#it was just love. it was just an ACCIDENT

[reshinless]

──── see me, see me not

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. in which kinich takes his headwear off, and puts it on you (in a different way)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader,!!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. i have a feeling he would not gonna lie :pray:

"p- please.. kin- t'fast.." is all you could whimper out as kinich swallowed at the sight of your pretty body being used- slamming himself into your red, puffy hole from behind. each heavenly thrust only making you throw your head back in everlasting pleasure

both your breathy moans filled the space you both stayed in- kinich who just groans your name, the red bow-like marks made from his nails as he left a breathy gasp, almost like catching his breath still. his stares at how well your entrance took him drove him frantic.

"oh f-fffuck.." is all you could hear, kinich's headwear comfortably over your eyes— the beads of sweat on both your forehead's scent only brimming the room. feeling a pair of two fingers come to your mouth- "suck." a raspy voice emits from behind you.

kinich who overhears mualani stepping into the lobby outside the small room he unconveniently chose. "kinich! where are you?!" is heard visibly throughout the halls as he holds your hips close, pushing you up against the wall from your previous position of simply bending over and taking his cock :o

"quiet, baby." is all you hear, kinich who still won't take the blindfold off of your eyes, yet he just oh-so accidently grinds his cock against your g-spot. his fingers in your mouth, as you bite down on them a little as he tries to keep your volume to a minimum while still giving you as much pleasure as possible.

your heart raced as mualani reached for the knob of the door before someone from outside called her for help, making her leave effectively. kinich who loved the adrenaline of almost being caught, only letting the moans escape your glossy lips as he finally released his fingers from your mouth— "ahh— shit sweetheart, that's right.. ssshitt..." he groaned from behind.

the way you start to clench around him with his merciless thrust keeping its pace, oh he's gonna cum in you. whining as you feel him changing the position again, this time to his favorite- missionary.

wherein he secures your thighs around his waist, his strength keeping you up on the wall, you can hear each little squelch, every little plop. "yeeaahh.. that's right, pretty." hearing your wails of pleasure, leaning down to mark you around your collarbone as he kept up the violent strikes, watching the way you fumble your hands anywhere you could, not being able to see what he was doing, you're so pretty, he wished you could see that for yourself.

"uhuh? ffuck.. yeah you gonna come baby?" his teasing tone into the shell of your ear, feeling his warm breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine, your hips quavered at his actions, you were already starting to see stars.

the way he hit you so raw, you feel as if you'll be snapped in half soon, his tight grip on your waist, and securing your legs to attach his torso, if he doesn't slow down you might just crack! the insane amount of stamina you gain after working as a hunter for so long definitely is a ton. drilling his cock into you, feeling every inch inside of you, every vein come in and out.

he huffs "shit you feel.. s' good pretty.. so fffuckin' good.." —you can smell every detail on him, the floral smell he always has on that he promises isn't on purpose, mixed with the moist, and musky scent of your swear (& his).

kinich, with a long groan, "just one more, baby.. just one moreee.." who's been saying that for the past 3 hours, but who can blame him when he just can't get enough of you. cumming inside you for about the fifth time already! who wouldn't cum with the way you clench down onto his cock with your velvety entrance, or the way you'd scratch at his back (after finally finding where he was), claw marks that looks of a beast. who wouldn't cum, seeing how much your entrance was talking to him, luring him in, so wet and ready for him, you were practically made for him, and his cock.

how many times has he emptied himself into you? can't count. how many times have you come on his dick alone? can't count either. how many hours has it been? stop asking me questions!

watching the way your back arched as you moaned out his name, the way you legs shivered, the intense heavenly feeling of getting to cum with you was more passionate than anything he's done in the past. he hadn't even realized the way your juices squirted everywhere!

"huh.. that's the first time i've seen you do that."

...

"wanna do that again?"

kinich weapon alert !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i have no resin sighh)

[luveline]

hey! i wanted to request r with a best friend!marauder, and she feels guilty for being a clingy/touchy bsf? eg. always holds hands and loops arms together and loves hugs. but said marauder comforts her? thank you jadey

The steps off of the bus feel especially steep on just four hours sleep. You’re not dizzy, but when James offers his hand from the ground, you accept it. Much less scary to know he could catch you if you slipped. 

“I’m surprised we weren’t holding hands already,” he says, giving yours a squeeze as you land, and pulling you to the side where the already departed rugby team and their family members wait for their luggage to be retrieved from the bus’ belly.

“Oh, I know,” you say. There’s an odd awkwardness to it that you’re trying to bury. 

James is used to you. Your hand in his is casual, perhaps a little too much for company, but it’s just hand-holding. You like feeling that he’s near, the slight chill of British summer more readily suffered with his palm against yours. He runs hot. 

He lets your joined hands swing gently with the wait, doesn’t bother letting it go until the luggage is all out. James grabs his duffel bag and your suitcase, and everyone makes their way to the hotel. It’s late —the team were expecting to be here much sooner but there had been a punctured tire, and then an accident on the M4. James will have to play the game tomorrow with less hours of sleep than intended, but he’ll play well. 

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” James says a little later, when you’ve shoved your suitcase under the double bed. He turns off the big light. 

“That is an uncharacteristically large word.” 

“Loser,” he says, pushing down the blankets to sit next to you. He rubs his mouth and nose, then he turns to you, all business. “You are quiet, though. What’s the matter? Still feel poorly?” 

“I feel fine.” 

“You look awful.” He winces at his own harshness. “You look upset, sorry. And you still have sleep in your eyes, let me–”

You sigh and tilt your head up for him to scratch the sleep from your eye. For a moment, it’s quiet, just your face in his hand, his fingernail against the delicate inside of your eye. “Do you ever think we’re too close?” 

“Not really. Sometimes when you kick me in your sleep, maybe.” He takes back his hands. 

“You don’t care that I’m, like, constantly on you? I don’t know, like earlier, when you helped me off of the bus. Most friends wouldn’t keep holding on to each other after, but we do.” 

“Most friends wouldn’t take a nine hour bus just to see me play an away game, so…” James gives you a little poke in the ribs. “But we aren’t friends, we’re best friends. So what if we want to hold hands? That’s our business.” 

You frown. “You really don’t care? Even when I’m harassing you for hugs and stuff?” Nausea sits in your chest, waiting for him to say, Yeah, actually, the hugging is a bit much. 

“Babe, I love you,” James says, his glasses slipping down his nose as he gives a shake of the head. His eyebrows are pinched in confusion, but his mouth is softening. “How long have you been thinking about this?” 

“I just don’t want to be a burden.” 

“You’re never a burden.” He opens his arms. 

You crawl into his embrace, reassured by his chin where it digs into your forehead, and his warm voice. 

“You don’t bother me. We bother each other, right? We fight like kids. I love it, I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything.” He pauses. Hums. “‘Cept a Big Mac. I’m starving, I can’t believe we got stuck on the motorway like that.” 

“You’d trade me for a Big Mac?” 

“In a moment of weakness.” 

His smile curves against your head. His arms settle on your back. It’s the same as every other hug you’ve shared, warm and easy. “I wouldn’t,” he murmurs, “I don’t know why you’re worried about being too much, but don’t bother. You’re touchy, I’m touchy, we’re affectionate people.” 

“I spent too long on that stupid bus,” you say, dropping your flushed face into his shoulder. 

“You definitely did. Why would I care about you hugging me too much?” His hand moves gently up and down. “You give the best hugs around.” 

[judebellswife]

Shattered Trust, Mended Hearts

— REQUESTED by ANON / REQUEST status: OPEN

— pairing • jude bellingham x soft!reader

— summary • Jude Bellingham, consumed by jealousy and fueled by rumors, believes his girlfriend is cheating on him. In a moment of anger, he refuses to let her explain, kicking her out of their shared apartment. Tragedy strikes when she gets into a life-threatening accident, leaving Jude overwhelmed by guilt and regret. With her in the hospital, he reflects on his mistakes and learns that love and trust are fragile but worth fighting for. Realizing that she never betrayed him, Jude is forced to confront his own insecurities. Together, they find a way to rebuild their broken relationship, restoring what was lost in a sea of misunderstanding and pain.

— warnings • Heavy angst, miscommunication, car accident, hospital scenes, mention of injuries, emotional turmoil.

"Jude, please, just listen to me—"

"I’ve already heard enough!" Jude's voice roared through the apartment, his anger palpable, bouncing off the walls like daggers. He stood in the kitchen, fists clenched, chest heaving, trying to contain the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. His dark eyes, usually so warm when they looked at you, were cold and distant, as if he couldn’t even recognize you.

You stood frozen near the door, the keys you had just placed on the entry table trembling under your fingers. You had no idea what you were walking into. Coming home after a long day at work, all you wanted was to relax with Jude, maybe watch a movie, talk about your day—but instead, you were met with fury.

"Jude," you whispered, your voice shaking, tears already welling in your eyes. "Please. Just tell me what’s going on."

He scoffed bitterly, turning away from you as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Don’t act like you don’t know," he muttered, his back to you now as he stared out the window into the rainy night.

You blinked, confused. "I—I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Jude whipped around, his expression dark. "Oh, don’t play innocent, Y/N. I know about you and Ryan."

The mention of Ryan's name hit you like a punch to the gut. Ryan was a colleague from work—someone you'd had to collaborate with closely for the last few weeks due to a project, but it had never been anything more than that. He was friendly, sure, but you never saw him in that way. You never even thought Jude would be suspicious. "Ryan? Jude, he's just a co-worker, we—"

"A co-worker? That’s funny, because that’s not what everyone else seems to think!" Jude's voice was dripping with bitterness, a tone you had never heard from him before. "Do you think I’m stupid? You think I don’t see the way you’ve been acting? Coming home late, spending more time with him than with me—"

You shook your head frantically, trying to approach him, but he stepped back, his face twisted in hurt and disbelief. "Jude, no, it's not like that! I swear, it’s just work! There’s nothing going on between me and Ryan, you have to believe me!"

But Jude wasn’t listening. He wasn’t hearing you. All he could see, all he could feel, was the poison that had been festering in his mind for days, the doubts and insecurities that had been fueled by whispers and rumors. He was blinded by his pain.

"You think I’m an idiot? You think I haven’t heard the rumors? Everyone’s been talking about it, Y/N. About how you and him have been seen together, laughing, having lunch, all those 'late nights' at the office. I bet they weren’t all about work, were they?"

You were shaking now, tears streaming down your face as you tried to reach out to him. "Jude, please. I would never—"

"I don’t want to hear it!" His voice cracked, loud and raw, and it silenced you. His anger was too much, too overwhelming. You had never seen him like this before—this angry, this distant. And it broke your heart to see the doubt in his eyes, the mistrust.

"I thought I knew you," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost more painful than his shouts. "I thought we had something real. But maybe I was wrong."

Your chest constricted painfully, your breath hitching as you reached for him one last time, desperate to hold on to something that was slipping away. "Jude, please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Don’t do this. I love you."

But Jude’s gaze hardened. "If you loved me, you wouldn’t have lied to me."

The silence that followed was deafening, your heart shattering into a million pieces as he turned his back to you again, his next words sealing your fate.

"Get out."

You stood there, frozen, your mind racing as you tried to comprehend what he had just said. "What?"

"Get. Out," he repeated, his voice quiet but firm, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you anymore. "I don’t want to see you right now."

Your world came crashing down in that moment, the weight of his words too much to bear. You opened your mouth to say something, to beg him to listen to you, but no words came out. You felt numb, completely broken.

With trembling hands, you grabbed your bag and stumbled toward the door, your vision blurry from the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. As you reached for the doorknob, you turned back one last time, hoping—praying—that Jude would stop you, that he would realize how wrong he was and call you back.

But he didn’t.

He stood there, rigid and unmoving, his eyes focused on the floor, his expression unreadable.

And so, you left.

The rain was relentless, soaking through your clothes as you stepped out onto the dark street. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering both from the cold and the overwhelming despair that consumed you. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t breathe. All you could do was walk, your feet moving without direction, aimlessly wandering the city streets, your mind still reeling from everything that had just happened.

How had things gone so wrong? How had the love you shared with Jude turned into this nightmare?

You pulled out your phone, trying to dial your friend’s number, but your hands were trembling too much to type properly. You managed to hit send, but as you crossed the street, you didn’t hear the roar of the car coming toward you until it was too late.

The blinding lights flashed before your eyes, and then— Nothing.

Jude sat on the couch, his hands covering his face as he let out a shaky breath. He had kicked you out. The realization sank in slowly, the weight of what he’d done pressing down on him like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

I kicked her out.

The anger that had burned so fiercely in him just moments ago was gone, replaced by a sickening sense of guilt and dread. The apartment felt too quiet, too empty without you there. And now, sitting there alone in the dark, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something was terribly wrong.

His phone buzzed in his lap, dragging him out of his thoughts. It wasn’t a number he recognized.

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse, tired.

"Is this Jude Bellingham?" a woman’s voice asked, calm but urgent.

"Yes," he answered slowly, his heart beginning to race. "Who is this?"

"This is St. Mary’s Hospital. I’m calling about your partner. She’s been in an accident."

Jude felt the floor drop out from beneath him. "An accident? What—how bad is it?"

"She’s in critical condition. We need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible."

Jude’s legs felt like lead as he sprinted through the hospital’s sterile halls, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he reached the emergency ward. His heart pounded violently in his chest, panic rising with each step.

A nurse led him to your room, where the sight of you lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines, left him frozen in place.

His world shattered in that moment.

You were so pale, so still, and the beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Jude sank into the chair by your bedside, his hands shaking as he reached out to take yours.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking as tears filled his eyes. "God, I’m so sorry, *Y/N*. I didn’t mean any of it. I should’ve believed you."

He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips as his tears fell freely now. "Please wake up," he begged. "Please. I need you. I—I love you. I was so stupid. I should have trusted you."

The guilt gnawed at him, tearing him apart as he watched your chest rise and fall weakly with each breath. How had he let things spiral this far? Why hadn’t he listened? Why hadn’t he let you explain?

For three days, Jude didn’t leave your side. He barely slept, barely ate. He couldn’t think of anything else but you and how wrong he had been.

When your fingers twitched on the fourth day, Jude’s heart leapt in his chest.

Your eyes fluttered open, groggy and disoriented, the bright lights of the hospital room making you wince. Everything felt heavy, your body aching, and it took you a moment to remember what had happened.

"Y/N?" Jude’s voice was soft, but urgent, pulling you back to reality. You turned your head slowly, finding him sitting beside you, his face pale, eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying.

"Jude…" you whispered, your voice hoarse.

Jude reached for your hand, his fingers trembling as he held yours tightly. "I’m so sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I was so wrong, *Y/N*. I was so stupid. I—I didn’t trust you, and I should have. I should have believed you. None of this—none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t been such an idiot."

You blinked, trying to process everything, your heart aching at the sight of him so broken. "Jude…" you whispered again, trying to find the right words. "It’s okay."

"No, it’s not." He shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pressed your hand to his lips. "It’s not okay. I almost lost you because I was too caught up in my own insecurities to trust you. I should’ve known you would never… I should’ve known better."

You looked into his eyes, the raw pain and regret there clear as day, and despite everything—despite the accident, the pain, the heartache—you still loved him. You had always loved him. "Jude, I love you," you whispered, managing a small smile despite the tears in your own eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you. I would never cheat on you."

