calmly as you could only nod.

"you can take my phone today and i'll look for yours, ignore any calls you get that aren't me. you're going to get properly dressed once you call the studio and i'll make you something quick to eat on the way, and you already packed your food to take with you last night yeah? its in the fridge. you're fine baby, we've got this, now take a breath." mary promised softly as again you nodded and exhaled.

"i love you." your hands fell either side of her face as you leaned up to peck her lips a few times, taking her phone soon as it was offered and disappearing into the ensuite to get ready in record time.

but somehow despite her assurances things only got worse from there.

the coffee mary made spilled all over you as you rushed to grab your belongings and hurry into the studio, a silent scream yelled at the sky which of course was seen by several of your students parents chatting in the parking lot.

face burning red you'd sent them an awkward smile and hurried inside, grateful that you at least worked in an environment where within seconds of picking up on your frantic energy you were handed new pants and shoved into the bathroom to change and take a breather.

finally sorting your head you pushed on and arrived early for your 11am class, where everything seemed to be going well for the first twenty minutes.

only of course with you distracted just momentarily with a message from mary indicating she'd found your phone tucked under delilahs pillow, the brief break in your supervision had a few of the girls messing around and suddenly there was a piercing scream.

with a likely shattered ankle, an ambulance called and a rousing lecture from the parents of the girl it all happened to, your day had gone from bad to horrible.

then walking down the road to grab some food, considering you left in such a rush that you left all of yours in the fridge, you felt something wet hit your neck and suddenly your day had gone from horrible to horrendous.

with a top coated in bird shit you decided to call it a day.

having your classes covered was easy enough, so much so it made you wish you'd just stayed in bed all day and avoided everything all together. even more when you arrived to your car, and rapidly realised thanks to the handy self locking feature mary insisted on having, your keys were...inside the car itself.

"you've gotta be taking the fucking piss." you mumbled, bag dropping to the ground as your forehead thumped against the glass and you exhaled deeply.

but no, the universe wasn't done with you yet.

you heard the rumble and looked up, having noticed earlier that the sky was darkening and shooting your wife a message about taking the washing off before the rain hit.

though you didn't have quite the same luck, eyes widening as the sky opened and you sprinted across the parking lot for cover as the rain began to torrent on down and down from the heavens above.

cursing and grumbling under your breath and soaked to the bone you pulled out your phone, ringing your wife and tapping your foot impatiently, groaning when it rang out without an answer.

you waited five minutes, then ten, and still no callback came from mary.

so giving up you used her phone to call an uber home, having a shared account anyway. gratefully despite the rain he arrived rather quickly and ignoring the judgmental look thrown your way for your dampened state by the driver you slid into the back seat.

he attempted small talk but when all you gave him were singular words or hums he seemed to catch the hint you weren't feeling all that chatty, turning up the radio as you watched manchester go by in a blur, rain splattering angrily against the window.

mumbling a quiet thank you as he pulled up outside your home you grabbed your bag and took a deep breath, opening the door and again legging it from the driveway up to your front steps, near slipping in the process as your heart lurched into your mouth.

of course without keys which were still locked in your car that was at the studio you pressed down on the doorbell, bag slung over your shoulder and arms wrapped tightly around your wet and shivering form.

impatiently ringing the door a second time you finally heard foosteps and the heavy wood swing open, your wife's eyes widening in shock at the state of you.

"babe why didn't you just use your keys?" you rolled your eyes and stepped inside, dropping your sodden bag at your feet. "why are you all wet?' marys frown deepened taking you in as again you remained silent, fighting your way our of your soaked runners.

"and where's the car??" mary eyebrows furrowed further as she glanced over your shoulder to see only her car in the driveway. "one more question mary, i dare you." you grunted, stripping off your saturated hoodie and shoving it into her hands, storming past her and making a beeline for the bedroom.

"mummy! you're home early!" you hated how you did but you winced at the sound of your daughters voice and her little feet racing toward you, head a thumping mess and patience razor thin as you forced a smile and turned, hovering in the doorway of your bedroom.

but sensing your mood mary was quick to snag the squirming four year old into her grip, not missing the way your body sagged slightly in relief.

"mummy just needs a minute of grown up time lilah." you forced another smile and backed into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind you as mary frowned again.

