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#present continuous tense#action happening in present#present continuous tense table#examples of present continious
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the first time it happens, sukuna doesn't even react.
your daughter, a tiny little thing with a head full of wild hair that looks just like his but with your color, storms up to him while he's adjusting his tie. she's got a determined look on her face, a plastic figurine clutched in her tiny hands—a sonny angel doll, of all things.
"papa, hold," she demands, her chubby fingers working to shove it into the breast pocket of his pristine, custom-made suit. he looks down at her, red eyes blinking slowly. then he looks at you, standing off to the side, barely holding back your laughter.
"what is this?" he asks flatly.
"sonny angel," your daughter says like it's obvious. "he's cute. for you."
you make a choked noise behind your hand, and sukuna exhales through his nose. his baby girl, his tiny menace, is standing there with all the confidence of someone who has never been told 'no' in her life. because, well. she hasn't. so what does he do? he lets her shove the damn thing in his pocket. adjusts it a little so it's sitting neatly, because if he's going to have a tiny cherub-faced baby figurine sticking out of his suit, it's at least going to look intentional.
"happy?" he asks.
his daughter beams at him, gives his pant leg a firm pat like he's done a good job, then scurries off to continue whatever other toddler nonsense she was up to before this. you’re wheezing in the corner.
"don't say a word," he warns, fixing his cuffs.
you grin. "i didn't say anything."
cut to his meeting later that day. sukuna walks in like he owns the place (because he does), radiating his usual aura of dominance and unrelenting authority. his executives are already seated, tense and ready, knowing full well that sukuna does not entertain idiocy. but today? today there is something new. today, nestled neatly in the breast pocket of his three-piece suit, is a tiny, plastic baby figurine wearing a duck hat.
the entire room freezes.
one poor soul, likely new and unaware of how the corporate hierarchy works under sukuna, makes the grave mistake of letting out the faintest, almost imperceptible snort.
sukuna turns his head very slowly.
"who the fuck just laughed?"
silence. absolute, suffocating silence. the man looks down at his notes as if they might save him from impending doom.
sukuna leans back in his chair, tapping a clawed finger against the conference table.
"anyone else got something to say about my sonny angel?"
no one breathes.
good.
he conducts the rest of the meeting as if nothing is out of place, occasionally adjusting the little doll in his pocket like it's just another part of his attire.
by the end of the week, rumors have spread. no one dares to question the sonny angel. entire powerpoint presentations are given with the utmost professionalism while a tiny, smiling cherub peeks out of sukuna’s suit.
by the end of the month, it becomes an unofficial rule of the office. mock the sonny angel? fired. make a comment? fired. even looking at it for too long earns you a pointed glare.
and by the end of the quarter, the entire upper management team has started discreetly wearing their own sonny angels in solidarity. your daughter, completely oblivious to the corporate chaos she has caused, simply continues her toddler life, happy and content in the knowledge that her papa always carries her gift with him.
and sukuna? well. if having a tiny plastic baby in his pocket means seeing his little girl’s delighted grin every morning, then so be it.
#@sukuna#jjk headcanons#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#sukuna headcanons#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#ryomen x reader#ryomen x y/n#ryomen x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#jjk fluff#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen fluff#sukuna fluff#jjk crack
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smitten | spencer reid

spencer reid x bau!reader
summary: when an unsub is killing teenage couples, you and spencer have to go undercover to lure him out.
warnings: mentions of murder and violence, typical criminal minds case, kissing, allusions to a praise kink? (nothing freaky nasty tho), mentions of bugs and eating bugs (sorry.)
wc: 2k
a/n: criticism appreciated since im new to writing (esp x reader fics) pls be nice tho. hope you enjoy!
Spencer wasn't even sure how he got here. He tried to place it, recalling every interaction he's had with you since you joined the BAU, but he still wasn't sure when his crush had started to form.
Crush. He hated that. He hated calling it that because it made him feel like a child, but that's what it was, wasn't it? He was smitten for you.
Maybe, it wasn't one particular moment in which a switch flipped in his brain, and he decided to start imagining how his daily routine would change to include you. Maybe, when he first met you, you planted a tiny seed of curiosity in his heart that slowly grew to consume him.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your voice, "Hey, Doc, I gotta question for you."
His lips twitched into a smile, he loved that you appreciated his endless knowledge. You didn't brush him off like most people did. You listened to his rambles, you enjoyed his fun facts, you asked for more.
"Hm, what's up?" He hummed, stirring another spill of sugar into his coffee to distract himself from your eyes.
"I saw a video the other day of a girl talking about how there's cockroaches in our ground coffee... is that true?" You asked, tilting your head, your eyes locked onto his cup.
"Yes." He answered, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip, causing your nose to scrunch in disgust. He let out a chuckle at your cute expression. "It's not just cockroaches either, it's mostly beetles and weevils."
Your jaw fell slack, "You know this and you drink it?"
His lips pressed into a thin line as he suppressed his amused smile, "It's not uncommon for bug particles to get into most of the food we consume, but they're ultimately undetectable and unharmful. In fact, it's an added source of fiber. In some countries such as Japan, China, Indonesia, Mexico, and more, bugs are commonly enjoyed as a delicacy and appreciated for their nutritious benefits."
You nodded slowly in response to the influx of information. Your eyes locked onto the coffee pot, internally grappling with the prospect of bugs being in the next cup of coffee that you were most definitely still going to drink.
Spencer bit back an amused smile as he watched you struggle, his gaze lingered for a moment too long, before he decided he should probably find his desk again. He settled into his chair and glanced up from his report, watching as you tentatively sipped your freshly made cup of coffee.
Naturally, Derek caught Spencer staring, and couldn't resist the urge to tease, “What's going on between the two of you, lover boy?”
Spencer felt the heat creep up his neck, his shoulder's tensing, “What? Nothing.” He cringed, knowing he was quick to answer.
Derek chuckled, “Oh, really?” He challenged, “How'd you even know who I was talking about then?”
“Ooh,” Emily leaned against Spencer's desk, “Are we talking about Spencer's crush?”
If Spencer's face wasn't red before, it definitely was now. “It's not a crush.” He said adamantly.
“Denial.” Emily hummed, earning a chuckle from Derek. She continued to tease, “You know, JJ and I have a bet going on about this, you wanna get in on that?”
“Can everybody meet in the briefing room? We got a case.”
Spencer's shoulder slumped with relief as JJ rushed past them. It's weird to be relieved by a new case, but the teasing would come to halt, and he could focus on something other than the way your nose scrunched as you drank your coffee.
Everyone gathered around the round table, trading theories and observations as JJ presented the case.