He let out a shuddering breath, leaning down to rest his forehead against your hand. "I know," he whispered. "I know now. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear. If you’ll have me."

You squeezed his hand weakly, your voice soft but filled with emotion. "Of course I will. I’m not going anywhere."

Jude let out a soft, broken laugh through his tears, leaning in to gently press his lips to your forehead. "I love you so much," he whispered against your skin. "And I’m never letting you go again."

[doberbutts]

I'm pulling this out because this shit is funny as hell hold on

Merry and Pippin (2 in 1) actual hijinks and shenanigans of mutual stumbling over each other's first times. Bonus points if they are hours apart. Pippin finds Merry rolling in the hay in the morning, decides he wants in on this and doesn't want to be outdone, finds himself a willing partner, and Merry interrupts them by accident. Comedy gold.

I don't view Frodo as someone interested in sex (boos and hisses from the Sam/Frodo crowd) however Sam I think would similarly be Frodo opening the door to their shared living space after the quest and Sam's, err, "helping" Rosie in the kitchen. Sam stutters an apology, Rosie starts trying to explain, and meanwhile Frodo's just like "really? where we eat???"

Blink and you'll miss it moment between Legolas and Gimli OR the most intense, drawn out, intimate yet tasteful scene with a bonus at the end where Gimli goes "wait wym we're elf-married now". Probably in Rohan, after the drinking contest.

I'm choosing to believe that the scene between Arwen and Aragorn in Rivendell before he left, where she's wearing a mostly translucent shift and he is in a state of far more undress than we've seen him prior and ever seen him again, is a post-sex scene. So just put it there.

There is not a single person who will ever be able to convince me that Boromir did not get mad pussy in Gondor. The same goes for Faramir, who was loved by all except their father.

Gandalf, also, is not a sexual being to me. But with PJ's insistence on highlighting Gandalf's relationship to both Galadriel and Celeborn, I would believe him to be a third in whatever dynamic suits them.. Maybe he and Galadriel have telepathic elf magic ring sex and Celeborn is just like "yeah sure that's fine w/e". This is movie-canon only, of course.

Bilbo also- reclusive, kept to himself, constantly wandering the wilds alone or with Gandalf? Either he and Gandalf are regularly FWB adventure buddies or they're just plain uninterested in the whole deal.

I'm of two minds with Smeagol. On one hand there is great comedy gold with the little fucked up loincloth man and on the other hand there is so much tragedy to his character that I can't decide if it would be funnier to have him still have sexual desires or if it would be sadder to take him at his word when he states that he lost all desire and interest and pleasure in everything except the Ring. Perhaps he attempted to have sex with another Stoor early on in his possession of the Ring, before he was chased away. Maybe someone he had been trying to court, before the murder of Deagol and the subsequent chained events of consequences.

[insert-this-fire]

Overpoweringly Sweet

Logan Howlett aka Wolverine x gn!nonspecified mutant! Reader

Summary: Somehow you contracted Hanahaki for a man you hardly ever spoken to. Cant end well can it?

W/C: ~9k Warnings: a little OOC, angst, graphic description of coughing up flowers with blood.

AO3 Mirror A/N: I never post actual fics on tumblr but I feel that it needs to be done here. So sorry if its kinda formatted weird? it will also be on AO3!. First x-men fic too so sorry if its a bit ooc. Not really based on any specific iteration of Wolverine. Also not edited like, at all. Also I take requests! :3

~~ :3 ~~

You know, having a crush on someone so unattainable is laughable at best. Having a crush on them and apparently somehow contracting Hanahaki is even worse. How does that even happen? You haven’t even spoken to the guy more than a few words. Too embarrassed to open your mouth to introduce yourself and you work together. Yet here you are, petals on the bathroom floor and a constricting feeling in your throat. Your head lying on the back of the stall door. Still heaving from the sudden onslaught of overly sickly floral-scented petals that spilled out.

Gardenias. Pure white and mocking. 

The smell of them made you nauseous. The sight of them even more so. After looking up what they meant. It just made things even worse.

Secret love. How fitting.

It’s a damn crush, and the world decided it was love. Love for a grumpy ass old man with hair that kinda made you think of a cat. Actually, he reminded you of a cat in general. One that you want to rest your face on and fall asleep. Bury your face in those pecs of his. Muscles may look hard, but they do have a bit of squish. By God, does he have muscles. You’ve caught him shirtless a few times. All by accident, of course. You weren’t a pervert. Anytime you think of it, your jaw clenches tight.

Ah, getting off-topic here. Back to the fact that apparently, hanahaki doesn’t care if you’ve ever talked to someone before.

The stall door was cool against your cheek when you turned your head, and it was less gross than hugging the toilet like you wanted to so you could flush the flowers down the drain. It was terrible. The petals surround you, and a single full bloom floats mockingly in the toilet.

You know how to cure it. The moment that the flower petals started to spill from your lips, you desperately looked for what it was. It wasn’t that hard to find, apparently some find it sickeningly romantic. Bet they never had to deal with the ache that was constant around your lungs. You found the cure for it as well. Should be easy to do, right? Tell the person how you feel and they return it, or get it surgically removed. The surgery should be the right choice. It’s the only choice. You’ve hardly spoken to the man who coveted your affection, but the thought of not feeling the tug of your heart when you see him was too much to bear. Which makes no sense! It’s a dumb crush.

God, you’re an idiot.

A deep breath fills your lungs slightly, and the pain wraps around your chest as you try to get a full breath. Your hands find purchase on the rim of the toilet, and you push yourself up. Now, on two shaky legs, you wipe your mouth. You need to clean up the petals before anyone comes in. It was still the middle of the day, and classes were still going. Thank God the coughing fit didn’t hit you till lunch, or you would have to explain to a classroom full of students. That would be embarrassing. Yeah sorry class, your teacher is in love with someone they can’t have, let’s continue with the lesson now! Embarrassing.

Your hands start to pick up the petals. Each one feels as if it was searing into your skin. One, two, five, ten, thirty. Thirty petals and one full bloom. You were screwed. You could go to Hank. See if he knew any other way around it, any way to fix the disgusting flowers that took root in your lungs. Maybe being a mutant changed how to cure the disease? That was just hopeful thinking, though.

After mulling over the choices for a few moments more, you finally unlock the stall door and walk over to the garbage, quickly discarding the petals that did not make it into the toilet.

Your feet then carry you out of the bathroom and, as luck would have it, right into the chest of the one person you did not want to face yet.

Logan.

You were right, though. The muscles on his chest were squishy. God you want to just motorboat him real fast. Would that be weird? Yeah it would be. As quickly as you ran into him, you tried to remove yourself from his personal space. You know the guy wasn’t too fond of touch. You think. You actually… don’t know. Words quickly spill from your mouth as you try to apologize. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t see you.”

Logan just makes some gruff-sounding noise and continues on his way. You could faintly see as he walked away scrunching of his nose. He was probably able to smell the faint floral scent that was clinging to you. It probably wasn’t pleasant. You didn’t like the scent, it probably was a lot stronger on his end.

As you stand in the hallway after the sudden bump into your crush, you place your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart, and you walk in the opposite direction to your classroom. It hurt that he didn’t even say anything back to your apology, but that seemed pretty in character. To you, at least. If you were on friendlier terms, maybe not, but you doubt he even knows your name.

The thought of the surgery resurfaces in your head. Maybe you should get it. Ignore the deep-seated pain in your heart at the thought of losing your feelings for him. However, the repercussions of a botched removal is another reason not to do so. It could remove the feeling of ever being in love again. Would that be so bad though?

You shake your head. You have a class you have to get back to… and a phone call to make.

The day continued on like normal after that. Classes, grading papers, discreetly removing petals from your mouth into the trashcan by your desk as you graded papers. A new norm for you. It did seem that a few students had noticed a slight change in you. In fact, one of them even got you a get well soon card. Sweet, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

If you don’t get better soon, you will probably end up another statistic for the disease. How many people were there that had it and perished as the roots wrapped around the lungs and slowly filled the valves on the heart. Too many, probably. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at that. That’s why you were now sitting in your now empty classroom, making a phone call. You had found a number to a doctor who specializes in the disease. You would get some advice and decide from there what you want to do.

The phone rings, once, twice….

“Hello, this is Dr. Forrest’s office. How may I help you?” How fitting a doctor who knows about Hanahaki has a nature-based last name.

You quickly introduce yourself and ask if you could speak to him or schedule an appointment. Apparently the only way to talk to him is with an appointment. The next one isn’t for a few months. You don’t even know if you’ll last that long. You’ve been keeping track. A full bloom appeared today. A singular full bloom, no steam. The petals were loose so it had to be in the early start of the mid stages. It was taking its time infecting you. It must be due to not seeing Logan all the time.

You do tend to avoid him when you can. The thought of seeing him always makes your cheeks burn. Man was just too hot. It made it seem like you were in love with just his looks! You weren’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be coughing up all these petals. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t just his looks. The flower has a meaning, after all.

Maybe if you avoid Logan, actually stop trying to see if you can see him across the halls. Stop looking for him during dining hours. Just try to ignore him. Though unless he was going to go on one of those sudden long vanishing acts. Well, you doubt that you actually will be able to avoid him enough to live till the next appointment. You really are screwed. Shit.

Running a hand over your face with a groan you lean back in the chair behind your desk. What should you do? The surgery now seemed to be out of the question. So now you either confess and die, or you just die. Which definitely was not the ideal thing to do. You were screwed. Hands down. Your name is on the death warrant the moment the receptionist said months. Maybe you should go to Hank. Dude was a certified genius right? He would know something.

A knock at your door made you jump. Quickly you lift your head and look over to the closed door to your classroom. Could be a student, another faculty member? Whoever it was either needed you or the room.

“Come on in.”

Silence followed and then the door opened up. Your gaze turns to the door, ready to answer whatever questions that are going to follow. Till you hear the tall tale sound of boots, heavy. The sound of jeans rubbing against legs. A jacket rustling slightly from movement. Jeez, why are you suddenly so aware of the sounds?

Your eyes hone in on the man you’ve been thinking about. Logan. Twice. TWICE in one day you’ve seen him up close. See him in your space. He never seeks you out. You never get to see him up close like this more than once or twice a week. It’s like you’re in a fanfiction and someone is pushing the two of you together.

That’s silly though, this was real life.

“Oh, Logan. How can I… help you?” Could you sound any more awkward? You want to bang your head on your desk. Especially with how he was just looking at you. Should you have called him Wolverine? Mr. Howlett?

“You need to let up on that perfume you’re wearing. Can smell it all over the hall.” His face gives away the fact he smells something he doesn’t like. 

Perfume?... Perfume… The flowers. Of course he could smell it. The floral scent has been clinging to you since the first petals slipped from between your lips.

“Oh, heh sorry. I’ll try to use less of it.” You just laugh a bit, still feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, the sudden tickle in your throat reminding you that you could not stop the smell from permeating your skin. That it will linger on you till you no longer have these flowers growing inside of your chest. “If I use too much again I’m sorry. Can’t really tell when I use too much or not.”

Blue eyes narrow at you, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. That he should call you out on it. “Thanks bub, it’s masking everything else.”

With that he left the room as quickly as he came, there was a slight pause and you can tell he glanced at the trash can by your desk. The trash can that had a few petals thrown in haphazardly. Thought to be hidden by the papers that you threw on top. You hope that is all he sees.

That was such an awkward interaction. You slam your head on the desk once more. God why are you such an idiot.

~~ :3c ~~

Time continues on like normal, but recently you catch Logan at the corner of your eye. Which is normal, you usually do seek him out. Yet now it’s like he is everywhere you go. Walking in the gardens, he’s out there smoking one of his cigars leaning on a tree or the wall of the mansion. You’d be eating and you’d see him a table or two away, his eyes on you. You can feel them boring into your skin. You’ll be walking in the hallways and see him turning a corner before you fully spot him. More often than not you find him outside of the bathroom you were just in after coughing up a storm. Just standing by the door like a guard dog. Always scrunching his nose when the door opens and the aroma of flowers follows you out.

He knew. He had to. He had to know something was wrong with you. There is no way he doesn’t. The man has been alive long enough that he probably knows the signs of what you have. The disease that is currently ruining your life. He has probably seen all sorts of people who have had Hanahaki. You won’t be the first, nor the last person he has seen inflicted with it either. It’s probably why he’s keeping an eye on you. He must have found out when he came to ask you to stop using so much perfume and yet you still smell that sickeningly floral smell on you.

Unless you’re just suddenly more aware of him than you were before. Which you shouldn’t be. You were already highly aware of him due to your damn dumb crush that’s killing you. Eyes are always lingering on him.

It’s probably because of the scent that’s following you around. It is probably sticking out more than your usual scent, which was. You don’t know. What do you normally smell like? Apparently, it’s something non-distinct since the new smell is pretty overpowering. If you can smell it, it must be strong.

You wish you knew what was going through the man’s head. You couldn’t really ask him. You aren’t close to him like that. Can’t ask the people he is close to either because you aren’t close to them. You kinda just, are here in the mansion teaching. You’re not a part of x-men, you aren’t too interested in fighting anyways. You earned your keep teaching. You are vaguely close to Hank though. Well, in recent events at least. You could ask him?

Yeah, no, you aren’t. You’re going to suffer through this. You can handle it. You don’t need to know what’s going on in his mind.

Which reminds you, you need to actually go talk to Hank. You’ve been putting it off, but the full blooms are startling. Every other coughing fit brings one full bloom. It has only been a week since the first bloom and with the sudden influx of Logan sightings, it is speeding up. You needed an out and fast. Before it kills you.

Thus here you are walking through the mansion to head down to his lab. Quickly avoiding anyone you see. The scent of flowers following you through the halls like a wraith. Leaving a trail of sweetness to waft into the air. Disgusting.

As you make your way into the lab you spot Hank, or Beast? Shit, you don’t even know which one he prefers to be called. You really should ask, huh. Anyway, you spot him.

When the blue-furred man spots you, he quickly greets you with your name: “It is good to see you this fine evening. What do I owe the pleasure? It is not often I see you down here.”

If you could, you would sigh deeply. The rattling of vines stops the motion before it begins. “Hi yeah uh. I got into a delicate situation and I don’t know who else to go to? The doctor I had called can’t really see me and I don’t know what else to do and you’re like… The smartest person I know so I’m hoping… you could help?” The words spill out quickly.

Hank raises an eyebrow and fixes the glasses perched on his face. The man was upside down for some odd reason, and he quickly flipped to land on the ground. With grace you don’t expect for someone his size. Then again, you’ve seen some weird ass mutations. He motions for you to sit down on one of the beds stationed in the lab. One used when needed for situations like this. Medical, scientific, not something you can throw a punch at and fix.

After sitting down on the bed, you start to explain. Words flowing like a waterfall. He is the first person you have gone into detail about your condition. How the petals slip from your lips like a poison, the tightening of your chest with each breath. The fear of losing yourself to unrequited love and dying because of it. You do not mention who it is directed at nor the fact you thought it was a crush and did not deserve to have evolved into such a disease.

The room fell silent after your reveal, a silence that stretched on longer than you would have liked. God, you hope he has an idea about how to help you out of this mess.

“From my knowledge there are only two cures. I assume you already know.” A pause as you answer with a curt nod. “I do not believe there are any other alternatives other than what has been proven to work. I assume that you are here to find out if there are any or that you require the surgery.”