"is mummy okay?" delilah asked her with a frown of her own as mary quickly nodded, setting the girl back down on her feet. "she will be, she just needs some grown up time." mary nodded as your daughters eyebrows furrowed.

"whats that?" "well its when grown ups get to be alone without any kids around." mary smiled poking delilahs nose which scrunched. "sounds boring." "very boring, so go finish your cartoon and i'll come sit with you in a bit. okay?" mary asked hopefully as the four year old hesitated before nodding, racing back off the way she'd come.

knocking softly on the door mary heard a hum and took that as a silent come in, opening the door and stepping inside, a small smile forming at the lump in the middle of the bed.

"alright, baby whats happened?" mary sat on the corner, poking gently at your back as your head popped out, wet clothes abandoned in the bathroom as you weren't bothered to shower, just changing quickly into something dry.

so with a deep sigh that had marys heart aching you recounted the events of your day, your wifes lips not even curling into a slight smile as you feared she might make fun of you, but mary caught right onto how much this had affected you.

"oh my love, im so sorry i didn't answer i stupidly left your phone in the kitchen when i was playing with lilah. do you want a cuddle?" your wife frowned as you nodded, not moving from your position but opening your arms as the taller girl laid down and hugged you tightly, softly kissing the side of your head.

"okay. you're gonna have a lie down and i'm gonna draw you a bath, and keep lilah out of your hair for a bit." mary eventually pulled away, shaking her head when you tried to protest and silencing it with a proper kiss.

"i love you." you mumbled, head hitting the pillow as the goalkeeper smiled and moved a strand of hair behind your ear. "i love you more, i'll be back in a bit babe." and with that she was grabbing your wet clothes and she was gone as your eyes slipped closed, covers pulled back over your head blocking out the world.

"lilah!" mary called out from the bathroom, having tossed your clothes in to wash and starting to run a bath once she'd checked on your daughter, delilah appearing quickly and nearly tackling mary into the bath as she jumped on her back.

"woah! stick to the bathroom speed limit please speedy." your wife chuckled as delilah giggled, clinging onto marys back tightly who grabbed her legs and stood, moving to gently lower her down onto the counter.

"okay. now you and me tiny, we've got a mission to do." mary started as delilah nodded, now locked in with a serious expression which made mary smile.

"mummy has had a no good horrible very bad day, and you and me? we've gotta fix it." mary explained as delilah nodded again. "so step one-" mary held up a finger, grinning as her daughter mirrored her actions.

"-we run her a lovely hot bath." mary gestured behind her where the bath was slowly filling up, the scent of lavender and chamomile filling the room from the oils she'd dropped in. "step two-" mary held up a second finger, delilah doing the same.

"-we clean up the house. play room, living room, your room, my room, kitchen." mary ticked off, delilah sighing at that but nodding. "we can make a game of it, no frowning tiny." mary tickled her stomach as the girl giggled and seemed to perk up.

"step three, we bake mummy some cookies and watch her favorite movie." mary recounted as delilah perked up even more at that, swinging her legs and nodding very eagerly as your wife grinned.

"then step four we get pizza for dinner, give mummy lots of cuddles and kisses, and tell her how much we love her. can you do that?" mary asked as delilah nodded. "yes." she promised.

"very good. can you go start tidying up the play room please? properly! no cutting corners." mary pinched her cheeks as delilah grinned but agreed, lifting her arms up as mary gently placed her down on the ground and she took off.

finishing off the bath and ensuring it was a perfect temperature mary returned to your bedroom, smiling at the sight of you asleep half hanging out of the covers.

"hey, wakey wakey beautiful." your eyes fluttered open at that, blinking tiredly and forcing yourself to sit up as your wife moved your hair out of your face with a soft smile.

"baths ready." mary informed as you nodded still half asleep. "carry me." you mumbled tiredly, a small smile curling into your features as her boisterous laugh filled the room but none the less she stood and did as you asked.

"perfectly hot water, skin care lined up and ready to go for afterwards, speaker and phone for music if you want it and dryer warmed towel. your, my, favourite hoodie, fluffy pants and socks hung up for after, and of course lilahs favourite toys to keep you company." mary hugged you from behind and softly kissed your neck, a small rumble of laughter leaving you at the sight of the small tug boat and duck floating around which your daughter had insisted to mary you needed for it to be a perfect bath.