“Unlike the previous murders, Benjamin and Gina both had ligature marks on their wrists, their bodies were also deeper in the desert than our first couple.” JJ zoomed in on the bruised wrists of the corpses displayed across the TV.
“He's escalating,” Derek stated simply.
You nodded in agreement, “Controlling two people at once isn't easy, even with the threat of a weapon. He’s applying what he learned from the first murders.”
“Perfecting his craft.” Rossi hummed, the disgust evident in his voice.
“One thing is for certain,” Hotch started, standing from his seat, “His time between kills is getting shorter, which means he's probably looking for another couple now. Wheels up in 20.”
–
Even as the team ate dinner, it was shitty fast food in the police station and your noses were buried in files. Spencer still stood, staring intently at the map pinned to the board in front of him, his brows knitted tightly together.
“Staring at the board isn't going to make the answer any clearer,” you said, familiar with his expression that crossed his face, “what are you thinking?”
“Tommy and Jane both lived in the south side of town, not far from the dumpsite, but Benjamin lived in the Northside, and Gina lived in the Northeast. Garcia couldn't find any connection between the two couples– different schools, different jobs, different friend groups. So… why these couples? Where is he finding his victims?”
You stopped in your tracks, recalling an earlier interview with the parents. His question struck a realization in you. “If you're 18 with super religious parents, where are you going to makeout with your boyfriend?”
“A makeout spot,” Derek interjected.
Spencer turned to face the team with a quizzical expression, “A makeout spot?”
“Yeah, yeah,” You answered, “Sometimes teenagers find secluded spots where they'll go to makeout or whatever. Then, they tell their friends, who tell their friends, so on and so forth.”
You turned to Hotch with a sense of urgency, “Is JJ still with Gina's friends?”
“I'm calling her now.” Hotch said, already holding the phone to his ear.
Derek’s eyes flickered between you and Spencer, his brow raised, “You realize what this means, right?”
“What?” Spencer asked.
Everyone's attention was on the two of you, you sighed, “It means you and I are going to have to go undercover as a couple.”
Spencer’s eyes widened, and he frantically shook his head, “What? Why- Why us? Why can't you two do it?” He gestured between Derek and Emily.
Emily deadpanned, though a smirk tugged at her lips.
“Come on, you really think Emily and I can pass as teenagers?” Derek asked, before adding, “I mean, I probably could, but Emily definitely can't.”
“Wha- Hey!” Emily slapped his shoulder lightly.
A stern look from Hotch caused four of you to quiet down. He hung up the phone and glanced between you and Spencer, “JJ just sent me the location. Are the two of you up for this?”
“Yes.” You answered quickly, your heart thumping with anticipation. This guy had killed four teenagers, you didn't even have to consider it.
Spencer swallowed, his eyes flickering over each member of the team, all focused on him. He wanted to kiss you, be close to you, but this isn't how he wanted it to go. “Yes,” he sighed.
–
Spencer sat stiffly in the backseat of the beat down car. His ears were tinted pink, and he couldn't even blame it on the wind drifting through the cracked windows–damn, Arizona, and their warm weather.
“Should we um, should we lay down?” He asked, fidgeting with his hands.
“No,” you answered, “we don't want him to find us in any more of a compromising position than we'll already be in.”
Spencer swallowed, and nodded. “So, um…”
“Spencer, relax.” You coaxed, but he couldn't. He was supposed to kiss you, and touch you, and the whole team was listening, and you guys were about to get attacked by a serial killer. Ironically, that last one was the least nerve-wracking.
“Just don't think.” You guided his hands to your waist, “I will do all the kissing and touching, and I'll stay on high-alert. Just… try to relax, and… make sounds.” Even your cheeks grew warm at your last words.
He was about to ask what you meant by make sounds, but he was caught off by your lips pressing against his–well, sort of. You kept your thumb hidden between your mouths, so your lips never completely touched. Spencer was grateful for that, it made the scene feel less intimate.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, Hotch occasionally giving you updates through your ear piece.“We have eyes on someone, but we can't move in until we're sure it's the unsub.”
You sighed, knowing the unsub wouldn't approach until he was sure the two of you were too caught up in each other to notice him.
You moved your head next to Spencer's ear, and his breath hitched at the sensation of your warm breath on his neck.
“This okay?” you asked in a hushed tone.
“Mhm,” He hummed, forcing his shoulders to relax, and willing his head to fall to the side. He understood what you meant by ‘make sounds’ now, because the moment your lips met his neck with wet kisses, a gasp escaped his lips.
“That's good, keep doing that.” you hummed against his neck, his grip on your waist tightened as his mind started to blur. He knew you meant the noise was good because it would convince the unsub, but the praise still caused an embarrassing amount of heat to pool in his stomach.
“Suspect is approaching.” If Aaron's voice through the earpiece wasn't enough to pull him out of the haze, the car door opening, followed by a rush of footsteps definitely was.
Emily's voice rang out, “FBI, you are under arrest for the murder of Thomas Buros, Jane Martin, Gina Amato, and Benjamin Cohen.”
You could still hear Emily reciting the Miranda rights as she pulled the unsub away from the car. Hotch poked his head in, “Are you guys okay?”
“Fine,” Spencer mumbled, his heart still racing from the array of events that unfolded.
You nodded, “Yeah, we're good.”
“We're taking him back to the station. We're not anticipating for him to request a lawyer, so Rossi's going to lead the interrogation. You two are good to head to the hotel for the rest of the night.”
–
Hotch was right, he never requested a lawyer, and it didn't take long for Rossi to get him to confess. The next morning, the team was on a flight back to D.C.
Things had been awkward between you and Spencer. Well, Spencer had been awkward, and the teasing from the team was relentless.
So, you waited. You let him sit as far as possible from you on the jet and you waited until everyone had drifted off into sleep, before finding a spot next to Spencer.
You gently nudged him out of his sleep. He inhaled deeply, and rubbed his eyes as he came to, and his cheeks flushed instantly upon seeing you. He swallowed as he sat up, his pulse began to race, anticipating the conversation he was sure you were going to insist on having.
Instead, you held out a square lollipop, with a scorpion encased in the center of the transparent, red candy.
His brows furrowed, “What? What is that?”
“It's candy,” You smiled, “they had them at the corner store near the hotel, so I got it for you.”
His lips curled into a curious smile as he accepted the candy, and began inspecting it.
“Bugs are commonly enjoyed as delicacies and appreciated for their nutritional benefits.” You echoed back to him a part of your earlier conversation, and he let out a chuckle. Now it made sense.
“Well, I think the uh, candy casing might be a little counterproductive.” He commented, his lips pursing as he suppressed his amused smile, “You didn't get one for yourself?”