“I can’t tell them… I really had hoped that you would know. I don’t.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, messing it up slightly. It was already a mess from earlier, but you know how hands are in hair. “It’s not an option to tell them.”

“I see. It will take some time, but I will see if I can learn the correct procedure so that there will be minimal to no complications.” Hank pats you on the shoulder and motions for you to head out. He had some things to do and research to go over. Escorting you out of his lab so Hank may do what is necessary. He didn’t give a timeline, but you trust that he can do it before your time is up.

You really hope that he can do this.

After leaving the lab, you had to pass some of the other faculty. Or X-men? Yeah, it seems they are setting off on a mission of some sort. You pass Cyclops, Storm, Jean and. Yeah, that is exactly who you don’t want to see right now. Logan. Seems he is going with them. To, wherever they have to go. You give them all a small nod in acknowledgment as you pass them. Each one provides you a small smile or nods back.

Logan though? He pauses when you pass him. His face contorted into something you weren’t too sure of. He probably caught another whiff of the flowers on you. Great. The others give him a look and he just grunts at them. Somehow they understand and continue on their way. Leaving you with Logan.

A hand grabs your bicep, fingers wrapping around the muscle. Your gaze drops to the hand, in another life you were sure it would be rough with use, but it was surprisingly soft. The grip was not, natural strength hidden behind the hold. A promise that you would not be able to pull away without exerting yourself.

“You’re smellin’ worse. Thought I told you to let up.” A gruff voice, oh how you want to roll in that voice. That was a weird thought, you should probably stop thinking of that like a weirdo. God are you a weirdo?

An awkward laugh bubbles up from your chest. You can feel your own muscles tense under his hold and gaze. Damn he’s never looked at you like this before. A slight glare, crinckled nose, and a slight snarl on his lips. You must be really weird because damn was that kind of a hot look. Which somehow in turn makes your chest tighten and the tickle of a cough is trying to break free. You swallow hard to bite it back. Yet you can feel the petals moving through your throat. 

“Sorry sorry, I guess I overdid it?” You pull your eyes away from his. Unable to continue to look at his face. Be it from your weird thoughts, the tickle in your throat or your inability to keep eye contact with someone. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“You’re hiding that you're sick.” The grip on your arm tightens. Not in a painful manner no, but a reminder that you cannot run away from this conversation. Which is odd right? Why does Logan care? You two hardly know each other. Sure you apparently love the man, but you’re still sure he doesn’t even know your name. You’ve seen him care for others in the mansion, a good friend in an odd way. A father figure and mentor to some of the students. Also in a weird way. You’re sure he’d brush off that idea and say he isn’t. He is.

Wait, he just said you’re sick… “I’m not sick?” 

Logan's eyes narrow as he stares at you. Do you look sick? Sure you’ve gotten a little pale and eating has gotten a little hard so you haven’t been eating as much as you usually do. Does being sick have a smell to it? Fuck that is weird. Well, some animals could tell when others are sick before physical symptoms show. Maybe that's how he knew. No, that wouldn’t make sense because you aren’t really sick. You just have a big fat crush that's killing you. 

You can tell Logan doesn’t believe you. “Just fix it. Can’t stand the smell on you.” His hand lets go and he stalks down the hallway to where the others had walked off to. Your eyes linger on his form as he walks away. The ghost of a feeling on your arm where his hand had wrapped around it. The slight warmth seeping into your skin slowly vanishes. God you’re fucked. 

~~ >:3 ~~

And fucked you are. It’s been at least two months since you told Hank about the hanahaki. Hank is taking his sweet ass time researching the procedure, the doctor you called has called back finally and mentioned that his next opening for a consultation was still months away. Which you decide to say fuck that guy, you trust Hank can do it. The doctor probably won’t even work on a mutant. Logan is still always at the corner of your eye. A scowl or sneer on his face anytime he looks at you. Not to mention the flowers! They’re getting worse.

Full blooms, multiple at a time. Their petals no longer loose around the center. Now they are tightly packed, fully bloomed and speckled with blood as they escape through your throat. Occasionally there would be a flower that had not bloomed yet. Still wrapped tightly, not fully formed. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you’re sure it wasn’t good. At least they were not roses. You feel bad for those who dealt with that. Thorns were something you were happy that was not in the mix of your own flower hell.

The flowers aren’t fully developed yet. Stems have not fallen with them. Yet you are unsure if you would survive long enough to see the end stages of hanahaki. Your body is getting weaker and weaker each day. Your own mutation even fighting against you. You can hardly call on it now. Once you had wished to be a normal person, but that has been years ago. Now you feel like you are losing a part of yourself. These damn flowers truly are killing you. Both physically and emotionally. 

You had to leave class more often. The coughs that tore through your chest made it unbearable to speak long enough to teach an entire class to its completion. Students start to worry, other faculty seem to notice the sudden change as you have to start asking for people to cover your class for you as you rush to the restroom to hug the porcelain throne to exude the flowers of love. Each time more and more petals fall from your lips, tears stain your cheeks more often due to the pain and energy it takes to clear them out from your throat. 

It has gotten to the point where you had to ask someone to cover your class in full, or cancel it. You don’t want to cancel your classes, but at the rate you are going it will be the only thing you can do. Today is probably the last full class you can handle, you feel like shit. Your throat itches, your stomach aches from the lack of food. Your head hurts because of the lack of sleep from the coughing. Yeah, you might have to take a break from it all. What surprises you is that Logan is waiting outside of your classroom.

Ok it’s not that surprising. You’ve been catching him outside your classroom since he came back. It is like he is suddenly more aware of you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you. You would be excited usually, your crush suddenly paying attention to you! How great is that? Yet lately it just makes things feel so much worse. Especially with that sneer on his face. You know he knows something is up, he made it clear two months ago. Though he hasn’t brought it up again. Yet he is always there. Like a shadow. 

Which is honestly a bit uncomfortable. You aren’t used to this amount of attention. 

“You don’t have to stand out here you know?” Papers you needed to grade were in your arms. You may need to take a break, but you should at least grade these papers before someone takes the class over. Your last bit of work. 

Logan just stares at you. The slight glare, the wrinkled nose, the arms crossing making those muscles bulge out of his shirt. You had to quickly drag your eyes away from his arms so you aren’t caught staring. You don’t meet his eyes though. It was too intense. 

“You’re getting worse.” Way to point out the obvious Logan.

“Good observation.” A short pause follows after. Silence falls for a few moments. “I uh, it’s why I’m takin a break. Sick leave? Uh… Yeah…” You really don’t know how to talk to him. The tickle in your throat is back again. Too soon, you just hacked up half your lung just moments before. You really don’t want to cough in front of him. You thought he might already know what it is, but he still thinks the smell on you is perfume. So no way do you want him to know the truth. 

Logan stares at you a few moments longer, a slight grunt. His head motioned for you to follow him. That’s how you read it at least as he starts to walk down the corridor and only pauses to look at you. Looks like you’re following him. This can’t end well can it? 

The two of you walk silently through the corridors. Your arms are still full of papers, but it seems the two of you are heading out into the garden. Probably for the best, the crisp air outside will dull the floral scent. Hopefully at least. Even if it lingers on your skin and it has gotten to the point others have even started to point it out. The halls were mostly empty though at this time. Most students are already off doing their own thing, you can vaguely hear a laughter from down the hall as the two of you finally make your way outside.

Into the garden, the cool air bites at your exposed arms. You should have worn a jacket. Too late for that now it seems. The trees are already turning orange, autumn making its way across the land. Oranges, reds and browns. If you weren’t full of anxiety you would be enjoying the sights. Especially as Logan brings you over to a small bench by the man-made pond. A bit away from everyone, but still close enough to the mansion you can dash inside if needed. 

You take a seat first. The papers sit beside you. Logan stands in front of you. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He isn’t sitting. Why isn’t he sitting?

“So uh…” Your voice comes out first, awkward and a bit unsure. The tickle in your throat grows again as you fight it back.

“It’s not perfume on you is it?” Logan’s gaze never leaves yours, but you can’t help but look away. Too uncomfortable with the eyes boring into you. You never once used perfume, though you did use that as an excuse didn’t you?

Silence followed after. Your eyes looking at the ground as you kick your legs back and forth. Unable to voice the truth. Logan is still looking at you, jaw clenching most likely. You don’t have to look at him to know.

His voice finally cuts through the silence. Apparently he was sick of you beating around the bush and not answering him. Your name on his lips startling you slightly. You honestly thought he didn’t know your name, but it seems you were wrong. “What's makin you so sick that it’s leaving you to look like that and smell like that.”

You should tell him. Tell him. TELL HIM. 

… 

You’ll tell him without actually telling him. You don’t think you’d survive telling him the full truth. You’re a pretty good liar most of the time. He might be able to pick through the lie but he’s not that perceptive right? 

“I uh… It’s.” You feel like you’re stumbling over your words, your throat constricting. “I have.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Your muscles tensing as a cough tears through you. Violently. Your body lurching forward as your hand shoots up to cover your lips as the cough pulls out petals and blossoms alike. Your hand can’t catch all the petals as they spill to the ground. Your eyes clenching shut as tears prickle the corners due to how painful it was. The other hand not covering your mouth grabs at your chest. As if you could claw the roots out through your skin. It burns. 

It burns, it burns, it burns. 

It won’t stop. You can’t stop hacking up the petals. Each cough brings out a sob with it as well. It has never been this bad. The scent of gardenias explodes. It burns your nose. You hate the smell of it. If you survive you’ll never be able to handle this scent again. Your body retching forward as you double over. Body crumpling in on itself as you try desperately to get some air into your already filled lungs. You would think having plants living in your lungs would give you more oxygen. If only it didn’t wrap tightly around your lungs and neighboring organs. Leaving little space for what you truly needed.

You almost forget Logan is there with you. An unexpected presence sits beside you. Warmth seeping into your side. He doesn’t set a comforting hand on your back. Doesn’t say any words. But him sitting beside you is enough comfort. You don’t think you could handle physical touch anyways. Your body would probably jerk harder at it. Hanahaki really was a killing disease wasn’t it. It was going to kill you before even getting to the final stage. You can’t do this.

Slowly the coughing fit lessens. The petals and blooms spilling from your mouth as if it was all you breathed came to a stop. Your body still hunched over, tears filling your eyes as you finally, finally stopped coughing up the damned flowers. You were still shaking, trying to catch the lost breath.

“You’re ok sweetheart. Just try and breathe.” Something large, heavy, warm rests on your upper back. Small soothing circles. He called you sweetheart, that was strange. You don’t expect comfort. You don’t think Logan expected to comfort you like this either. It was an awkward movement, but comforting. You wanted to lean into it, lean into him. You weren’t going to though. Pain was radiating through your chest and you weren’t sure you would be able to sit up straight without coughing again. Fear that any movement will bring on another coughing fit settled inside of you like a vice. You can still feel the slight tickle in your raw throat. 

You taste blood.

It takes a few tries, gasping tries, before air finally was able to fill your lungs enough that you could breathe properly. Or well, as well as you can with roots wrapping around your insides. You pull out a few petals that were still stuck in your mouth and let them fall to the ground as you slowly sit up. Still slightly hunched over but no longer practically hugging your legs. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, blood from your lips smearing across your skin. Eyes on the ground where the mess you made mocks you. There's so much, white and red. White flowers that you would have thought beautiful covered in splotches of your own blood. Tainting the gardenias, tainting the meaning of secret love. Disgusting. You’re disgusting. 

Your eyes linger on the ground as you finally speak. Voice raspy and strained. “Sorry.” 

“Nothin to be sorry about, nasty thing you got. Seen it a few times.” Logan’s voice is gruff, yet there is a touch of something tender in there. Unexpected. You don’t like it. He shouldn’t be treating you like this. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know that you’re like this because of him, because of your dumb crush on him that the world decided was good enough to practically kill you.  

Ok that’s not true. You know under his rough and tough demeanor and the huge, insensitive ass he could be. He’s caring and trustworthy. Loyal as fuck and self-sacrificing. It’s what had drawn you in in the first place. The soft look he’d give to people he cared about when no one was looking. The way he treats the younger mutants. It was heartwarming. Your admiration for him turned from simply looking up to him to wanting him to look at you that way.

Silence falls between the two of you again as you continue to try to take in oxygen. The taste of iron and earth is still on your tongue. The sound of fellow mutants distantly chatting and the occasional bird cuts through the silence. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to tell him who your affliction derives from. You doubt he would ask, but he might. You’ll need to think of an excuse. A lie. Anything to keep him from finding out it is him. He’d reject you. You know this already. You’ve seen him look at others. He doesn’t look at you like that. You just learned he knew your name too! The two of you hardly spoke before. This is the most attention you have ever gotten from him. He doesn’t love you the way the disease needs him to. 

“Who's the asshole?” His words cut through the silence again. Surprising you once more. This definitely is the most words he has ever spoken to you.

“Doesn’t matter… He doesn’t feel the same.” Your throat continued to feel raw. It hurt to speak, but you needed to answer. You couldn’t stay quiet when he asked. Your gaze moves from the ground to glance at him from the side. You try not to meet his eyes but you can see a look on his face that had never been directed towards you. In any other situation you would be happy, ecstatic. Right now though, it makes your stomach tie up in uncomfortable knots. 

A slight hint of anger crosses Logan’s face and his hand just rests on your back, no longer rubbing those soothing circles. You know he wants to know. The look he has on him makes you think he sees you as someone under his protection, it’s nice. Even if it is not really what you want at the moment.

“So you’re willing to die for him.” There was a short pause between his words. His tone is soft, you don’t like it. “Seen most with it die that way. Shouldn’t have to die like that.”

You decide not to reply to the fact that you were willing to die for these feelings. Why? Because you still don’t want to believe it is true. Even with the flowers clearly showing signs the crush was love. Infatuation. You hate this. “Dr. Mccoy is going to perform the surgery for me. Should be any day now.”

You at least hope it will be any day now. You spoke to him a couple days ago and he seemed a bit all over the place so you couldn’t ask him if he was ready yet. You know he hadn’t forgotten, you saw the books laying on one of the tables next to some tools, but time was ticking and it was ticking fast. You know it and now… Now Logan knows it too. You’re on limited time. 

“I… can’t tell him. He doesn’t feel the same, he can’t. I’ll die if I tell him. I have to do the surgery. I’d rather chance not feeling love again than to confess and die. I…” Your hands curl into themselves as you look back down at the flowers. The tightening in your chest squeezes harder. You don’t need to explain yourself, but you feel like you have to. This way you can come to terms with it. Speaking it out loud makes it all too real. “I trust Dr.Mccoy. He won’t fail. He… he can’t.”

“Lotta trust in the guy.” Logan leans back on the bench, his hand lingering on your back removes itself as he crosses his arms. You feel the itch in your throat again, it’s too soon for more petals. You at least hope so. Logan then continues, “Remember watching someone choke on their own blood cause of that shit. Don’t want to see you on that end sweetheart.”

Logan called you sweetheart, again. It made butterflies fly around your stomach, churning with the anxiety already there. It was not the most comfortable of feelings. You weren’t expecting it this time either. It was nice. Would be nicer in better circumstances though. “Thanks Logan, but I’ll survive this. I have to…”

“Still think you should tell me who this asshole is. Could talk to him.” You hear the familiar snikt sound, a clear sign he extended his claws. A glance over was all you needed to confirm he did, the light gleaming off the metal. 