"mary you're the best." you sighed gratefully, craning your head back and puckering your lips which she quickly pressed her own against them. "only the best for the best." she promised sincerely, letting go as you started to strip off.

"enjoy darling." of course she couldn't resist her hand gently patting your ass with a wink. "you couldn't help yourself could you?" you raised an eyebrow with a knowing smile as your wife only grinned.

"made you smile though didn't it?"

~

mary sang along to the music beating through the kitchen, the final room left to tidy as you were yet to emerge from the bathroom much to her relief, wanting it all done by the time you had.

the cookies were made and in the oven and the mess from the task nearly all gone, delilah sat on her shoulders and very carefully putting things away in the cupboard as mary dried them and handed them to her.

"you're being a superstar helper today tiny, i really appreciate it." mary complimented, handing the girl one last mug which delilah very gently set away in its place, grabbing onto mary as she moved stepping back to close the cupboard doors.

"i like doing nice things for mummy cause she's always doing nice things for me!" delilah chirped as mary squatted and lowered her back down to the floor. "thats very sweet of you lilah." mary smiled, kissing your daughters cheek and accepting the hug which was thrown her way.

"hugging without me?" you smiled at the sight, in a bit more of a bettered mood after a long soak in the bath. "hey! get out of here we're not done yet!" you laughed in surprise as your daughter attempted to push you out of the kitchen.

"mama, get her out." delilah ordered sternly as mary grinned, shrugging at your curious look her way and assisting your four year old to remove you from the kitchen.

"please go wait in the bedroom and we shall fetch you when everything is ready m'lady." mary put on an accent making delilah giggle and you playfully roll your eyes.

but doing as you were asked you waited and doom scrolled on your phone for a further ten or so minutes before you were summoned. "mummy! we're ready now." delilah climbed up onto the bed and wiggled happily before launching at you.

"ready for what hm?" you smiled as the small blonde only smiled and patted your head. "have to come and see." she chirped, kissing your forehead like mary often did and jumping down from the bed.

"lilah careful!" you warned, unable to turn the mum switch off as you followed after her, your words falling on deaf ears as your wife stood in the living room, delilah bouncing happily on the sofa.

"whats all this then?" you smiled softly at the sight in front of you. "surprise!" delilah yelled with a grin. "we cleaned the house, made you cookies and loaded up your favourite movie." mary explained, your heart swelling at her words.

"then later we're gettin pizza and you get lots of cuddle and kisses because we love you!" delilah hopped to the end of the sofa and you hurried forward recognizing what she was about to do, sure enough moments later the four year old surging off the arm rest as you were quick to catch her.

"what have we said about not jumping off things? if you hurt your ankle you can't dance." you warned softly but sternly. "mama lets me!" delilah protested as mary paled, sending you a guilty smile as you sighed but decided that was a conversation for another time.

"well this is all very very lovely, and i love you both very much." your features softened and you pretended not to notice the way your wifes body sighed in relief she'd avoided a telling off for now at least.

"love you more." delilahs small hands fell to your cheeks making your smile widen. "love you most." you countered, honking her nose as she giggled. "oh! wait i want harold to watch with us." you put her down and she raced off to grab her favourite stuffed cow alessia had bought her a few months ago which never left her side.

"you're very sweet but you didn't need to make all this fuss over me babe." you promised as your wife tugged your body into hers, hands on your hips as your arms wound round her neck.

"course i did. i love you and you had a no good horrible very bad day and our vows were to be there for better or for worse. so i did my best to make the worst a little better." mary smiled, softly kissing you a few times as you melted into her, the sounds of footsteps having you both breaking apart.

"so, what are we watching?" you laughed as you sat down on the sofa and delilah clambered on top of you, wriggling around until she was comfortable as mary wedged in beside you, all three of you basically squished onto one cushion despite the endless space.

"love actually!" mary announced, clicking into it on the tv as you let out a loud pelt of laughter. "what?" your wife frowned, clearly a little confused at your reaction as delilah took the opportunity to ram a cookie into her mouth.

"well firstly, i don't know if thats the most appropriate movie for-" you gestured to the four year old happily munching away at a cookie, cheeks puffed out resembling a chipmunk making mary chuckle and shake her head.