“Oh, no. I will have to pass on the uh, scorpion. I prefer my bugs to be undetectable.” You said quickly, earning a laugh from Spencer. His anxiety over the impending conversation seemed to dissipate.
He unwrapped the candy and stuck it in his mouth, causing your nose to wrinkle. Suddenly, he felt like he was right back where he started–his stomach fluttering as you looked at him with an amused gleam in your eye, and his heart swelling as you referenced your earlier conversation. You listened, you remembered, and you thought of him enough to buy him this piece of candy (in his favorite flavor too.)
Yes, he was definitely smitten, but then again, maybe you were too.
#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid smut#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubbler x reader#mgg#mgg x reader#criminal minds fanfiction
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baby assistant at dada’s work (#2 of 2024)

The next morning, Jay found himself adjusting the tiny straps of your daughter’s pastel pink backpack while she stood on tiptoes, trying to peek at the shoes he was tying for her. Her little face lit up with excitement as she realized what the day had in store.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” you teased from the doorway, watching as Jay meticulously ensured every strap, buckle, and sock was perfectly in place.
He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “She’ll be the best assistant this office has ever seen,” he replied confidently. “Right, princess?”
Your daughter beamed, throwing her arms up. “Yes! I help Dada!” she cheered, her enthusiasm infectious.
He chuckled, lifting her into his arms. “Let’s go, then. Don’t let me down, assistant.”
When they arrived at the office, all eyes turned to the sight of the stoic and intimidating Jay walking in with his toddler perched on his hip. Her small hands clung to his shirt, and her curious eyes darted around the sleek, professional environment.
The first stop was the meeting room. Jay set her down on one of the oversized chairs, the leather swallowing her tiny frame. She kicked her feet, clearly enjoying her new throne.
“Dada, what dis?” she asked, pointing at the rows of binders and papers on the table.
“That’s work,” Jay replied, kneeling beside her. “Important stuff. But don’t worry—you don’t have to do any of it. You sit here and look cute.”
She giggled, covering her mouth with her little hands. “I can do dat!” she declared proudly.
The meeting began, and seeing Jay’s daughter in the room instantly softened the tense atmosphere. She sat quietly at first, content with the colouring book he’d brought for her. But halfway through the presentation, she got curious.
“Dada,” she whispered loudly, tugging on his sleeve. “Why dat man talk so much?”
The room went still, a few muffled chuckles escaping from Jay’s usually composed team. Jay glanced down at her, his lips twitching in an effort not to smile. “He’s explaining his work, sweetheart. It’s important.”
She tilted her head, clearly unconvinced. “But… too much words,” she muttered, causing another ripple of quiet laughter.
Jay smoothed a hand over her messy hair, his tone calm and indulgent. “That’s how work is sometimes. Lots of words.”
She scrunched her nose but nodded, returning to her colouring with a serious expression. The rest of the meeting continued with a much lighter atmosphere, the team occasionally glancing at the little girl who had somehow managed to charm their intimidating boss.
Later, at Jay’s, she sat on his desk while he reviewed some documents. She babbled happily about her favourite toys and how she wanted ice cream after work, her tiny feet swinging as she spoke. He nodded along, occasionally adding a “Really?” or “Wow!” as if her stories were the most important updates of his day.
“Dada,” she said suddenly, looking at him wide-eyed. “Do you work every day?”
He looked up from his papers, her question catching him off guard. “I do. Why?”
She frowned her little brow furrowing. “Dat’s too much, Dada. You need pway time.”
He couldn’t help but laugh softly, setting his pen down. “You’re right, princess. I’ll make sure to take more playtime.”
“Pinky pwomise?” she asked, holding up her tiny pinky.
He smiled, hooking his pinky around hers. “Pinky promise.”
By the end of the day, Jay walked into the lobby with his daughter tucked under his arm, her head resting against his shoulder. She was exhausted but happy, her small hands clutching the colouring book filled with her masterpieces.
When you met them at the door, she lifted her head slightly, her sleepy voice bubbling with excitement. “Mama! I helped Dada at work!”
You smiled, brushing her messy hair back. “You did? I bet you were the best assistant ever.”
“She was,” Jay said softly, looking down at her with a warmth in his eyes that only grew when he saw the proud smile on her sleepy face. “The very best.”
#hazelira#enhypen#engene#pov#kpop fanfic#x yn#enhypen comfort#enhypen fluff#jay comfort#jay fluff#baby#toddler#take your child to work day#ceo#enhypen jay#jay drabbles#enhypen drabbles
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Does Menace Danny have a favorite pastime?
Clark is reassigned against his will to cover another story about the Waynes. This time, Perry had to fight tooth and nail to get a exclusive interview with the eldest Wayne child, and if Clark messed it up, he could kiss any dreams of writing on the front page goodbye.
Despite the difficulty in securing it, it was a simple piece. If anything, it was less journalism and more tabloid gossip since the topic of the article was going to be Fenton-Wayne's hobbies and the Meet the Star theme.
Perry wanted Clark to dig further and find out if the young man was willing to give any details away about his new Heir Apparent status or his love life. He didn't fulfill out state it, but Clark could read between the lines.
He wouldn't pry because Clark hated gossip on a good day, and trying to trick a child into giving him gossip to make money off made him down right evil.
Perry was just going to have to be disappointed that Clark was too boring to get his meaning. It helped that Bruce Wayne was unwilling to let any other reporter cover the stroy, so Perry couldn't send one of his less straight lace reporters.
"You're back." The voice is low, nearly a whisper but with a steel that has every hair on Clark's body raise. Its not the sound of someone cowering, but rather someone about to pounce a victim.
He whips around to find Daniel Fenton-Wayne standing in the ajar door, staring at him with a tense bleak set of blue eyes. They don't quite glow, but they stand out in the darkness surrounding the boy and give the impression of spotting a predator waiting to attack in the long grass.
Clark has always been told his eyes were unnaturally blue, thats why he hid them behind such tick glasses design to make him appear as bug eyed as possible.
If people noticed the strangeness of his irises, they would just dismiss it to his glasses, magnifying his eyes.
He almost wants to share the tip with Fenton-Wayne but holds back. "Yes. I'm going to be doing your interview today. It's good to see you again."
"Bruce won't be joining us." The boy states, not moving closer. Half his face is hidden by the shadows, and were Clark a regular human, he wouldn't have been able to make out his moving lips. "It's will be just us."
"If you prefer to have your guardian or another trusted adult present for the interview, I don't mind coming back at a later date." Clark offers instantly watching the boy's face twitch. He attemps a disarming smile, but it only causes Fenton-Wayne's expression to flatter into an impassive one that rings warning bells in Clark's head.
"No. I can handle being alone. Can you?" The boy tilts his head slightly "Follow me."