“God no! Sure actions speak louder than words for him, but it wont help.” Because he’d be threatening himself. You couldn’t help but let a pathetic laugh bubble up. Pain radiating through your chest and throat as you do so. At least you can still find some humor in this. Logan’s claws go right back under his skin and between his knuckles at your words. Though you can tell he still seemed interested in using violence against who is causing this for you. God, you wish you could tell him.

The two of you fall into another silence. Your own thoughts are swirling through your head and you’re sure Logan is also dealing with his own thoughts. Your disease is now out there. What truly ales you has been revealed without you actually saying the words. You wished you could have said the words, said what it was, told him your feelings. Though things never work out that way do they. 

You aren’t sure how this was going to end.

Logan looks at you the same time you gaze at him. Your eyes meet his blue ones. You would wax poetic about his eyes, but that seems pretty cliche. Everyone always does when talking about blue eyes, how they look like the ocean, or the sky. Logan’s reminds you of steel, the silvery blue that almost matches the adamantium claws you see on occasion. There is something in those eyes though, something you can’t read. Something behind that wall everyone knows he puts up. You want to dig deeper, fall into those eyes to avoid all your problems. Be free of the pain you can’t escape. The two of you seem to just stare at each other far longer than it felt. 

“Tell me when you get the surgery. I want to be there.” 

“...Okay.”

And just like that, the two of you break eye contact and fall into a silence. A silence only broken by the occasional cough from you and the sounds of nature and other mutants about. You wish you could have experienced this sooner. Before your world decided to crash down on you. You’ll just have to enjoy the time with him like this while you can. Before the feelings you have for him are forever torn away. Leaving only a hollow space in your chest for the fellow mutant. 

You’re not ready. 

~~ :3 !! ~~

Hank Mccoy finally let you know he was ready to do the surgery a few days after your chat with Logan. You weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to lose these feelings, you didn’t want the complications that may follow, but fuck you don’t want to die either. You will die if you don’t do this surgery. You can’t… You have to do this. 

Which is why you are outside of the room Logan usually occupies when he is in the mansion. You've been standing outside of his room for what felt like hours now. You knew he probably could hear your heartbeat, but he isn’t coming out. He asked to be there when you got the surgery. He wanted to support you for some reason. You could just go, leave and get the surgery without telling him. Your anxiety welling up along with the urge to throw up. Your hand is already raised before you could stop yourself and you knock three times.

Silence follows after. The sound of shuffling and the door opens. Logan standing there in one of those slutty little white tank tops and jeans. A classic look that was all too hot in your opinion. Your mouth feels dry as he looks at you.

“I’m getting it now.” You rub your arm, unable to look him in the eyes. You do look at his face though. Just long enough to see shock cross his face for a few seconds, which quickly vanished back behind his usual look. Logan steps out of his room and shuts the door, head tilting to the side a bit as he waits for you to start walking to Hank’s lab. 

The two of you walk silently through the halls. It was late in the afternoon. You could have gotten it earlier in the day but your body was so exhausted from the coughing fit you had that night that you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. In fact you’re still in your pajamas mostly. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. Comfy. You’re going into surgery, you deserve not to dress up for it. Logan doesn’t comment on it either so it’s fine. You’re fine. 

Everything is fine.

The two of you enter the lab quietly. No one else seems to be here but Hank. After all, one else knew. People knew you were sick of course, but you kept a tight lip on what exactly was inflicting you.

Hank greets you with your name. A look of surprise as his eyes drop onto Logan. Quickly he glanced back at you and you just shrugged your shoulders slightly. Letting Hank know the situation. How Logan knew what was wrong with you and wanted to be here with you. Moral support from the emotionally constipated x-men. Well, mostly constipated. 

After going over the procedures and what needed to be done you step behind the curtains, changing into one of those flimsy hospital gowns. The cool air nipping at your skin as you bite your bottom lip. You were scared. You didn’t want this. You couldn’t do this. You can’t do this! You don’t want to lose your feelings for Logan. He just now is starting to show you attention. It’s not fair! You shouldn’t have to deal with this! You can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

“Are you okay?” Hank's voice cuts through your spiral. Eyes watering and your chest heaving. Ohm you were crying. No, you were sobbing again. Your hands are shaking at your side. You glance at the curtain that hid you from the other two. You know they heard you crying, heard you falling apart. How embarrassing. Your hand grips at the gown, bunching it up at your chest as you take a shaky breath. Lungs barely able to hold a full inhale. 

“Yeah… Yeah sorry. I’m ok. I’m ready.” You step out from behind the curtain. Clear concern was on the blue mutant's face. You can’t read the others. You don’t like this. You silently pad over to the table, bed, whatever it is, that is set up for you. Another strained breathe and you sit on the surface. A glance at the two of them and you lay back. You’re surprised the professor wasn’t here to help out. Maybe he wasn’t needed. Hank could handle this on his own. You can handle this. Logan was here, you didn’t want him here, but it was a strange comfort knowing the man you loved was here to support you. Even if said surgery would remove all feelings for him. How poetic. 

You stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do as Hank moves around you. Logan who had been leaning on the wall walks over and takes your hand in his. Holding it as if you would shatter at the softest of touches. You hate it. 

“Offer still stands darlin’. Can make the guy love you back.” Although the words would work well in a teasing tone. There was a hint of seriousness behind it. Like he didn’t want you to go under. To have the gardenias removed from your chest. Your hand squeezes his weakly. You knew you didn’t have much time left. You had to do this or confess. Only one of those was an actual option.

Hank returns and holds up the mask. You lift your head up as he slides it over your mouth and nose. It’s too late. You can feel the tears threatening to fall again. You’re scared. Your grip on Logan’s hand tightens as Hank moves around you, making sure you’re hooked up correctly. Your vision starts to blur slightly. You try to inhale the gas as deeply as you could, it hurt. Your lungs didn’t want to fill, you think you can feel the roots wiggling deeper through your lungs and closer to your heart. Your eyes are on Logan, fear clearly radiating off of you. Your own eyes showing the anxiety inside of you. Logan just stands strong next to you. Like a silent guard. 

As the world starts to blacken around you, the corners of the room vanishing slowly. You couldn’t help yourself. You were getting the surgery. You can say the words now. It won’t matter. Your head was already floating and consciousness was fading. Eyes focusing on Logan, like a tunnel. All you could see was him as the world around you slowly vanished into nothingness.   Three words slipped out of you without much thought.

“I love you.” 

The world shifts and the world goes dark. 

The quiet beeping echos. A steady rhythm that matches the slight pounding in your head. Your eyes slowly open, only to quickly shut again. The lights were a bit too bright and everything was… Numb. Your mouth feels dry and you physically can’t feel anything. Did the surgery go wrong? Why can’t you feel anything? A groan bubbles up from your throat as you force your eyes to open. That’s when you feel it.

You can feel every muscle, every fiber of the blanket covering you. The heaviness in your chest is gone. You take a breath. You can… You can take a breath. Your lungs are fully filled with oxygen. Chest rising higher than it has in months. You can breathe. Your eyes open again, the bright fluorescent lights above you illuminate the room. You tilt your head away from looking up at the ceiling. Eyes moving around the room. Gaze falling on the little monitor you’re hooked up to. The beeping was your heartbeat. Ok. That looked good. 

Your head turns the other direction as you take in another sweet deep breath. Eyes landing on Logan. He was still here, sitting beside your bed, head lolled to the side clearly asleep. Your chest tightens in the familiar feeling you have been dealing with for months. That can’t be right. You shouldn’t still be feeling this longing. You shouldn’t still be feeling the warmth that spreads through you over the fact that he had stayed. You shouldn’t be feeling the soft tug on your heart as you look at him or the soft smile pulling on your lips.

This was wrong. Something was wrong. You raise the arm that wasn’t hooked up to all the devices and set it on your chest. There was pain there, raw and uncomfortable, but there was no bump on your chest to show there was a bandage, no pain pulling at your skin. The pain you felt was all under your skin. This isn’t right, something is wrong. Your chest felt clear but you have no evidence that you underwent the surgery. You force yourself to sit up. Pain shoots down your spine. You groaned in pain and a hand was suddenly pressing down on your shoulder. Forcing you back onto the bed. Logan had gotten up.

“Logan?” Your voice was scratchy. It felt just like the times you coughed up all those flowers when he found out. “What… What’s going on? Why do I…” 

“Yeah it’s me. Lay back down. Can’t have you moving around too much yet.” Logan’s hand was still on your shoulder, a gentle pressure making you lay back down onto the bed. Your eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the look he is giving you. You can’t read him. “Don’t talk too much either. Hank said you got to heal.”

Yet you’re pretty sure you didn’t get the surgery though! You should be dead. You… You told Logan how you felt. How you still feel. Yet the urge to cough is gone. Your chest feeling lighter than it has since before the disease took its hold on your life. That has to mean something. Something happened when you went under. What happened? Why won’t he tell you? Why is he looking at you like that? 

Logan’s hand finally pulled away from your shoulder. He just stares down at you as you stare at him. Silence falls between you two. His hand then slowly moves again. Your eyes darting down to the hand. Slowly his hand goes to push some hair out of your face. The same look he has been giving you for the past few months crosses his face. You still don’t know what it means, but it is making your stomach flip. 

“Glad you didn’t die for a guy like me. World be a lot darker without you in it.” His hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. His hand was soft and warm. The touch a bit too tender for someone like him.

Wait. Wait wait wait. He heard you. He heard what you said before going under. You didn’t go through the surgery yet your chest feels lighter than it should. That could only mean one thing. Your eyes go wide in surprise and your lips part as you go to speak. Pain still itching at your throat.

“You heard me…” Of course he heard you! He was right next to you holding your hand. He has enhanced senses. He heard you confess. He heard you say you loved him. You’re still alive, you still feel for him and you confessed! That has to mean. Your face suddenly lights up. Heat pooling both on your cheeks and in your stomach. There is only one explanation. There is only one way you were able to live and still feel this way. Logan loved you back. That doesn’t make sense though! Before you started smelling like flowers the two of you never spoke to one another. Yet he…

He loved you back.

“Yeah, I did. Could have told me sooner to save you the pain. Told ya I’d make sure the guy felt the same.” His hand leaves your face. He turns to grab the chair he had been sitting in before and pulls it over. The chair legs screeching across the floor making you flinch at the noise. Once the chair was next to you he sat down and took your hand in his again. Once more treating you like glass. Though you appreciate it, you feel like glass right now. 

Logan lifts your hand up to his face, blue eyes staring straight into your own as his lips find your knuckles. Leaving a soft kiss. You were already blushing before, but you swear you feel like you’re on fire. His lips brushing against your knuckles as he speaks once more. You really aren’t used to hearing him speak so much. “Looks like we got a lot to talk about sweetheart.”

You just silently nod, unable to break your gaze from his. Your hand is lowered, your heart beating out of your chest. You are sure he can hear it. You lick your lips, unable to speak a word out of fear you’ll embarrass yourself further. Logan just chuckles slightly, a deep reverberating one. 

“Guess I should say it, not really good with the emotions shit, but I love you too.”

A few blinks and then a small laugh comes out of you. A wince follows after, but the biggest grin spreads on your face. All it took was you almost dying to finally hear those three little words. You’ll never look at gardenias the same again, nor will you be able to stand the sickly sweet smell of a strong floral scent. That doesn’t matter to you though. You obtained something you thought was unattainable. The love of the man you were in love with. The secret love no longer hidden. 

You can now understand the look Logan was giving you. It was the same you had been giving him. You both were in love with each other but were unsure how to go about it. All it took was the flowers that no longer were growing inside of you. 

You finally say the words, more confident than when you went under. “I love you.” 

“Love you too sweetheart.” 

[lethalchiralium]

hii your bio says that requests are open, so, if you don't mind, can i request a simon x reader where reader is also part of the 141 and got severely hurt, and turns out she's pregnant with simon's baby (they are together) but because of her injuries she lost the child? maybe they didn't know that she's pregnant. thank you love💞

hi!! i LOVE this prompt, so sorry it took so long lol

bring heaven down just for you | simon riley x wife!reader

cw: mentions of injury, blood, miscarriages

The car accident was extreme, even for the 141. They weren’t expecting to get T-boned in a city street, trying to make their escape, but it was short lived. You didn’t remember much, being in the backseat with your seatbelt off, on “follower” duty - pistol in hand, watching if anyone was tailing the escape. Price in the driver’s seat, Gaz in passenger, and Soap and Ghost were already at the safe house.

You remembered the car rolling, throwing you around like a ragdoll. Your head slammed against the roof of the car and then darkness took over, at least until you remembered hearing Price’s yelling. The way the straps on your vest were tugged and the blood curdling scream that left you, the explosion of pain in your leg, your shoulder, your abdomen - it woke you up instantly, and adrenaline seemed to kick in ten fold. Barely a glance down and you could see why pulling you wouldn’t be a good idea - so many glass shards in your body, deep red blood bubbled up and trickled out, you felt your body internally gag. You looked to the sound of gunshots, seeing Gaz firing off round after round, and soon silence followed. A slow blink, you found yourself crying out in pain in the street, Price knelt beside you, administering aid as you heard faint sirens. Soon, your eyes closed then opened again, finding yourself being loaded into an ambulance - Gaz and Price covered in blood. Panic surged through you, but so did the pain. A low rumble of pain escaped your chest, Gaz reached forwards and took your right hand - where did you gun go? - and held it gently, saying something you couldn’t quite hear.

A hand settled on your good shoulder, the one opposite to Gaz, you looked to your captain, now able to hear the siren wailing as he spoke, “Who do we need to call for you?”

A breath filled your lungs, only for you to cough and squeal out in pain. A moment more and you were able to grit out, “My husband.”

“What’s his name-“

The ambulance screeched to a halt, the back doors flung open, and your gurney was taken out. The IV in your elbow that was placed while you had passed out now seemed to prickle with pain, one nurse who walked beside your moving gurney drew a vile of blood before taking off, the rest of the medical crew pushed you into what you assumed was a trauma bay. You wouldn’t know, you’re not a medic. You’re just a sergeant, an infiltration specialist.

A doctor came in, placing a plastic bracelet on your wrist as you looked around with a heavy head. Price was with you, Gaz wasn’t… Where’s Soap and Ghost? Will they be here soon?

It felt like only two second passed when the nurse came back to your gurney, she was the one who took your blood. The other nurses still fluttered about, getting you ready for surgery as your captain stayed by your side. She had a somber look in her eye. There was a gentle hand on your shoulder, the good one, you paid no mind to Price - moving it to get his touch off of you. You didn’t want him there, you wanted-

“I have your test results, Miss.” You heard Price take a step back, the pain in your body began to feel fuzzy as the sedatives kicked in from your IV. The nurse stood beside you, holding onto the bed rail and you felt unease bubble into your lungs. In your adrenaline delirious state, you could still make out the look of the nurse’s face - the bearer of bad news. “Are you aware that you are pregnant?”

“I’m not pregnant.” It escaped like a whine, grabbing the nurse’s wrist with what little strength you had, your stomach twitched. “My husband and I have been- been trying for years. I- I can’t be.”

“You are, test confirms it. But we have to take you into surgery now, and I’m unsure if it will be viable after this.”

A growl emitted from your throat, “Save it. Save it. Save my baby. Please.”