"and secondly, mary thats your favorite movie not mine!"

[erinfern0]

roommates to lovers.

kyle "gaz" garrick x gn!reader

summary: getting a roommate seems like the best idea to help you with financial problems, especially with expensive rent, bills, and all. Kyle seems like the perfect fit, maybe not just as your roomie.

warnings: just sweet fluff, maybe a tiny bit emotional.

a/n: this is the first addition to my series of trope-based COD fics, let me know if you'd like to know the full list of my ideas before I post the fics as a masterlist!! Don't mind possible mistakes, I'll fix them tomorrow. I'm just a little tipsy now, but I really wanted to post this already!!

Barely getting ends to meet, you search the internet for possibilities of making your situation better. That's how you get the idea — finding yourself a roommate might at least help your financial issues a bit. You find some groups and chats for people looking for places to stay, and you stumble upon Kyle. A guy who knows it's better to share an apartment since most of the time he's away on deployment, so it's way cheaper than buying one for himself. Looking through his application, you found him interesting, to say the least.

Young sergeant, a gym rat who likes to cook and doesn't mind taking over all the chores whenever he's back. He doesn't listen to music loudly, likes his place clean and tidy, and seems charismatic. A perfect fit for you — who would get too stressed out if you had to see him every day. But he's home for a couple of days and leaves for deployment, so you don't need to worry that much.

Soon, he moved in with you, and you immediately felt a slight spark between you. You spend so much time together, that you seem to forget how life went without him beside you. Every time you accidentally brush against him in the hallway or in the kitchen, you feel that warm electricity. You start liking him and feel upset since in a few days he'll be gone again.

For the past months, your friends have been teasing you about your 'strange' relationship. How protective and caring he was of you, how you always had to touch each other in some sort of way. They've been mentioning how oblivious you two were and how you're practically a couple already, but you'd just ignore them.

It was only now that you felt they might have been right all along. Just a roommate, a friend at best wouldn't miss him as much as you did and you missed him way more than you thought this time. Getting a message from him didn't help you at all. A simple text, just after midnight, almost made you cry.

Gyle Karrick: It will take longer than expected. Three months, they say. Can't wait to see you again, xoxo

And fuck, you couldn't wait to see him, too.

Weeks passed on numerous phone calls whenever you could get a hold of him through his busy schedule. Lonely meals, mundane chores, and even your passions started to bore you to your limits. One of the few things you were looking forward to was his message. But day after day, you'd experience the same disappointment and worry.

That was until one day you were looking through selfies you took together or pictures of him while he was asleep on the couch while watching a movie. Adorable. Oh, you missed him. Later on that day, you sat in the living room, reading through your notes and textbooks to occupy your mind, as you heard someone try to open the door with their key.

It was late, you thought. That it's just your mind playing tricks on you, but no. Seconds later, he's inside the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible as he thinks you should be sleeping. He sees the lights are on and freezes, unsure how to act. But as soon as you stand up from the couch, he drops the duffle bag he was holding, catching you as you run into his arms.

Unspoken greetings and a warm and tight hug almost made you two fall to the floor. But none of you seem to care, too occupied with hands wrapping around each other's bodies. Kyle looks into your eyes as you lean back, his gaze is so soft, so sweet, you seem to melt with the brown of them.

You're not sure when, but you lean forward, lips catching his. It's quick, he barely registers it. You want to apologize, feeling the warmth of your cheeks, the dizziness in your head. But he comes right back, kissing you again. This time, it's slow and sweet, just as you imagined him to be all those nights when he was away. You reach to his neck, wrapping your arms around it as he cups your face, pulling you closer.

“You're home,” you whisper breathlessly as soon as you pull away, your eyes meeting his lazily. The happiness of your voice makes him chuckle and point out how it was just a couple of months.

He, the sergeant with god-like attractiveness, bright mind, and silly humor, felt the same way you did. Kyle reminded himself of all the lonely nights he spent on deployment, imagining coming back to your shared apartment to see your gorgeous face again, to hear that sweet laugh, and to just enjoy the warmth of your body against his.

None of you expected the kiss or the butterflies flying around in your stomachs that came afterward, but it was more than perfect. His hand gently caressed the single tear that was running down your face and kissed the spot right after.

“You're my home.”

masterlist | request info