Clark scrambles after the child, grabbing his bag. He has to pretend to stumble into a low table since the boy hadn't bothered to turn on the lights of the windowless hallway. They go further into Wayne Manor at a brisk fast pace without a word, though. Clark notices Fenton-Wayne glancing at him every once in awhile over his shoulder.
"Bruce said you were going to write about teenager hobbies and wanted to ask me questions about mine," the boy says in that same near whisper speech.
The pair stop before a large door without warning. It stands out for the green fairy lights hung on the doorframes, painting the hallway in an errie glow.
Clark's mind jumps to horror moives, especially with the light disoriented instrumental music playing that he can hear through the thick double doors. Against sense, he grows a little uneasy as Fenton-Wayne's large blue eyes train on his face, looking horrifyingly more blue in the green light the boy is bathed in.
"Um yes thats right." Clark coughs, shifting his feet. "I- what do you do for fun?"
"I make dolls of my classmates." Fenton-Wayne rasps,"and then I set them on fire."
Oh.
" I made one of you." The boy continues hand on the door handle. He starts to turn it slowly, but not once does he remove his gaze from Clark's, pinning him in place with his intense stare. "It can cry."
Oh.
Clark throws a wild look at the door, almost unsure if he wants the boy to open it. "W-why would you make a doll of me?"
Fenton Wayne's smile is more of a baring of teeth as he finally pushes the heavy door open. The wood groans heavily as it swings open, echoing around the sound of Clark's heartbeat in his ears. When it swings open, it reveals an equally dark room, but this one has a projector throwing a spectacular display of the Milky Way swirling on the ceiling.
Drapes were strung all over the room, and small twinkling purple lights were woven behind the clothes of a few, creating a path to a lone circular table in the center.
Unlike the door's green glow, these lights bathe the room in various blues and purples, drawing Clark's eyes to the dolls on the wall-to-wall shelves. They seemed made of yarn, with detailed clothes and sweet little smiles. Clark would almost call them cute if it weren't for the fact that he could see a replica of himself sitting on the shelves and a very telling voice box sewn into it once he activates his e-ray vision.
"Amigurumi," Fenton-Wayne remarks, making his way to the Clark doll. He gently lifts it up from the shelf, stopping to adjust a display next to it.
Clark is horrified to realize that the display is a replica of a class photo, complete with little bleachers and a sign declaring the year and school name. The twenty dolls are organized in the same positions as the life models shown in the frame photo next to them.
"What?"
"It's the type of doll I make—amigurumi. My hobby is crocheting amigurumi figures, and this little guy is you," Fenton-Wayne said, pressing the little button on the box. In an instant, the room fills with weeping interrupted by broken breathing, as if the doll were choking on its tears.
"That's the sound you'll make when I set you on fire for sleeping with my Dad." Fenton-Wayne places the doll on the center table, admiring it like a proud father. He then reaches under the table and pulls out a deck of cards, shuffling them without a care that the Clark-Doll has fallen silent. "I also dabble in cartomancy, with the help of ghost cards. Would you like to learn how you die? I'm hoping it has something to do with flames."
Clark gets his article, but when Perry complains about not having any gossip-worthy material, he slams the sobbing doll on his desk and then leans in to demand time off. His boss grants it the moment Clark starts retelling his fortune-telling session.
Perry also grew uneasy when Clark pressed the play option on his tape recorder, and Fenton-Wayne's raspy whisper blares in the otherwise silent office. "Clockwork's tower upside down, Pandora's box ripped open, and the three of Pariah Dark's artifacts. Do you see the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep? It means you will likely succumb to fatal wounds. Pity, it doesn't look like fire will be the cause. Now I'll never know if the crying audio was close to the real thing."
As Clark heads home to enjoy his paid time off, he wonders again how someone as dizzy and well-meaning as Mr. Wyane could wind up with a creepy little kid like Fenton-Wayne.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#Danny “The Menace” Fenton-Wayne#Clark's pov#Danny has a space room#He crotchet and does fortune-telling#The cards were a gift from Clockwork so they actually work#Danny was playing it up this time cause he really thinks Clark is after Bruce#This is before Dick comes to live with the Waynes#Bruce makes Danny his Heir Apparent
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The Crown (100 followers special!)
Alpha! Rival king x alpha king m! reader
content warnings: bitching, reader gets turned into an omega against his will, noncon turned heavy dubcon, reader isn’t in the right of mind, breeding, dirty talk, degradation, cream pie, knotting, overstimulation, pwp, belly bulge
note: kinda went ham writing this wtf lmfao, anyways enjoy!
The tension in the room was palpable. As the one who wore the crown, your duty was just as heavy as the ornate gems that emboldened it. You were a young and green alpha, barely an adult at the ripe age of 18. Hastily made king, as your many brothers in line and father fell in the decades long battle against the opposing kingdom, your choice didn’t matter. The country needed someone to govern as soon as possible and you as the sole remaining heir was responsible. The whispers and scrutiny of the court didn’t help much either, the weight of responsibility of your decisions over the people and the waging war kept you awake at night, cold sweat dripping from your temples as you could almost hear the cries of your fellow soldiers perishing in battle.
Which took you into the present moment, where a heated debate was taking place of the next action that should be taken for the strife between your country and the rival nation. You sat in the heavy, intricately carved throne that seemed to press down on you, both a symbol of your power and a reminder of the immense responsibility you bore. The room was dimly lit by flickering torches, casting long, uneasy shadows on the stone walls. Around you, the advisors were gathered, their voices a murmur of concern and debate. “Thousand of soldiers have fallen in battle, we can’t take any more losses!” One of the advisors, his name you couldn’t really remember, argued fiercely with a hint of urgency. “The enemy is approaching closer day by day and the people are starving, we must surrender now to avoid total destruction!”
“Surrender?! That would cut off all means of escape! And you can’t possibly guarantee under the rule of the enemy’s rule, our people will be able to live peacefully!” Another advisor shot back, her voice sharp with defiance. Shifting uneasily on the throne, you felt the weight of their expectations bearing down on you. The advisors’ voices clashed, each presenting their case with unwavering conviction. Maps and documents spread out on the table before you seemed to blur as you struggled to focus on the conflicting arguments. Finally, you spoke, fingers drumming nervously on the table as you tried keep a steady tone amid the clamour. “How are you sure that surrender is the only viable option we have to take?” Your voice strained as you fidgeted restlessly.
The first advisor spoke, his gaze was intense, filled with concern. “The enemy’s forces are overwhelming. Continuing to resist will only lead to greater devastation. Surrender is the most rational choice to save lives.”The other advisor leaned closer, her eyes filled with determination. “We have not explored every diplomatic avenue. Surrender might be seen as defeat, but if we negotiate from a position of strength, we could secure better terms.” The room fell into a tense silence as every gaze fell upon you, the choice to surrender or negotiate hung heavily in the air.