There was a grim look on her face, and the doctor beside her. She stepped in, a calm look in her own eye as she spoke, “We’ll do the best we can, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

A hiccup escaped you, pain leaving you and your consciousness slipping away too, “Please. Save my baby.”

The doctor only nodded before she left, and the nurse gave you a somber look before leaving too. You couldn’t even look at your captain, the man you would have always looked to your guidance. But this… This was something you had to navigate alone and with your husband.

You were only awake for a few more moments, the anesthesiologist saying something about needing Price to leave, that you would be out soon. Your eyes grew heavy, you refused to fight it. Giving in meant not having to worry about losing the chance you’ve wanted.

When you woke up, pain encompassed you. A groan escaped you, your eyes opened and scanned the left side of the room, the light above your bed not being able to flood your room with light. It was dark outside, the stars still perched in the sky, your eyes moved right and you could see the dark mass of someone just entering through the door.

“Simon,” You whined his name, tears escaping your eyes in fat globs, your one good hand reaching for him. He was instantly by your side, hand gently moving from strands from your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever for?” He murmured as he pressed his lips to your temple. “You survived. Why would you be-“

Your jaw set, the words spoken like kerosene, meant to burn yourself alive. “I was pregnant.” The raw sob that escaped you made you push your head back, looking your husband in the eye as you sobbed from your injuries and the loss of what could’ve been. “I didn’t- I didn’t know and- and it’s gone.”

Your husband froze, you watched every muscle inside of him contract as he gazed at you. You watched, in such agony, as you husband’s forehead fell to your bandaged one, his warm hands holding your face and his own tears sprung from his face to mix with yours. And all you could hear was what sounded like howling - loud and heavy sobs, ones that would make your body tremble. It was just hard to realize that they were coming from you, you only realized it when Simon’s hand went around to your lower back, trying to move you towards him, trying to hold you in a way that could truly comfort you. It was useless. Useless.

“It’s gonna be okay.” A meaningless saying now. It hasn’t meant a fucking thing since your third miscarriage in your second year of marriage. It hasn’t meant anything since you had to stop counting your losses and began to pretend that your husband wasn’t fucking destroyed that you couldn’t give him the one thing you want to. A family.

How could it be okay when you couldn’t do this one fucking thing that your body was made to do?

“We’ll be okay.” He murmured against your skin, your good hand holding onto his jacket sleeve, your head pounded as the sobs grew louder, turning into wails. As much as it hurt your throat, it hurt more now that after three years since your last one, you had a chance. And it was ripped from you, ripped from your hands before you even had a chance to understand why it had been given to you. A chance to show your husband that you could be good too, that you weren’t like your past either.

“It- It hurt- hurts-“ Was all you could manage, and you felt Simon’s sob shake you, burn you, crucify you. God, this must be Hell for him, because it’s more than Hell for you to think about the pain he’s in.

“I know, my girl, I know it must hurt.”

A zap of pain in your belly and you were crying more, the wails quieting to you begging him for medicine. Tears watered your vision of your Simon as he pressed the call button, brushing your hair back before looking you in the eye again. Even if you couldn’t see too well from the tears and the pain, you could imagine his velvet brown eyes - you could feel his tears as he brushed your hair back over and over, his words rumbled through you like a prayer.

“Our time’ll come soon, baby. And I’m so sorry that it wasn’t now, n’I know that’s gotta hurt so bad.” A kiss and then his cheek was pressed to your hair, you could hear the nurse come in, and more voices enter your room. There was no reason to fight your urge to close your eyes, let the tears fall, and listen to him. “But I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, jus’ like every time before, and any time after. I’ll be here, even if I have to kill a thousand men to get here. I will be here.”

[lurochar]

Loved Potioned (Reversed)

You have been affected by a love potion. But is it really an accident?

Warnings: A little darker than Love Potioned

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

“Vaggie, please calm do–”

Charlie twiddled her fingers nervously, watching as her girlfriend paced the room in clear irritation.

Vaggie snapped her head to look at Charlie. “How can you be so calm at this… this mess?!” She threw her arms up in frustration. “First, Angel Dust smuggles in something we explicitly banned, love potions and aphrodisiacs, and–and now because he ignored that rule, it's turned into… into–!!?”

Vaggie wasn't even sure what to call it.

Charlie let out a weak laugh, looking frustrated, “I know. I saw… them this morning.” Her voice lowered as if she was telling a secret and Vaggie looked up sharply. “I was going to ask if Y/N was feeling any better, if the potion had worn off yet, but Alastor–” Charlie winced at the memory, “I think the only reason he didn't outright kill me for asking that is because it was me.”

Vaggie scowled dangerously, tightening her grip around her spear. “Why is Alastor letting this go on for so long?” She began to pace again as Charlie watched her with a sigh. “Is this just a sick game for Alastor?! Y/N is under the influence of a love potion, I hope that sick bastard is at least above taking advantage of her. I swear, if he asks for her soul…”

Neither saw the dark shape disappear into the shadows…

~♡♡~

“My, my~”

Alastor glanced briefly over at his shadow, acknowledging its return before turning back to your delightful (infatuated) self and found a thrill rise up in him when he saw those heart-shaped pupils of yours staring at him in absolute adoration as you absently played with and stroked his fluffy ears.

As his shadow neared, Alastor settled on his bed and made sure you were nestled comfortably and firmly on his chest before allowing his shadow to report what it heard.

“Really now?” Alastor's brow rose in amusement after his shadow’s chitters stopped. “I suppose it is true I could have stopped this at any point, but how could I possibly do so with such an adorable Darling?”

You looked up at Alastor's face with a dreamy expression. “Can I touch your tail?” 

Alastor's grin widens in surprise as you nuzzle your head under his chin and he purrs. “Quite the naughty Doe, aren't you?” 

His shadow lets out a few more chirps and Alastor's grin turns dark as he ignores your clumsy attempts to take his belt off.

“Why, yes, I do think I'll keep my Darling under the effects of this for a long time to come. I do quite like it. Affectionate, compliant, and obedient, without the trauma of having her soul stolen.”

Alastor rubbed his cheek against the top of your head and you immediately sighed in contentment, squeezing yourself closer to him as you possibly could.

And all because Alastor offered you what you thought was some pink lemonade.

[babyfoxflower]

hi! making a request for alastor x f!reader! maybe where alastor has a nasty jealous side and takes it out on reader????? in a good way of course 👀 just a bit of an idea!

Ooooooo! I love this idea!

Jealousy

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Jealous & Possessive Alastor, Groping, Scratching, Biting, Blood Drinking, Oral (Fem! Receiving), P in V Sex, Cervix Fucking, Creampie, Also a little fluff at the end because I couldn’t help myself

“Well, well, well, looks like someone has a death wish, touching what’s mine,” Alastor’s tone was menacing as he narrowed his eyes at the man who had just briefly brushed against you.

His scleras were turning from red to black, and you knew what that meant. He was about to murder this man. He’s always like this but it gets worse when he drinks. When another man even just glances at you, he becomes a feral animal.

“Alastor, my love, it was just an accident,” you said trying to calm your overly jealous boyfriend.

“Haha, accident? I saw the way this wretch was looking at you from across the bar and now he has the gall to dare to come near you, the Radio Demon’s lady…” Alastor’s antlers were now growing, and you knew that you had to get him out of here before things escalated further.

The man was frozen where he stood.

You took Alastor by the face, “Come on, honey, let’s go home,” you gently whispered into his big fluffy ears, “let’s go home and you can do whatever you want to me, claim me as your own.”

Alastor looked at you and grinned largely and then he turned back to the man who was shaking in his boots, “You get to live this time. But if I ever see again, I’ll fucking tear your soul apart and broadcast your misery for all of Hell to hear. Hahahaha.”

You took Alastor by the hand and led him out of the bar.

All the way back to the hotel, Alastor wouldn’t stop groping you. He squeezed your ass and your tits, and kept kissing up and down your neck. You just let him though because you preferred him like this to when he was slaughtering someone. Plus if you were being honest, it was turning you on and you could feel your panties getting soaked by the minute.

Once you got back to your room, Alastor ripped your dress off of you and pushed you onto the bed. “Tell me, my dear, who do you belong to?”

“You, Alastor. I’m all yours.”

“That’s right, very good,” he said as he cut off your bra with his claws.

He removed his gloves to get a better feel of your mounds, he massaged them with his palms. You let out a little mew.

“Heh, I guess it feels good then?”

You nodded.

“But, I know my darling. I know you prefer pain with your pleasure,” he said before lightly digging his sharp claws into the tops of your breasts over the scars from the previous times.

“Fuck! It stings so good,” you cried out.

He chuckled darkly, before dragging them down to just before your nipples as he knew you had places that you didn’t like to scratched. He pulled his claws out of your tits and watched the beautiful blood start rolling down.

“Looks delicious,” Alastor licked his lips.

He ran his tongue across your chest, lapping up your oh so yummy blood. The sweet taste of iron filled his mouth and he moan profusely. You, yourself couldn’t help but moan and groan. You bucked your hips and rubbed your clothed cunt against his pants tent.

“Could that other man make you feel this good?” He asked.

You shook your head, “No, no only you can make me feel like this, baby!”

“You’re being so good tonight, my pretty pet. Saying all the right things. Letting me have my way with you. That deserves a reward, wouldn’t you agree?”

Before you could answer him, he was already kissing his way down to your belly and from there that special place between your legs. He tore off your panties with his mouth, “Look at that, so wet already, are we?”

You felt that familiar sting as he dragged his claws up your inner thighs. You threw your head back as you enjoyed every last bit of the pleasurable pain that raising through you, sending tingles up your spine. He planted a gentle kiss on your clit, knowing that it would drive you mad.

“Please, Alastor!” You begged.

“Please, what, my dear?”

“Give me oral pleasure, please!”

“Well, you did say the magic word.”

He started off with little kitten licks but that soon turned to long strokes up and down your labia. The lewd wet sounds mixed with your lovely moans filled the room.

Alastor began rubbing circles into your bud of nerves while still keeping his other hand gripped tightly on your thigh. He teased your entrance for what seemed like ages before finally shoving his long inhuman tongue into your weeping puss.

He reached it deep inside of you until he reached that spot. He started spelling the alphabet over it again and again with his tongue until you saw stars. You screamed out as toes curled and you came undone all over his face. He drank up all the juices that poured out of you.

“Tastier than venison and jambalaya combined,” he hissed.

Quickly, he removed his clothing and made you touch your knees to your chest as his forehead touched yours. He eased his thick member that was already dripping precum inside of you. Once your walls adjusted, he started pounding in and out of your cunt. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each hard thrust.

He moaned your name before kissing you passionately. Your lips moved in sync with each others, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste yourself. You could feel yourself coming undone again.

“Bite down on me, darling,” he said exposing the crook of his neck to you.

You obeyed and bit down as hard as could, the sweet taste of iron now filled your mouth.

“Ah! Fuck! It feels so good!” He huffed into your ear.

Your walls clenched down on him as you had your second orgasm. Your eyes rolled back this time and you went momentarily deaf.

His thrusts got faster as he was reaching his climax as well. Soon he went cross eyed and cried out your name as his thick seed filled you up.

Alastor collapsed on top of you. Both of you were panting and drenched in sweat. Once both you came down from your collective highs, you held him as he laid his head on your chest. You stroked his hair and his ears, he looked up at you and smiled softly. His genuine smile.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Alastor.”

You two eventually fell asleep and next morning, he already had your favorite breakfast ready for you.

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

They accidentally hurt you (Part.1)

You're accidentally hurt during a moment of loss of control by your powerful partners

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Bobby Drake, Wade Wilson, Warren Worthington III, Jean Grey & Rogue

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

It happened so fast you barely registered the pain. One minute you were training with Logan in the Danger Room, sparring as usual, the two of you enjoying the playful back-and-forth of dodging each other's hits. Logan was holding back, as he always did, but that wild intensity still gleamed in his eyes—a part of him that would never fully shut off. You loved that about him. But then, in a split second, something shifted. His movements were too fast, too fierce. Before you could react, his claws were out, and the sharp edge caught your arm.

You gasped as a searing pain shot through your body, clutching your arm as you stumbled back. Blood dripped down your skin, the deep cut immediately soaking through your sleeve. For a moment, Logan just stood there, wide-eyed, his breath caught in his throat. The claws retracted instantly, and you saw the horror in his face as he processed what he had done.

“Darlin’… oh God, no. I didn’t mean—” His voice was rough, like gravel, choked with disbelief and panic. He was on you in a second, dropping to his knees beside you and gently taking your arm in his hands, careful not to hurt you further. You winced at the touch, but the pain wasn’t what hurt most. It was the look on Logan’s face—like he had broken something irreplaceable between you.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, though your voice was shaky. “It was an accident.”

But Logan wasn’t hearing it. His hands trembled as he held your arm, his head lowered like he was ashamed to even look at you. “I should’ve been more careful. Damn it, Y/N. I never should’ve… I should’ve known better.”

You reached out with your free hand, cupping his rough, scruffy cheek to make him look at you. “Logan, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to. I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

But the guilt in his eyes didn’t fade. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat back into that place he went when he was ashamed of himself, afraid of losing control. But instead, he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as if drawing strength from you. “I can’t lose you, Y/N,” he muttered. “I can’t… I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”

You smiled softly, despite the throbbing pain in your arm. “You won’t. I’m right here, Logan. Always.”

His eyes opened, and in them, you saw the raw vulnerability that he so rarely let anyone see. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you carefully, protectively. “I’ll fix this,” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make it right.”

And in that moment, as you leaned into his embrace, you knew he would.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

It started as a typical night in the mansion—Remy was showing off as usual, flicking cards across the room with that charming grin of his, teasing you with sly winks. You sat on the couch, amused but unimpressed, knowing his routine far too well by now. But you loved watching him in his element, loved the way his eyes lit up with that mischievous energy whenever he was around you. It was intoxicating.

“Y’know, chérie, if you keep lookin’ at me like that, I might have to take you out for another round of cards.” His voice dripped with playful flirtation as he tossed another charged card into the air.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on the couch. “Remy, you know I always beat you.”

He laughed, and in that moment, he flicked his wrist to toss another card—except this time, something went wrong. Maybe he misjudged the charge, or maybe it was just bad luck, but the card shot towards you too fast, too charged, and before you could react, it exploded with a small burst of kinetic energy right in front of you.

The force knocked you off the couch, sending you tumbling onto the floor with a sharp yelp of pain. Your arm burned where the blast had hit, and you groaned as you tried to sit up, clutching the now-aching limb.

“Y/N!” Remy’s voice was filled with panic as he rushed to your side, dropping to his knees beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure where to touch, as if he was afraid of hurting you more. “Chérie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—God, I didn’t mean to do that.”

You winced, blinking back tears as you pressed a hand to your arm. “It’s okay, Remy… just a little burn. I’ll live.”

But Remy wasn’t having any of it. His normally cocky expression was gone, replaced with genuine worry as he gently helped you sit up. “Let me see,” he said softly, carefully pulling your hand away from the burn on your arm. His fingers were gentle as they inspected the damage, his eyes dark with regret. “Merde, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’d never hurt you, you know that, right?”

You nodded, offering him a small smile despite the pain. “I know. It was an accident.”

But he still looked haunted, his jaw tight as he gingerly cradled your arm. “Still… I should’ve been more careful. Should’ve been payin’ more attention.”

You placed your other hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm. “Remy, really, I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”

He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping with relief, though the guilt still lingered in his eyes. “I don’t deserve you, chérie,” he muttered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re too good to me.”

You chuckled, wincing slightly at the movement. “You better believe it.”

But even as you tried to make light of it, Remy’s hands never left your skin, as if he needed to feel that you were still there, still with him. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what, he would always be there to protect you—even from himself.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

You had always loved watching Kurt move—the way he seemed to dance across the air, teleporting with ease, his body a blur of grace and power. You were training together, and though you weren’t nearly as agile as him, you tried your best to keep up, determined to prove that you could hold your own.

But then, in a blink, Kurt disappeared—teleporting just out of your reach as you swung your fist. You spun around, ready to block him when he reappeared, but you miscalculated, and before you could react, his tail whipped out, striking you in the ribs with more force than he intended.

The air was knocked out of you, and you stumbled back, clutching your side as pain radiated through your body. You gasped for breath, wincing as you sank to the ground, your chest heaving.

“Y/N!” Kurt’s voice was frantic, and in an instant, he was kneeling beside you, his golden eyes wide with panic. “Oh mein Gott, I didn’t mean—are you hurt?”

You couldn’t speak for a moment, too focused on catching your breath, but when you finally looked up at him, you saw the sheer horror on his face. He reached out, his hand trembling as he gently touched your side, where his tail had struck you. “I’m so sorry. I should have been more careful.”

You tried to smile, though the pain made it difficult. “It’s okay, Kurt. You didn’t mean to.”

His brow furrowed, his eyes filled with guilt as he gently helped you sit up. “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as you caught your breath. “I know. It was an accident. I’ll be fine.”

But Kurt shook his head, his tail curling around your waist in a protective gesture. “I should have been more gentle. I forget how strong I am sometimes.”

You chuckled softly, wincing at the pain in your ribs. “I think you forget that you’re not the only one with superpowers.”

He smiled weakly, his hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Ja, but I’m supposed to protect you. Not hurt you.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “You do protect me. Every day.”

Kurt’s golden eyes softened, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I will never let anything happen to you, Y/N. I swear it.”

And as you rested in his embrace, the pain in your ribs forgotten for the moment, you knew that no matter what, Kurt would always be there for you—his love for you stronger than any force in the world.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

The sun had just started to set, casting an orange glow across the grounds of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. You and Scott were outside, sparring as part of your usual training routine. Scott was always serious when it came to training, which you both admired and found frustrating at times. He had such control over his abilities, never letting his optic blasts get out of hand—except today, something was off. He was more intense than usual, perhaps trying to push you to your limits, or maybe his mind was somewhere else.

You dodged a series of his blasts, your body fluid and graceful as you maneuvered across the field. You were teasing him lightly, enjoying the way his focus made him that much more determined. “Come on, Summers, is that all you’ve got?” you called out, your smile playful, though your heart raced with the thrill of the challenge.

Scott’s jaw clenched in response, his visor glowing red as he prepared to shoot another blast. You saw the energy build in his eyes, felt the air shift around you. But something went wrong. The blast was too powerful, larger than any you’d seen him use in training, and before you could react, the beam struck you hard in the chest, sending you flying backward across the field.

The pain hit you instantly, searing through your body as you hit the ground with a force that knocked the wind out of you. You gasped, clutching your chest, the world spinning around you as you tried to process what had just happened. You could barely breathe, the shock and pain overwhelming your senses.

“Y/N!” Scott’s voice was filled with panic, and within moments, he was by your side, falling to his knees as he reached for you. His visor dimmed as he tried to assess the damage, his hands hovering over your body, afraid to touch you in case he hurt you more. “I’m so sorry, I—God, I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

You tried to respond, but the words caught in your throat, a sharp pain running through your chest with every breath. Scott’s eyes were wild with fear behind his visor, his face pale as he gently touched your arm, his fingers trembling.

“I lost control,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You managed to shake your head, your breathing shallow as you tried to reassure him. “I know… it was an accident, Scott.”

But Scott wasn’t listening. His hands moved to your shoulders, carefully pulling you into his arms, cradling you as if you were made of glass. “I should have been more careful. I should have… I could have killed you.”

Tears stung at your eyes, both from the pain and from seeing him like this—so afraid, so broken. You reached up, placing a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “I’m okay,” you whispered, though the words came out weak. “I’m okay, Scott.”

But he shook his head, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he was afraid you would slip away from him. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t… I won’t let anything happen to you again.”

You smiled weakly, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. “You won’t. I’m still here.”

And as he held you close, his heart pounding with fear and love, you knew that Scott would never forgive himself for this, even though you already had. He would spend the rest of his life making sure you were safe, even if it meant holding back from the one thing he feared the most—losing control.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

The battlefield was chaos, metal flying through the air as Erik used his powers to dismantle the enemy’s weapons, tearing through their defenses with a fury that left you breathless. You fought alongside him, your movements sharp and precise as you took down opponent after opponent, the two of you moving like a well-oiled machine. But in the midst of the battle, something went wrong—something that neither of you saw coming.

Erik was focused, his hands outstretched as he bent the metal around him to his will. You were too close, though, too caught up in the fight to notice how close you had drifted to his range of control. Suddenly, a piece of sharp metal flew toward you, faster than you could react. It struck you in the side, tearing through your skin with a force that knocked you to the ground.

The pain was immediate, white-hot and searing through your body as you gasped for air, clutching your side where blood had already begun to pool. You tried to move, but the pain was too much, your vision blurring as you struggled to stay conscious.

“Y/N!” Erik’s voice cut through the noise of battle, filled with a panic you had never heard from him before. In an instant, the metal around you dropped to the ground as he rushed to your side, falling to his knees beside you. His hands hovered over the wound, his face pale as he tried to assess the damage. “Oh, no… no, no, no. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t see you.”

You groaned, the pain making it hard to focus as you looked up at him, his face twisted with guilt and fear. “Erik… I’m fine,” you managed to choke out, though you knew it wasn’t true.

He shook his head, his hands pressing down gently on the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. “This is my fault,” he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. “I should have been more careful. I never should have let you get this close.”

You winced, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “Erik… it was an accident.”

But he wasn’t hearing you. His eyes were dark with regret, his jaw clenched as he tried to control the rising panic in his chest. “No,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should have protected you.”

Tears stung at your eyes as you watched him, the man who had always been so strong, so sure of himself, now broken and afraid. You could see the fear in his eyes, the fear of losing you, of not being able to save you this time. “You did,” you whispered, your voice weak. “You always do.”

He shook his head again, his hands trembling as he continued to press against the wound, his heart pounding in his chest. “I won’t let you die,” he muttered, his voice filled with a desperation you had never heard from him before. “I won’t.”

And as you lay there in his arms, the pain slowly fading away as darkness crept in at the edges of your vision, you knew that Erik would move heaven and earth to save you. But in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, knowing that no matter what happened, you were loved.

Bobby Drake (Iceman)

You and Bobby had always been a team, whether it was on the battlefield or just in life. His easygoing nature balanced out your more serious demeanor, and together, you were unstoppable. Today was no different—you were fighting alongside the X-Men, taking down the latest threat to mutantkind with the precision of a well-practiced team.

But in the heat of battle, accidents happen. Bobby had just formed an ice slide, using it to send an opponent flying across the battlefield when he lost control for just a split second. The slide shifted, sending a sharp shard of ice flying toward you. You didn’t see it coming until it was too late.

The ice struck your leg, cutting deep into the muscle and sending you crashing to the ground with a cry of pain. The cold immediately numbed the area, but the pain was still there, sharp and unrelenting as you clutched your leg, trying to stop the bleeding.

Bobby’s heart stopped the moment he saw you fall. “Y/N!” He was at your side in an instant, his face pale with shock and guilt. His hands hovered over the wound, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts. “I didn’t—God, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

You winced, trying to push through the pain as you looked up at him. “Bobby, it’s okay… just an accident.”

But Bobby wasn’t listening. His hands were shaking as he tried to freeze the wound, slowing the bleeding with his powers. “I should’ve been more careful,” he muttered, his voice thick with guilt. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You groaned, your leg throbbing as the ice numbed the pain. “Bobby, it’s fine. It’s not that bad.”

But Bobby wasn’t convinced. His blue eyes were filled with fear as he carefully wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground with ease. “I’m taking you back to the mansion,” he said firmly, his voice trembling slightly. “We’re getting you patched up.”

You didn’t argue, the pain too much for you to resist as you leaned into his embrace. “Okay,” you whispered, your head resting against his chest as he carried you away from the battlefield.

And as you drifted in and out of consciousness, you could feel the guilt radiating off of him, the fear that he had hurt you, even though you knew it was an accident. But in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, knowing that no matter what happened, Bobby would always be there to protect you.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

You’ve always known that being with Wade came with a certain level of risk. Sure, he was fun, witty, and had a charm that kept you laughing no matter what—but he was also chaotic, reckless, and had an unhealthy obsession with danger. You loved him for all of it. Even the crazy stunts that had your heart in your throat. But this time… things went too far.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Wade had assured you of that when he convinced you to join him. “Come on, babe, it’ll be a piece of cake,” he’d said with a grin. “Just a few bad guys, a few guns, and then we’re out. Easy peasy!”

Of course, nothing with Wade is ever “easy peasy.”

You were both knee-deep in a firefight, bullets flying around you as Wade expertly sliced through enemies with his katanas, making sarcastic comments with every swing. You were holding your own, taking down attackers with precision, trusting Wade to watch your back like always. But as the fight escalated, so did Wade’s recklessness.

He was laughing, spinning through the air with a grenade in hand, yelling something about “making it rain” before tossing it toward a group of enemies. Except… it wasn’t just the enemies in the blast radius.

You saw the grenade land just a few feet away from where you were crouched behind cover. Time seemed to slow as realization hit. The explosion was deafening, the force of it sending you flying backward, crashing hard into the concrete wall behind you. Pain exploded through your body, a sharp, burning sensation spreading from your side where the shrapnel had torn through your skin.

The world around you blurred, the sounds of battle fading as you gasped for breath, clutching your side as blood seeped between your fingers. You could barely move, your limbs heavy, the pain overwhelming every sense.

“Y/N!” Wade’s voice cut through the haze, suddenly filled with panic. Within seconds, he was kneeling beside you, his usual carefree attitude gone, replaced with genuine fear. His hands hovered over you, shaking as he tried to figure out what to do. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit… babe, I… I didn’t… I didn’t mean to—”

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, your chest tightening with every breath. Wade’s face twisted with guilt and fear, his mask pushed up just enough to reveal the raw emotion on his face. He pressed his hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but he was shaking too much to be effective.

“Don’t you die on me, Y/N,” he muttered, his voice trembling. “Don’t you dare. I swear I’ll kill everyone here if you—if you don’t…”

You reached up, managing to brush your fingers against his cheek. “Wade…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “It’s okay…”

“It’s not okay!” Wade shouted, his voice cracking. “I—God, I’m such an idiot! I should’ve been more careful! I never should’ve—”

Tears stung your eyes as you watched him, the man who never took anything seriously, now completely falling apart because of you. You knew he blamed himself, even though you didn’t. It was an accident, a risk that came with being with someone like him. But seeing him like this, so afraid of losing you, broke your heart.

“I’m sorry,” Wade whispered, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You squeezed his hand weakly, managing a small smile through the pain. “I’m still here, Wade.”

And as the world around you faded into darkness, you held onto that small bit of reassurance—that no matter how reckless he was, Wade Wilson loved you more than anything. And he’d fight to the ends of the earth to keep you safe.

Warren Worthington III (Angel)

Flying with Warren had always been one of your favorite things. There was something freeing about soaring through the sky with him, the wind rushing through your hair as you clung to his warm, muscular frame. His wings, beautiful and powerful, were like an extension of him—graceful, protective, and strong.

You trusted Warren implicitly. He’d never let you fall before, always keeping you close to him when you flew together. But today, something went wrong. It was supposed to be just another evening flight, the two of you escaping the chaos of the world below to find solace in the clouds. You had no idea it would end the way it did.

You were high up, the city below you nothing more than a blur of lights. Warren held you close as he flew, his arms wrapped around you, his wings beating rhythmically as you both enjoyed the peaceful moment. But suddenly, there was a shift in the air, and Warren’s hold on you loosened.

You gasped as you felt yourself slip from his grasp, your heart lurching in your chest as you plummeted toward the ground below. The wind roared in your ears, and for a split second, you thought this was it—that you were going to die.

But then Warren was there, his arms catching you just before you hit the ground, his wings flaring out as he desperately tried to slow your fall. You hit the ground hard, pain exploding through your body as you landed awkwardly on your side, your breath knocked out of you. The world spun around you as you groaned in pain, clutching your ribs where the impact had been the worst.

“Y/N!” Warren’s voice was filled with panic as he knelt beside you, his wings folding back as he reached for you. His hands hovered over you, unsure of where to touch without hurting you more. “Oh God, I—are you okay? I didn’t mean to… I lost my grip, I… I’m so sorry.”

You winced, trying to breathe through the pain, but each breath was a struggle. “Warren… I’m okay,” you managed to choke out, though the pain said otherwise.

Warren’s face twisted with guilt, his usually calm and composed demeanor shattered as he looked at you. “No, you’re not,” he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. “I should’ve been more careful. I never should’ve… I almost…”

Tears stung at your eyes as you watched him, the man who always seemed so invincible, now broken and afraid because of what he’d done. You knew he blamed himself, even though you didn’t. It was an accident, something that could’ve happened to anyone. But seeing him like this—so shaken, so vulnerable—made your heart ache.

“I’ve got you,” Warren whispered, his voice trembling as he carefully pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. “I’m not letting go again. I swear.”

You leaned into him, your body aching but your heart full as you listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath you. “I know,” you whispered, closing your eyes as the pain slowly began to fade. “I trust you, Warren.”

And as he held you close, his wings wrapping around you protectively, you knew that no matter what happened, Warren would never let anything hurt you again. Not even himself.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

Being with Jean was like being wrapped in warmth and light, the love you shared radiating between you in ways that went beyond the physical. Her telepathy meant that she always knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling, and that connection made your bond stronger than you ever thought possible.

But sometimes, her powers were unpredictable. Sometimes, when her emotions got the best of her, things would slip.

It had been a stressful day for Jean. The team had just come back from a difficult mission, and you could feel the weight of it bearing down on her. You tried to comfort her, to be there for her like you always were, but Jean was lost in her own head, overwhelmed by the flood of thoughts and emotions around her.

"Jean," you called softly, stepping closer to her as she stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Talk to me."

She didn't respond at first, her eyes closed as she tried to quiet the noise in her mind. You could feel the tension rolling off of her in waves, and you knew something was wrong. Before you could say anything else, though, Jean's eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with the power of the Phoenix that lived within her.

"Y/N, I—" she started, her voice shaking, but before she could finish, a surge of telekinetic energy burst from her, slamming into you without warning.

The force sent you flying across the room, your body colliding hard with the wall before crumpling to the floor. Pain shot through your spine as you gasped for breath, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. Your vision blurred for a moment, the edges darkening as you fought to stay conscious.

"Y/N!" Jean's voice was filled with horror as she rushed to your side, her telekinetic powers immediately pulling you into her arms before you could fall any further. "Oh God, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t—"

You groaned, clutching your side where the pain was the worst, but you forced yourself to look up at her. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and brimming with tears, her hands trembling as she held you.