However, you chose neither. “I have heard your concerns and arguments,” you began, your voice filled with unusual resolve. “We will not surrender.” Gasps echoed throughout the room as the disapproving gazes began pouring in but you pushed on. “As your king, no matter the outcome in this long war, we will push to the end. If we must fall, let it be with the knowledge that we fought to the last breath for our sovereignty and our principles. We will defend our country with all that we have, even if it means facing doom.” You were exhausted, the war taken its toll on you and you just wanted it to end. “Your majesty! You don’t understand, we-“ “Silence! This is an order from your king. I will now retire to my chambers.” Leaving no room for argument, you slipped away to the privacy and peace of your quarters, away from the shouts and protests of your counsel.
Chucking the heavy crown aside, you sank in your chair with a deep sigh. The flickering candlelight illuminating your weary face, an expression now often seen ever since you took on the role of king a few months ago. Absentmindedly tracing the patterns of the chair, the advisors arguments burst through your mind, doubt and despair both trapping you. God, not even having a moment to yourself was possible in the castle. You seriously needed a break from all the chaos, so you decided to slip out under the cover of night from the castle to the nearby forest, at the very edge of the country’s borders to seek some time to yourself.
As leaves crunched under your every step, the moon cast a gentle silvery glow over your cloaked form. The leaves in the tree branches rustled softly from the occasional breeze, the peace and quiet bringing about a pleasant atmosphere as you trekked through the woods. Arriving at a small clearing where a babbling creek lay, you finally let out an exhale you had been holding. Under the canopy of the stars, and no one around to constantly screech the phrase “Your Majesty!”, the sense of freedom you felt was truly unmatched. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to at least let out your worries, there wasn’t anyone around anyways… “Damn those old farts, it’s not like I even wanted to be king! I can literally see the court eyeing me like a piece of meat every time they argue about the war like I’m some kind of idiot! God, sometimes I wish I was just some simple commoner!” Fueled by your sudden rage, words rushed out your mouth, the confusion and rage you had held in for so long finally let out.
Oh. That actually felt…good. Unfortunately before you could continue, a voice interrupted you, “Your Majesty, are you okay…?” Whipping your head around, you were greeted at a sight of a golden-haired man donned in a commoner’s garb, standing there awkwardly at the entrance of the clearing. Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Well, I …uh…! Sorry, you had to see that… that was pretty embarrassing of me haha…” You rubbed your neck sheepishly, mortified that one of your subjects had seen you so vulnerable. There was a heavy pause as your words hung in the air. The man’s expression softened, and he stepped forward, his tone empathetic. "Your Majesty, we all have our burdens. There’s nothing wrong with sharing your troubles. If you don’t mind sharing some of your problems with this humble subject, I would be happy to listen.”
The man’s unexpected understanding and calm demeanor helped ground you. Word after word, you shared about how you feel, the weight of the crown and its decisions, and the man patiently listened. Hours passed and you learnt the man’s name was Leo and he was an alpha. “Leo, thanks so much for listening to me.” You smiled shyly at him. “Not to mention, you’re really handsome too, I bet a girl or two would be interested in a guy who is as caring and good looking as you. Well too bad, I’m a male, an alpha and the king at that. Alphas can’t really be together.” You joked, failing to catch a brief piercing look that flashed in his eyes before he reverted back to his gentle expression at what you said. “No problem, Your Majesty, the pleasure is all mine.” He bowed. “I am glad you were able to feel better, but I must go. See you around.” Waving at him, you watched as he left the clearing. Weird, you never saw his face before in the servants of the castle…why did he say see you around? Oh well, you brushed it off as you headed back to the castle, it didn’t really matter.
As you approached the castle, you were greeted by the sight of the once-grand fortress, now a dark silhouette against the burning sky, that was surrounded by enemy forces. Smoke billowed from the battlements, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of battle. Panic and despair filled you, as their king where had you been? Shirking your responsibilities and leaving your own subjects vulnerable! Your heart sank as you rushed into the fray of battle where the throne room lay, as multiple corpses of your former subjects lay there, a stifling numbness filled you. Gritting your teeth, you decided to fight to the end and honour your words as their king. Brandishing your sword, you swung at the enemy soldiers, desperately seeking revenge for your fallen subjects. Unfortunately, resistance was futile at this point, most of your soldiers were dead. The enemy soldiers recognised you as the king and immediately incapacitated you. Just before you passed out, you swore you could see a familiar smile on someone approaching you.
“—— needs to be done.” “That’s not——!” You jolt awake to the sharp, discordant murmur of voices. Groggy and disoriented, you struggle to make sense of your surroundings around you. The invasion! Wide awake, you opened your eyes to see the familiar throne room and your wrists bound together as you sat on the throne. Enemy soldiers surrounded the hall as a golden-haired man in regal attire seemed to be having a conversation with someone. Wait. No way. Was it- “Leo!” You blurted out involuntarily. Noticing that you were awake, the man gestured for the other person and the soldiers to leave as he walked in your direction. As he came closer, his cerulean eyes met your shocked gaze, there was no mistaking it. He was Leo, the man you had confided in hours ago.
The kind expression on his face you had seen was now replaced with a taunting smirk, a sharp contrast to his former soothing demeanour. A wave of disbelief washed over you, leaving you momentarily paralysed. Tilting your chin up with his hand, he smiled evilly. “Oh, you naive thing. (Name), you were just pouring your heart out to me as your subjects were ruthlessly slaughtered…you truly are a great king…” An almost psychotic giggle left him as he sneered at you. “I was honestly surprised. I thought you were be more well, less stupid. It’s almost adorable really! To not even do your research about the very king that you were at war with, your innocence was so cute.” Disdain was evident in his tone as he made cruel jab after cruel jab at you.
“Just kill me.” You snarled at him, a fierce defiance radiating as you bared your fangs at him. However, your words seemed to take on the opposite effect of what you wanted as he only cooed at you mockingly. “Now, now, I can’t possibly do that. You were so cute in trusting me, I can’t possibly let you go now!” He grinned with malicious intent, his thoughts unpredictable as you glared at him. “The elders at home have been bothering me about getting a wife lately, and you seem to like me after our first meeting so why not make you my bitch.” He beamed malevolently, making sure to enunciate every word clearly.
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Bitch? Well, you certainly didn’t like that as you let out a guttural growl at that suggestion, your pride as an alpha rising up. “Quiet.” Leo shushed you almost as you were a disobedient child. Grabbing you with almost inhuman strength, you flailed as he hoisted you on his lap with your back facing him. Terror quickly set in as he began sniffing your nape where your scent gland was, his canines lightly grazing it. One bite and it was over. You wouldn’t be an alpha anymore and instead be bound to the very man that slaughtered your people. In a fit of fear, you began frantically struggling as you pleaded with him. “Leo! Please don’t-!” However, it was to no avail as he snorted back with a snarky “No.” He sunk his teeth into your gland, biting down with as much force he could humanly muster. The harsh pain ripping a pained whine from your throat as you scrambled at the air to grip onto anything to ground you. An intense heat began to envelop you, further intensifying your discomfort.
The bite took immediate effect, heat rushing through your veins as you felt your body beginning to change. Agony shot through you as the forced change to your secondary gender was initiated, a relentless wave of pain that refused to ebb. Your once sharp canines that served to give a mating bite shrunk along with your cock, turning into an omega’s tiny cock. Your unused hole began to leak runny slick through your pants, a sign that the bitching had been successful and your first heat as an omega was about to begin. Weakly twitching against Leo, your muscles felt like stone as all your strength was sapped from you. Satisfied with his work, Leo hummed as he licked the bite in satisfaction.
As the pain shifted to an insatiable need to be filled, you unconsciously grinded against the huge tent forming in his pants, seeking reprise from the unfamiliar heat you felt, your slick wetting his crotch. You whimpered, your newly turned body eager to be filled and fucked. Turning you around to face him, Leo tore off your pants impatiently, eager to see the results of his bitching. “Fuck, your dick has really turned into an omega’s useless cock!” He jeered as he thumbed at the slit at the head of your dick, pearly pre-cum forming at the tip. “F-fuck you…” You spat back, struggling to regain your senses in your lust hazed state. He smirked back, his fingers dextrously rubbing your cock in response. “S-stop!” You cried out, the rim of your eyes red. The humiliation of being bitched and getting jerked off was too much. Coupled with the fact you were a virgin, the pleasure immediately began to fill your frayed nerves. With your senses heightened by your heat, you came almost seconds after, the knot in your stomach tightening and breaking as you dirtied your shirt with a loud moan.
Hands moving away from your weeping cock, he spread your rim dripping with slick open. “It’s like a waterfall…” Muttering, he wet his fingers with your slick before slipping in a finger. The calluses on his finger served as delicious stimulation as they rubbed against your sensitive walls, trying to find your prostrate. Biting your lips, you tried to hold your moans in, not letting him have any satisfaction. Your attempts at resistance were once again futile as he quickly found your prostrate and began to abuse it relentlessly, slipping in another finger. Once again, you felt the familiar singsong of ecstasy rush through you as the pressure in your stomach tightened. “Gh! Ngh—no! D-don’t wanna cum again!” You sobbed as he mercilessly grinded away at your prostrate, crying out as cum shot out from your dick for the second time.
His fingers pulled out as he shared a kiss with you, hot tongue twisting and dominating your mouth. Caught up in the kiss, you didn’t notice him freeing his cock which was now circling your hole. The sudden intrusion had you gasping and pulling away as the blunt head of his cock slipped out from your movements. He grunted at you, annoyed as his cock throbbed impatiently. You shook your head at him desperately as your throat was too dry to form words. A sudden gentle expression formed on his face, “Okay, then if you don’t want it, I won’t force it.” He smiled, almost saint-like. You should have felt joy at what he said but only disappointment filled you. Why did you feel disappointed?! The growing emptiness in you made you restless as your instincts cried at you to make your mated alpha put his dick in you deep and knot you.
Conflicted, you stared at him blankly. “Tell me, do you want it or not?” He chuckled carefree, almost as if his cock wasn’t rock hard in front of you. The intense need to be filled overwhelmed your senses, you needed to be bred. Desperation and horniness got the better of you as you as you nodded your head, hole clenching in response. “Use your words.” He scowled in displeasure. Eager to please your alpha, you tossed aside your pride and shame as you uttered a low yes. In a split second, you felt his monstrous cock stretch you open and then white. You had squirted all over him just from penetration. Your mouth gaped as your eyes glazed over, the repeated orgasms leaving you twitching around the fat dick driving into you. “Shit.” He huffed, smug, and gripped your waist as he bounced you up and down his fat dick. “Ah! Ah- ugh!” Whimpers bubbled from your throat as you swore you saw stars from how hard he was thrusting into you, your prostrate kissed again and again. Watching your flesh ripple as his hips snapped against yours, Leo spurred on, your cries exciting him further.
Indescribable satisfaction filled you as he grinded his hips into you, making sure to go deep and bully your sensitive innards, making you pulse around his cock uncontrollably. “You like that, huh.” He growled, voice dropping an octave as he began relentlessly pounding, determined to sate his desire. It didn’t help that he had an incredibly strong stamina, making you orgasm multiple times, your voice too hoarse to even cry out. “Gonna wife you up, put my kids in you.” He groaned, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as the brutal pace of his cock began to stutter and slow down as the base of his dick began to swell. He was going to knot you. Roughly shoving his swelling knot in your hole, the burn and friction against your insides made you mewl in pleasure.
You attempted to move Leo’s hands away, but when that didn’t work, you tried to crawl off the dick destroying your insides. Tears fell from your eyes, your little cock not being able to keep up with the pleasure continuing to wrack his body. He felt you trying to pull away and grabbed you by the base of your throat, pulling his ass flush against his thighs. Leo continued to obliterate your hole, his other hand reaching down to wrap around the tiny dick. He jerked you in time with his thrusts, licking around the scent gland.
“Don’t run from it. Take it like a good little wife.”
Finally, the moment came. The mast of his swollen knot locked you both together as he sheathed himself in to the hilt. You slurred incoherently as he began stuffing you full of his cum, a small bulge forming on your stomach. In a rare moment of reprieve, he gently placed his hands against your distending stomach as waves of cum were pumped into you. Trapped in a tight bear hug, your yowls of ecstasy drowned out his moans as you both came together. Barely conscious from the rough fucking you just had, your head lolled to the side on his shoulder.
Breathing in his scent as your hole hugged his cock, you swore you were going to kill him. A small hoarse “fuck you” left your lips before you drifted off to sleep, eliciting an amused laugh from him.
note: well that was it haha, Leo’s a bitch lol 💀. Tried a more descriptive writing style this time, hope u enjoyed the fic :)
Reblogs are appreciated! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
check out part 2 !
see some headcanons about him!
#bottom male reader#sub male reader#x original character#male reader smut#smut drabble#x male reader#uke male reader#a/b/o#bitching#mlm ns/fw#mlm
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𐔌 ✧.* ꜱɪᴘ ꜱɪᴘ ꜱɪᴘ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ || Getting a call to pick up your drunk boyfriend led to many hugs, kisses and even a secret revealed.
᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, no smut or angst, oneshot, drunk and clingy bkg, dating au, aged up, physical touch galore, jealous bkg, kirishima mentioned, highschool sweethearts, he’s just a lil guy, 1.1k word count
The intense smell of alcohol and fried japanese cuisine infiltrates her nostrils – increasing the worry she already felt prior to her arrival – nonetheless she smiles, saying her quick hello's to those still present.
"Hey bakubro, look alive! Y/N is here!"
Her gaze softens as she approaches the duo, sighing with relief as she sees the blonde seated down with a noticeable aloof expression – though short lived – given that his head perks up at the mention of her name.
"....y/n? where?"
The unusual quiet tone makes her heart race, the way he lazily scans the area – too drunk to notice she's standing only a few steps away – only causes a giggle to escape her.
He frowns at Kirishima, sending a weak glare his way.
"don't lie to me, shitty hair..."
The red head could only sheepishly smile at him – taking a note that his friend is too far gone – standing up and patting y/n's shoulder as he walks by, going over to make sure the others are okay to get home.
But not before adding an encouraging remark, shining a toothy grin towards her as he steps aside.
"He's all yours y/n! good luck!"
She nods at him and looks back at the blonde – who's resting his head on the table, obeying the feeling of exhaustion – having to hold the urge to take a photo of the adorable scene.
With deliberate quiet steps, she leans against the table, soothingly rubbing his back.
"Katsuki?"
He tenses and immediately picks his head up – lifting his hand to shove hers away – but pauses as he seems to recognize her, squinting hard, clearly struggling.
She smiles and leans closer for him, knowing he must've drank a lot for the guy to be so out of it.
"Hi 'suki, it's y/n, c'mon i'm here to bring you back home."
At her reassurance, his earlier defensive stance seemed to relax – his eyes practically oozing with infatuation – a lopsided smile slowly appearing on his face.
An unfamiliar yet welcoming sight.
His arms reach out to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer with longing and adoration – earning a surprised gasp from her – his gaze roaming across her facial features, as if trying to wrap his head around her beauty.
"you're here.."
The joy in his voice is evident – so unlike the grumpy blonde that she knows and loves – she doesn't particularly mind this version of him though.
It's cute.
"Kirishima called and said you drank a little too much, so I came to your rescue."
He frowns immediately – earning a curious look from her and raised brows – halting in her movements when he buries his face against her stomach.
She softly hums as her fingers reach down to gently play with the spiky locks, the soft texture felt beneath her fingertips as she scratches his scalp.
"What's wrong?"
The grip around her waist only tightens as he grumbles.
"don't talk about him..."
Her eyes crinkle with amusement, softly giggling at the ticklish sensation – the combination of his hair and the jealous words spoken against her torso, made her prone to laughter – he was an open book whenever given a few drinks in his system.
She'll keep that in mind for next time.
"Don't be so jealous Katsuki, I'm dating you, remember?"
He huffs and picks his head up, looking straight at her with determination.
"Just focus on me."
She rolls her eyes playfully, resting her arms around his neck as he continues clinging to her.
"Whatever you say-"
A small whine escapes the girl as his hands position her to sit on his lap, taking the opportunity to cradle her face and squish her cheeks.
The yearning in his eyes makes her chest tighten involuntarily, feeling a bit shy at his display of such fondness.
"...'m in love with you... you know?"
Of course she knew he loved her.
But the way he's so straight forward when he usually isn't as vocal with his affection is just... different.
It made her feel like a blushing school girl all over again.
"yes i know kats, i love you too."
Apparently the smile and words weren't enough for him, cause he didn't let go of her face, drunkenly holding it with tenderness.
Honestly, no one wouldn't believe her if she told this story many years from now.
The way he adoringly smiles, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead – which turned into multiple kisses across her face – simply left her feeling breathless.
As if she, herself, had been infected by his intoxication.
"So pretty..."
Y/N gently removes his hands – attempting to regain some of her composure, after he made her all flustered – and opens her palm in his direction with a laugh.
“Thank you ‘suki, but can I get your car keys? I gotta drive you home 'mkay?"
"oh.... 'kay..."
His left hand fumbles around his pocket – the other having a steady place around her back to keep her up – the sounds of metal clinging together echoing from the action.
She takes the set of keys, noticing the framed – and now signed – all might card dangling from the set, a smile resurfacing on her face.
But her brows furrow when she sees another attachment on the keys.
A small photo keychain of them, a picture from their yearbook when they were in UA, both smiling at each other, not suspecting anyone snapped a pic.
She remembered the shock on both of their faces when they opened the collage of memories, the photo printed out in the array of funny class photos.
The blonde must've cut it out and framed it.
Her heart jumps at the realization, a warm feeling bubbling within her chest – she never took katsuki to wear an accessory like this – maybe she'll buy him a charm to add to the assortment of trinkets.
"...'m sleepy"
Y/N smiles – feeling extra giddy now, as she stands up from his lap – helping him to place his arm around her shoulder, walking out of the restaurant in unison.
As she buckles his seatbelt on, she couldn't help but to mention her discovery.
"Hey katsuki... I didn't know you had that photo of us on your keychain."
His red eyes are half lidded with drowsiness, but it doesn't stop him from speaking in a mumble before succumbing to sleep.
"...that photo is special."
She yearns for him to elaborate but refrains from waking him up, instead putting the car in drive towards his apartment, she'll just ask him tomorrow.
What she didn't know at the time, is the significance of the photo.
Back then, he was irritated at whoever snapped that shot, but Katsuki could only be grateful now.
It was taken on the exact day he realized he fell in love with her – now a personal time capsule he could look back on whenever he wanted to reminisce – the reminder of that, making him sleep for the rest of the car ride home with a smile.
And yes, she did snap a pic of him snoring.
Maybe it’ll be on her keychain.
✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚。⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚。⋆⎯⎯ ✦
a/n ||| I have this problem where - whenever I finish writing a fic, I immediately post it after - when I SHOULD wait until the late afternoon/night bc I think u guys are more active then? I think? I don’t have a posting schedule sooooo… please answer the poll so I can know when it’s better to post for u guys 🫶🏼
tags ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 @qyuin ໒꒰ྀི ´๑ ̫๑` ꒱ྀིა
#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x female reader#katsuki bakugo x y/n#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x female reader#katsuki bakugou x you#bakugou x fem!reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki x you#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugo fluff#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha x reader#mha x female reader#mha x y/n#mha x you#katsuki bakugo mha#bnha x y/n#bnha x fem!reader
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she wants me
(sevika x fem!reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns for reader, praise, fingering, cunnilingus, softdom!sevika, sub!reader, bottom!reader, exhibitionism? not beta/proof read!) men, minors dni
your painfully annoying ex-boyfriend shows up to cause problems. sevika shows him exactly what he lost.