"Jean…" you whispered, your voice weak as the pain pulsed through you. "It's… it's okay."

She shook her head violently, tears spilling down her cheeks. "No, it's not! I hurt you! I—my powers—I lost control and—" Her voice cracked as she choked back a sob, her grip tightening around you. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to…"

You reached up, brushing your fingers against her cheek. "I know. I know you didn’t mean to."

Jean closed her eyes, her tears falling onto your skin as she leaned into your touch. "I can’t… I can’t lose control like that," she whispered. "I can't risk hurting you. I love you too much…"

You smiled weakly, your thumb gently wiping away her tears. "Jean, I trust you. You’re the strongest person I know. And I know you’d never hurt me on purpose."

She opened her eyes, looking down at you with so much love and pain in her gaze that it made your heart ache. "I’m scared," she admitted, her voice trembling. "What if I can’t control it next time? What if the Phoenix—"

You shook your head, cutting her off. "We’ll figure it out. Together. You don’t have to do this alone, Jean."

Jean let out a shaky breath, her arms wrapping around you protectively as she held you close, her forehead resting against yours. "Thank you," she whispered. "I don’t deserve you."

You smiled, your hand resting against her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath your palm. "Yes, you do. You always have."

Rogue (Anna Marie)

Loving Rogue was like holding a flame in your hands—beautiful, intense, and dangerous. But you had never feared her. Not once. Despite her worries about her powers, despite the distance she tried to put between you for your own safety, you had never doubted that you could make this work. You loved her, and she loved you, and that was all that mattered.

Still, Rogue was always afraid that one day, her powers would get out of control. And today, her fear became reality.

You were in the training room, helping her practice her control, something you did often. It wasn’t an official Danger Room session, just the two of you. Rogue had been getting better, learning to control her skin’s power-draining abilities, learning to hold back. But it was still a work in progress.

You’d been sparring, teasing each other with light-hearted jabs, when it happened. Her glove slipped during a fast block, and her bare hand grazed your wrist.

The sensation was instant. You felt the strength drain from your body, your energy slipping away like water through your fingers. Your knees buckled, and you crumpled to the floor, your vision darkening around the edges. You could hear Rogue’s panicked voice, but it was distant, muffled.

“Y/N!” Her voice cracked as she rushed to your side, pulling her gloves back on with trembling hands. “Oh God, oh God, Ah didn’t mean to! Please, wake up, sugah, please!”

You blinked, the world coming back into focus as the wave of exhaustion began to fade. Rogue knelt beside you, her hands hovering over you but not touching, her green eyes wide with terror.

“Ah hurt ya,” she whispered, her accent thicker than usual, her voice trembling. “Ah didn’t mean to, Ah swear! Ah was bein’ careful, Ah—”

“Rogue…” you croaked, reaching up weakly to grab her wrist. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “No, it’s not okay! Ah coulda killed ya. Ah almost did!”

You struggled to sit up, and Rogue immediately helped you, her hands steady but her eyes full of guilt. “You didn’t,” you said softly. “You didn’t, and that’s what matters.”

Rogue’s lower lip trembled as she looked at you, her usually strong demeanor cracking. “Ah can’t keep riskin’ your life like this. Ah can’t control it, and Ah don’t want to hurt ya again.”

You cupped her cheek, your thumb brushing away a tear. “You’re not going to lose me, Rogue. I’m not afraid of you.”

Her breath hitched, and she leaned into your touch, closing her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Ah love ya too much to lose ya.”

“And I love you too much to leave,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to hers. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

[bubbless-s]

╰⊱ ♡︎ Double love ♡︎ ⊱╮

- ʚɞ synopsis: damian x readers x jon dating headcanons

-ʚɞ warnings: none

-ʚɞ a/n: I noticed there aren’t a lot of fics like this so the job falls on me. (devider)

->Masterlist

„Souls don’t meet by accident.”

⛆ The first thing I need to mention is that someone is bound to get sandwiched during cuddle time.

⛆ Hear me out. Waking up and then getting your cheek kissed in both sides.

⛆ It’s so funny when Damian gets sick because Jon becomes mother hen and you’re like “why does this turn me on?” . If Jon gets sick it’s like “I don’t care If Im sick Im gonna kiss.” And if you’re the one that gets sick its gonna be Damian kissing your forehead to check your temperature and Jon kissing your forehead cuz he can.

Damian: “Stop kissing [reader] you’re gonna make it worse.”

Jon: “Just say you don’t love me anymore.”

⛆ I can just imagine Jon repeatedly kissing you when Damian isn’t looking.

⛆ Movie nights every Friday while being cramped up on a tiny sofa.

⛆ During lazy morning you and Jon end up cuddling while as Damians early bird ahh is making breakfast.

⛆ Jon would give you & Damian gummy bear rings.

“For the loves of my life.” He would say anytime.

⛆ The soft lingering touches in publics because neither of them want to make you and each other uncomfortable.😕

⛆ Damian probably has made a thousand of wedding invitations sketches.

⛆ Forget about the wedding invitations Damian definitely has a poem dedicated to his darlings.

“In their embrace they create heaven raw..” the poem begins you can imagine the rest ;)

⛆ Imagine having a bad day and coming home to Jon pulling you to his lap and Damian hugging you from the front.

⛆ Comforting bubble baths when one of y’all is having a bad day>

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: Next update will post Monday the 23rd , same time and same place! Going to start working on updating my game etc. <3

Transcript under the cut

Siobhan: There you are! Our guest of honor tucked away in the corner. You’re not hiding, are you?

Nancy: I never really liked crowds.

Siobhan: That won’t do, Nancy. Come. Lets chat.

Siobhan: You know, the way you handled Becca the other night is admirable. I wouldn’t have done anything less if it were my man she was pawing after.

Nancy: Listen, I’m not a violent person. I shouldn’t have hit her.

Siobhan: It hardly matters. It’s about respect.

Siobhan: You have the means to be the most powerful woman in the world. Your family runs a multi million dollar company. Your name is on every recognizable building across the globe. Girls like Becca will dream of the day they can write you a check so she can raise her brood of rowdy children in one of your flawlessly designed properties.

Siobhan: You’re a star, Nancy. It’s time you show everyone what it means to be a Landgraab. You can start by becoming a Theta.

Siobhan: By the way, your mother just arrived!

Nancy: Hello Mother.

Queenie: Nancy.

Nancy: Father couldn’t make it?

Queenie: No, I’m afraid he’s tied up in a prior engagement. Besides, I try not to bore him with my personal affairs. [murmurs] How provocative, these pieces.

Queenie: So you’ve made friends with the daughter of an adulterer. Is that what you thought would impress me? Well, at least she’s proactive. Your lack of involvement in any clubs or organizations shows just how lazy you are. It’s almost as if we’ve sent you to university to piss away our money yet again. When will you prove to me that you’re worth half the trouble you put your father and me through? And for the love of God, stop biting your nails! It’s disgusting.

Professor Munch: -right, Nancy?

Nancy: I’m sorry, what was that?

Professor Munch: This model is absolutely stunning! Marvelous, even.

Nancy: R-really? Thank you, Professor.

Professor Munch: Ah! No wonder! Your drawings are very compelling. The way you blend functionality with aesthetics is brillant! A true prodigy!

Professor Munch: I am very proud of you, Nancy. Keep it up.

Nancy: Hi Professor. I know I’m a little early for office hours, but I really wanted your thoughts on my blueprints.

Professor Munch: Nancy! Are you kidding! Anything for my star pupil. Take a seat.

Professor Munch: If I’m being honest, I don’t have much critique.

Nancy: Staying on top of my grades is really important to me. My GPA is 3.7 but I know I can do more to improve. I can do better-

Professor Munch: [huffs affectionately] Nancy! You are my brightest and best student! I’d say it’s in your blood. I haven’t seen such vision and passion in my student’s work since I taught your brother.

Nancy: Nathan was your student?

Professor Munch: Oh, Nathan was my star! In the short time I spent with him, he has shown me what true artistry looks like. That kid had an eye for detail. He always spoke so fondly of his little baby sister, Nan; he’d call you. [sighs] I miss him dearly.

Professor Munch: I thought of quitting and getting back into the field after he passed. I was devastated when I found out about the accident. My partner pushed me to continue teaching. She knew there was nothing I loved more than handing the tools to brillant kids like you and Nathan to shape our future.

Nancy: Partner? [frowns] Your...partner?

Professor Munch: Monica. We were roommates in college and have been stuck to each other like glue since!

Nancy: So, she’s your best friend?

Professor Munch: Oh certainly. My best friend, my muse, my partner.

Nancy: What about your husband?

Professor Munch: Husband?

Nancy: I- sorry. Nevermind.

Professor Munch: Talk to me, dear. What’s on your mind?

Nancy: I guess I don’t understand. You’re wearing a ring but you have no photos of your husband. You seem...close with her, in the photo.

Professor Munch: I was married once. We have three children together. Sweetest man alive. We’re still friends to this day. We both realized that we had our hearts in different places. In the end, I had my Monica. My soulmate.

Nancy: [sobs quietly]

Professor Munch: Oh, no. Nancy? Dear, are you alright?

Professor Munch: [softly] Oh, sweet darling. You’re hurting, aren’t you? Can I hold you? Is that ok?

Nancy: [nods once]

Professor Munch: You let it all out, you hear me? Just let it all out. I got you.

Nancy Narrates: [I wondered what kind of person I’d be had my mother held me like this]

Professor Munch: There’s a small club that I support that meets every Friday in the commons. I think you should stop by.

Nancy: Thank you Professor but, I think I’ve already decided to join a sorority.

Professor Munch: I’ll tell you what, it’s not something you have to join or commit to, but I think there’s something to gain by coming. Plus, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. You two have a lot in common.

Morgan: Holy shit, hey! It’s Nancy Landgraab! Get over here!

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. 1.5 | Spencer Reid x Reader

Okay so, WOW. I am completely blown away by the response to my first fic on here, 120 followers in 6 days are you guys okay? Because I am definitely not :,). While accidents pt. II isnt quite finished just yet (thank you so much for being so patient with me<3 uni is kicking my ass already rip), I thought I'd give you all a small sneak peek, aka the first 800-ish words of the second part. I hope you enjoy and thank you all so so much for the generous feedback so far!! <333 I'll go rewatch my genetics lecture now yippie :,,,,)

here you can read the entire first part, please head the warnings! Same ones apply here. also, if you wanna get tagged in pt. II, let me know in the comments!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

oh spencer, you weren't quite as subtle as you thought. rip my boy. also whooops another cliffhanger? haha my fingers must've slipped my bad

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[ghostbite0]

Hi ghost ::::D I’m gonna use this ask to share my brain rotting for the babynai au

I am very insane about it :’)

• Sanegiyuu cuddling with Obi in between them - need I say more

• Giyuu telling stories about him and Sabito or stories Urokodaki told him to get obi to go to sleep

• Giyuu and obanai making ohagi for sanemi- obi somehow makes a snake shaped one

• Sanemi accidentally calling Giyuu Genya when asking him to help with the baby

• (obi growing up) Family Christmas. All the hashira are invited - mitsuri carried obi under the mistletoe (on accident) and gave him a kiss on the forehead

• Sanegiyuu got trapped under the mistletoe

• All of the hashira using obis puppy eyes to get sanemi to do what they want

• Obanai abuses this when he’s not in baby mode

weee I love them

tumblr user ellioooot-8 this is all canon i say so

these are all so adorable ): oh my gosh … feel free to send more i love love love seeing peoples ideas and its such an honor people love the concept 🥹🥹

obi just looks at them like this

[diyasgarden]

pregnancy 👀❣

Art has always wanted to be a dad, so when you tell him you're pregnant he is ecstatic. He is on google trying to learn everything that he thinks will be helpful for you (from finding something that will help reduce your morning sickness to how to help with your fatigue). He always ends up on subreddit for expecting mothers, and so sometimes his sentences starts like this: "Well Cindy from Ohio said when she was pregnant for the first time...." He shows up to every appointment, and always asks the doctors questions. It ranges from just questions about baby's development to about what is best for you too. Things you probably would have never thought of yourself, but he wants to make sure all your bases are covered. He is also one of those dads who talks to your bump pretty much all of the time. He'll talk about his day mostly, and it's cute sweet to see.

Tashi is a planner. If you're having a child together, you guys have been together for sometime (at least couple of years) and she personally thinks you're both ready to have a child. Of course, she discusses this with you as well, and when you're both on the same page you start IVF treatment. Random donor and you decide that one of you will carry the baby while the other's egg will be used. If she is the carrier you dedicate the entire pregnancy to making sure she has everything she needs. She has pretty bad morning sickness, but you're always there to help her. You'd do pretty much anything she wanted in general, but now especially because she is pregnant. If you're the carrier, than Tashi is there to dote on you. She balances the line between doing what she knows is best for you and the baby, but also what you want. She does tease you for all your weird cravings, but just for fun. Nothing that could ever make you cry (she understands that your hormones are over the place). She finds talking to the bump silly, but she loves playing music for your child.

Patrick has never wanted to be a parent. He isn't sure if he would be good at it, mostly because of his complicated relationship with his own parents. Your pregnancy is a complete accident, but when you decide to keep it you kind of expect Patrick to disappear. But wouldn't that automatically make him like his own parents? If this kid is going to be born, shouldn't he at least try? Sometimes you wonder if he is staying out of some sense of duty, but it's Patrick so that's silly. He wouldn't even be able to explain why he is staying, he just knows it's what he wants. He doesn't really know the whole pregnancy process. He tries his best. He shows up to all of your appointments, even though he looks slightly out of place there. He teases you about your mood changes and cravings, but gets worried when you do anything that seems too strenuous (even if it's something small). He will hold back your hair if you have morning sickness and will come up behind you and hold up your bump to relieve yourself of the weight. He says talking to the bump is silly ("the baby isn't born yet, it can't hear anything"), but you've caught him whispering to it when he thinks you're asleep.

PS: If you like the Patrick HC here...well keep an eye out for a fic I'm working on

[sailorstar9]

F/N's Boyfriend Had a Wedding with His First Love, So She Reconciled with Her First Love

Warning: Anti-Gorou, Anti-Kokomi, Angst, Modern AU

Trigger warning: Cheating

The day F/N's boyfriend's first love was discharged from the hospital, he drove dozens of kilometres to see her and held a small wedding ceremony with her.

Gorou explained, “Kokomi will never be able to walk again. This is her only wish. I couldn't refuse to help her fulfil it.”

“And what about me?” F/N retorted. “What am I supposed to be?”

On stage, F/N's current boyfriend was deeply affectionate with someone else.

Off stage, F/N's ex-boyfriend sneered at her, “F/N, I thought you would be doing so much better after leaving me.”

Kinich, F/N's ex-boyfriend, was standing beside her at that moment, his voice dripping in sarcasm. “So, this is all it comes to.”

F/N was momentarily stunned, pressing her lips together without saying a word. She just stared at the two people in the centre of the hospital lobby.

Gorou knelt on one knee, placing a wedding ring on the bride sitting in the wheelchair.

At that moment, the room erupted in applause. The atmosphere was vibrant and Gorou lifted her veil.

F/N finally saw the star of his show; Gorou's first love, Kokomi.

The crowd began to chant, “Kiss, kiss.”

Kokomi, unable to stand on tiptoe, lifted her head and pouted her lips, looking at Gorou with eyes full of affection.

Perhaps because he remembered her, his girlfriend of just over two years, Gorou hesitated for a few seconds, then finally kissed the side of her face. At that moment, he looked up and saw F/N standing on the outskirts of the crowd, with Kinich hovered by her side.

Gorou was immediately stunned, his expression flustered as he released Kokomi's hand and made to move to chase after F/N. “F/N, I...”

Kokomi quickly grabbed his arm, her eyes tearing as she pleaded, “Gorou, you can't just leave me like this.”

The guests, unaware of their situation, turned their gaze towards F/N and frowned, disapprovingly. “Who's this woman? What's she doing here? She's ruining a perfectly good wedding.”

F/N didn't bother responding, instead she took out a phone and made a call, her eyes fixing on Gorou.

The brown-haired man shook off Kokomi's hand and in front of everyone, took a few steps to stand before F/N. “F/N...” he then glanced at Kinich, his hand clenched in a fist. “Koko had a car accident and she might never walk again. She just wanted someone to help her experience what it's like to be a bride.”

Kinich chuckled lowly and causing Gorou's face to darkened instantly. His arms tensed, vein popping as he looked at F/N with restrained emotion. “F/N, I'm sorry. I messed up. Can you...”

“Madam?” F/N's called went through and her secretary's voice sounded on the other end.

“Anisa, schedule a meeting with the CEO of the Orobashi Group.” F/N put the call on speaker. “I'm quite sure Ms. Sangonomiya will be very interested in hearing about her shameless boyfriend-stealing daughter.”

“At once, Madam.” Anisa ended the call.

“Gorou,” F/N turned to her now ex-boyfriend. “She just wanted someone to help, but why did that someone have to be you?”

Gorou understood F/N's meaning and instinctively took a step forward, wanting to grab her. But as soon as he lifted a leg, Kinich stepped forward, blocking him with his body.

Behind Kinich, F/N made a second phone call, this time to her company's HR Director, “Imatani, have Gorou transferred from Planning to Warehouse.”

“Understood, Madam.” the middle-aged HR Director responded.

Gorou, having heard the conversation, paled. “F/N...”

F/N interrupted him, her tone now indifferent. “Gorou, did you think you could do this and not expect any repercussions? Let's break up.”

Before the words had fully settled, Kinich turned back to look at F/N and grabbed her wrist, pulling her away.

As the pair stepped into the setting sun, they remained silent for a while.

“Kinich....” F/N was the first to break the silence. “It's been a long time.”

Kinich chuckled, his tone indifferent. “You know it's been a long time since we last saw each other?”

“Kinich, it's been six years and you still...” F/N sighed.

Kinich took a few steps closer, standing firmly in front of F/N with an undeniable presence. “F/N.” he raised his hand to touch her face, his thumb pressing gently at the corner of her eye. “You like him that much? You couldn't let him go, so you had to go to his wedding to finally give up. Who knew the CEO of the Hakushin Conglomerate would be so sentimental?”

F/N broke away from Kinich's grasp. “Of course I liked him and we were a good match. Otherwise, I wouldn't be with him. But you, you wouldn't still be hung up on me, would you?”

Upon hearing that, Kinich scoffed, “What makes you think I'd still like you? F/N, don't forget you were the one who asked for the breakup. I haven't forgotten.”

“By the way, why were you at the hospital?” F/N thought to ask.

“My stomach was acting up.” Kinich answered.

F/N clicked her tongue. “Kinich, you really are a spoilt brat. Whatever happened to your fiancée?”

As soon as F/N said that, Kinich pressed his lips together, his expression darkening. “She found someone else and eloped.”

Kinich and F/N were college classmates and also each other's first love. In their early twenties, they loved each other with fiery passion. He came from a good family, had good looks and was capable. Such a person was always the centre of attention. It was like that since college; there were always people pursuing him, getting close to him.

But Kinich rejected them all thoroughly. He never gave anyone a chance to get close to him.

That was the security he gave F/N; he was the one who pushed her forward, holding her hand, standing side by side with her.

At that time, F/N had his clear and unwavering love.

But reality was cruel: it first gave F/N a sweet taste only to slap her hard afterward. For the most cliché of reasons, Kinich's family arranged a fiancée for him. At first, he was against it; arguing fiercely, even running away from home. It seemed that F/N was his entire world. Then, his family came one after another: his mother, his uncle, and others, along with that excellent fiancée they always talked about but F/N never saw. Finally, F/N was threatened by Kinich's mother, the Malipo family matriarch; if she didn't break up with him, it wouldn't just be F/N who was in trouble, but also the people around her.

F/N simply told Kinich that she was tired; that love should be happy and joyful and not a lone fight against the world.

Kinich looked at her in disbelief, saying he wouldn't agree.

F/N reminded him that breaking up didn't need mutual consent.

Kinich begged F/N again and again, asking her to wait a little longer, saying he would sort everything out.

But F/N still left decisively; she still remembered his final words, his gaze cold and harsh, “F/N, I'll make you regret this. I swear.”

Shortly after graduating from college, F/N was brought back into the Hakushin Family main house and formally named as the Hakushin successor.

The sudden ring of F/N's phone broke the silence. She glanced at the screen – it was a call from Gorou.

Kinich's expression darkened further as he coldly mocked. “He still has the nerve to call you?”

Ignoring him, F/N answered the call and Gorou's anxious voice came through, sharp and almost grating. “F/N, where did you go? Please listen to me. I didn't know she asked me to help her with this. I was just confused for a moment. That's why I agreed...”

“Gorou,” F/N interrupted him, glancing at Kinich. “I was very clear when we agreed to try this relationship. We cannot betray each other, even if it's just once, even if it was a moment of confusion. It's irreparable. Let's break up, Gorou.

“F/N, I don't agree.” Gorou insisted.

“Breaking up doesn't need mutual consent.” F/N smiled slightly, repeating the words she once told Kinich. With that, she hung up and blocked Gorou's number.

“It's irreparable?” Kinich echoed. “I didn't sense anything unusual.”

“When someone makes a mistake, they have to face the consequences.” F/N stated matter-of-factly. “Isn't that normal?” as if sensing something was off, she turned to look at Kinich,

His greenish-yellow eyes were locked onto F/N, intense and unwavering and his voice was cold. “But I didn't make a mistake back then. It was some coward who decided to leave me. It was she who let go of me, saying she was tired, that she didn't love me anymore.” as he spoke, Kinich leaned closer, his gaze fixed on F/N. “F/N, tell me, who was really at fault?”

“Let's head over to my place.” F/N offered. “I'll reveal everything there.”

No sooner had she spoken, Kinich's phone rang. As soon as he saw the caller ID, the coldness around him dissipated, his expression softening. “Okay, wait for me there.” he responded. “I'll be right over.” and then he hung up.

When F/N saw Kinich in the conference room several months later, her first thought was 'Fate's mood today is hard to assess.'

As soon as F/N took her seat at the head of the meeting table, the conference room door was violently flung open and F/N looked up to see Gorou.

He didn't look well; his face was pale, his shirt was wrinkled, his chin was shadowed with stubble and dark circles under his eyes indicated he hadn't rested well in a long time. Gorou stared at F/N, his eyes reflecting a light she couldn't quite decipher, causing a sense of foreboding to settle in her chest.

F/N made a gesture to her assistant, but it was too late. Gorou walked briskly towards her, his voice filled with sorrow. “F/N, what did I do wrong that you had to break up with me? We've known each other for almost two years. Don't you know what kind of person I am? What happened that day was just a misunderstanding.”

Facing with Gorou's complete disregard for the situation, F/N suddenly realized she had no idea what kind of person he really was; she had only agreed to date him after six months of him courting her. But she hadn't forgotten how he knelt on one knee to put a ring on his first love's finger.

Suddenly, there was a burst of laughter followed by few sparse claps echoing in the conference room.

F/N turned to face Kinich, his face all of mockery and Gorou's face visibly darkened.

Before he could react, Kinich spoke first. “Your words are quite interesting. I was there that day and saw you kneeling on one knee to propose to someone else. And now you say it was just a moment of confusion?”” he smiled coldly. “You must be very confused to say something so shameless.”

“What did you say...” Gorou snarled.

“Gorou!” F/N cut him off sharply. “We're all adults. We could've handled this with dignity, but you insisted on making it ugly. You want to know why I had to break up with you? I can tell you clearly: because I find it disgusting. My boyfriend proposing to his first love in front of me; that scene makes me sick every time I think of it. I'll say this once: I have no regrets about being with you. But I'm breaking up with you because you made a fundamental mistake. I can't pretend nothing happened.” then, she waved her hand, signalling her assistant to escort Gorou out.

After the meeting, F/N returned to her office and was startled to see Kinich sitting on the visitor's couch.

Without a word, she opened the top drawer of the side table and took out a pack of half-used quadruplet floral tea. Dropping two scoops of mixed dried flowers into the glass teapot, she then proceeded to make the tea for her unexpected guest.

As the scent of lemon verbena emitted through the room, Kinich's phone started ringing urgently. Pulling out his phone, he looked at the caller ID, kept a hand locked on F/N's wrist and took the call. “Say what you need to say.” he put the call on speaker. “If it's nothing important, don't bother me.”

“Why are you snapping at me, pipsqueak?” Xilonen's irritated voice barked. “I was just calling to tell you that the thing you asked me to take care of a few days ago has been resolved...”

Before the person on the other end could finish speaking, Kinich interrupted, “Did you hear that? This is one of my cousins.”

“Your family is really big.” F/N noted, pulling away her hand to pour out the floral tea. “Besides, what does that have to do with me?”

“How could it not be related?” Kinich ended the call. “I have other siblings. If you want to know, I'll tell you everything.”

Dragging her exhausted body, F/N made her way home. But as soon as she stepped out of the elevator, she saw Gorou who was squatting by her door.

When he noticed F/N, he quickly stood up and rushed over, catching her oof guard as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. “F/N... I was wrong. Please don't break up with me. I really know I was wrong. I've already sorted out things with her. I promise it won't happen again. It was all my fault before. I didn't know what came over me.”

“Gorou,” F/N pushed him off. “I'm sorry, but I never loved you from the beginning.”

“Stop...” Gorou sniffled. “F/N, please stop...”

Just then, Kinich arrived and he swung a fist at Gorou before he pulled F/N to his side, a deadly gaze staring at the other man.

As if realizing something, the defeated Gorou let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I get it now. It always has been him.” then he turned and stumbled towards the elevator.

Kinich's attention finally turned to F/N. Reaching into her bag, he took out her keys, unlocked the door and pulled her inside. “You promised you'll tell me everything.” he reminded.

F/N just sighed and walked into her kitchen to bring out a tea set and a pack of half-used sextuplet floral tea.

As the reunited pair sipped the fusion tea, F/N revealed everything; about how Kinichi's mother had laid out her ultimatum.

That night, with the aid of the blood orange infused tea, F/N had a good night's sleep. When she opened her eyes again, Kinich was sitting by the window, gazing at her with a gentle expression.

“Come here.” Kinich reached out a hand and pulled F/N into his arms, before engulfing her lips in an intense kiss.

When they broke apart, F/N felt a cool sensation spread across her fingers. Looking down, she realized Kinich had slipped a silver ring onto her finger.

“F/N,” Kinich whispered, nuzzling her ear. “I want to hold onto you.”

After that day, Kinich and F/N got back together.

When the Hakushin family matriarch, F/N's grandmother found out, her eyes turned red.

Kinich's mother came to see F/N in a rush after she got off work. She was usually a poised, composed and impeccably dressed woman. But now, her hair was dishevelled and she was visibly agitated.

“Why didn't you tell me you are the Hakushin heiress?” the Malipo family matriarch demanded. “If I had known six years ago, I would've...”

“You would've what?” F/N curled her lips in a small smile. “Broken off Kinich's martial contract because the Hakushin family is among the top elite and therefore more influential?”

“Mom, have you ever thought that maybe the reason I was with F/N was not because of her family?” at some point, Kinich had appeared beside F/N.

“Fine.” the elder Malipo woman relented. “My son has grown up.”

A/N: My first Kinich post. Hopefully, he won't dodge me after this.

[sweetimpurity]

i think i speak for alotta Miguel lovers...but we need more blue collar Miguel. Bots AND fics.

🍊 no.2

Whatever you like. Mechanic. Engineer. Construction. Welder. Bricklayer. Tiler.

Could be in a relationship with us or maybe just the guy who comes around.... Oh even a maintenance man. Handy man. Bob the builder. Nah. But we all know we'd love to see him working a car..

Thank you anon for all these wonderful requests! I'm working my way through them and consuming the necessary media to do these justice haha! I love it! 🍊

These bots can all be found on my profile: sweetimpurity on c.ai!

Blue collar husband ೄྀ---ˊˎ-

He’s tired and dirty after work…

He's tired and dirty, sore and achy. Coming home after an insanely long day and walking up the steps to the front door is his last big hill to climb. All he could think about all day was your pretty face. He absolutely hated leaving the bed this morning. Wanted to stay there with you in his arms. But his job is demanding and tough. A different construction sight, more shingles, new bricks to be laid all the time. But he does it all for you. Even more than for himself.

He finally makes it to the door, opening it with his key and stepping in. Relishing in the quiet of the apartment, knowing you're in here somewhere.

"Baby, I'm home..." He calls softly, putting his bag down, peeling his jacket off and the hat he was wearing pretty much all day. "Jesus..." He sighs, seeing the dust covering the brim of the cap, watching it fall off onto the carpet and onto his hands. "I'm filthy..."

Handyman Miguel  :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

He’s come to fix your pipes… 😉

The faucet is leaking again. Of course. Because as soon as you get someone to come fix your radiator, something else would break. With the cabinets under the sink wide open, towels scattered across the floor, the boards under the sink soaked and warped, cleaning supplies and things all scattered across the kitchen floor... you're just waiting for your savior to finally come. The plumber you called in a sort of emergency request to help stop your floor from completely flooding through.

So antsy you wait here. You live alone so there aren't any roommates sharing in your panic. Watching the pipes leak into a pan under the sink, checking it every half hour. Watering your plants on the fire escape with the water that collects. Then instantly putting the pan back under there to collect the water seeping out through the threads of the pipes. Feeling quite helpless.

Finally after this process continued all morning long, there's a knock at the apartment door. You're in the process of bringing the pan back to the sink when you hear it. "Just a second!" You call frantically, putting it down and rushing over to the door. Practically ripping it open. And delivering a long winded explanation of everything that's gone on all day, all in one breath, all in a panic.

The poor handy man stands there, listening to your panicked retelling of all that's gone on. His dark eyes slightly widened, looking down at you from his tall height with soft concern.

Extra! *ೃ༄

Firefighter husband 

Your lifesaver…

"Pa! Pa! Papa!" His little girl squeals, bouncing up and down as he pulls his jacket off and puts his bag down after a long day at the station. Some routine checks and a car accident on the interstate were what made up his day today and he's tired to say the least. But seeing his kids and you makes it all worth it.

"Hey mija..." He grins, picking her up as much as it strains his muscles. Giving her big kisses on her chubby little cheek as she instantly starts telling him all about her day. Soon after, he sees you and the other little ones emerge from the kitchen to greet him at the door. He's grateful for his family after a day like that. To see everyone's faces after the day he had is like heaven.

Kinda went overboard ha! I hope you like them! And if you have any critiques or the links don't work let me know! Love ya! More to come...