Your ex was persistent. Like… persistent– to the point of it being utterly overbearing. Your shabby apartment was no longer a safe place to stay at, as he would randomly show up at any and all odd hours he could find. Thus, one of your closest friends, Sevika, has offered you temporary relief in her own home.
Your friendship began almost three years ago when you began serving at The Last Drop, her attention was immediately drawn to how disgustingly nice you were. While she brushed off your kind words and attempts at friendship initially, she grew fond of you over time.
Presently, It’s been almost two months since you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. The man was absolutely obsessed with you. He was a manipulative, ugly, greedy little sump-rat who refused to leave you alone. While Sevika had no issues with putting him into the ground for his constant awful behavior, you and your tender heart continued to tell her off.
In an attempt to pull you out of your own festering anxieties, Sevika drags you out to The Last Drop, trying to brighten your mood from the traumatic relationship.
Now, you’re sitting next to her as she deals out the stack of playing cards to the men at the circular table. You’re dressed in some torn tights, small shorts, a cropped vest with a tattered t-shirt beneath it, accompanied by chunky boots. One leg is crossed over the other as you silently nurse your drink, peeking over at Sevika’s cards. You had never been someone who enjoys cards much, and playing against Sevika would’ve been a losing game anyway.
There are never really any good nights in Zaun, there’s always the underlying anxiety of ‘maybe today is the day we all get raided and killed.’ So, tonight is going just about as well as it could, realistically. Sevika is winning (as per usual) and you feel slightly at peace, grateful for the fact that she had drawn you out of your blanket-filled cocoon inside of her house.
Another deck is shuffled out, more shots are thrown back, and you finally feel a little less tense. Not drunk– it was never something you particularly enjoyed, but it was enough for you to drop your shoulders from your ears and slump back against the booth.
“My little good luck charm, hm?” She mumbles, smirking at you as she rifles through the coins that were begrudgingly slid over to her. You roll your eyes playfully in retaliation, smiling softly and finishing off the last little bit of your drink.
She leans down to press her full lips to your neck, grinning as you gasp. She keeps her strong arm around you as she places a few more chaste kisses, finalizing her ministrations with a sharp nip to the edge of your jaw. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.
You move your eyes from her, to the table, and then to the crowd, absorbing the scene of Zaun’s nightlife growing. In the group of bodies dancing and bustling you spot the very last thing you wanted to see: Your ex-boyfriend. Staring directly at you.
“Sev,” you gasp quietly, which immediately snatches her attention. She looks at you first, then follows your gaze over to the crowd– immediately landing on him. Her face twists into a deep snarl as she catches his gaze.
She slams her cards down and abruptly stands up, “Everyone, out!” she growls. In return, several patrons immediately scurry out, and the rest sit in fear. “I said go, now!” she adds, which eventually forces the rest of them out.
Quick minutes pass by and you’re left stuck in the bar with Sevika and your ex. “Sevika, can we please just leave,” you huff out, standing up next to her.
“Sit your ass back down,” she hisses, pushing your shoulder gently. Rather than arguing with her as you normally would, you concede this time. You huff out annoyedly before plopping back down, knocking your boot against the base of the table.
She steps over you, placing a large hand on the back of your head as she does so— a fleeting, comforting touch. “Sev, seriously,” you repeat irritably, reaching for the tail of her cloak. She swats your hand away before silently moving forward, slowly treading towards the man in the center of the room.
“What do you want?” She snaps, crossing her arms over her chest as she stops in front of him. She stands over him, forcing him to crane his head up if he wants a half decent look at her.
Puffing his chest out, he responds with a short, “I just wanna talk to her,” and nods towards you. Irritation flares in your chest at his words and Sevika scoffs bitterly. “She doesn’t wanna talk. You dense?” she mocks back, sending you a brief glance.
“I think we should just go,” you say, attempting to dismiss the situation before it gets out of hand. She raises a hand at you, a silent gesture to stop talking before you make her mood even worse.
You quickly snap your jaw shut, huffing in defeat as she reverts her attention back to the fuming man less than fifteen from you. The very same man who nearly ruined your life for two, excruciatingly long years. You clench your jaw and train your gaze on the seemingly very interesting scotch glass in front of you.
You drum your nails against the table anxiously, overhearing a “fuck you, she’s a stupid sleazy whore anyway,” from the skrunkly-faced man. This causes her to seethe, and you barely register the movement before her metal claws are wrapped tightly around his throat.
“She’s a what?” She questions nastily, pulling him in. “She’s nothing but a piece of ass,” he tacks on, attempting to keep up the tough bravado he is rapidly losing. As her grip tightens, he attempts to stammer out an apology but all she does is shake her head and pout mockingly at him.
The words settle harshly in your chest, causing you to shift in the booth uncomfortably.
She flings his body to the ground, stepping on his back to keep his body pressed into hard flooring. She crouches down unevenly and leans in next to his ear, “you’re better off keeping your mouth shut for the rest of the night.” She hisses, lifting her foot off of him.
And the poor, unbelievably stupid man opens his mouth again. “I’m surprised you still keep her around. She’s grown boring— dry.” He spits out venomously.
You snap your head over towards them, feeling the shame morph into a different form of anger. You watch Sevika narrow her eyes at him before she scoffs bitterly and raises her foot up again. This time, her foot meets his jaw, and you hear a crack, and the yelp he lets out.
She straightens herself back up and rolls out her neck and shoulders, smirking down at his tattered form. She turns back towards your startled and half-ass trembling form, and her face softens into something more tender.
The man attempts to push himself back up, but she quickly turns around and swipes his hands from beneath him, causing him to crash back into the ground.
“Stay the fuck down.” She says, punctuating her sentence with another jab to his ribs. He shakes beneath her cruel eyes, giving her a sheepish nod.
You really shouldn’t feel the familiar heat pool between your legs while you watch her, but it’s so hard when she just looks so fucking good. All big muscles, broad shoulders, scarred and tanned skin. She’s like a walking goddess— one you would dutifully worship if given the chance to.
She walks back towards you and reaches over to grab the still half-full glass of hers on the table. She knocks it back quickly and clears her throat after, finally looking back down at you.
“You okay, baby?” She inquires sweetly, tilting your chin up with the side of her index finger.
You nod in response, still shocked into silence as you watched the scene unfold.
“You don’t believe him, do you?” She asks you, stroking her thumb over the bridge of your nose, and then over your cheekbone. You look away shamefully, knowing that you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the guilty pit that forms in your stomach.
“Oh, pretty girl— you truly don’t see how wrong he is?” She asks, giving you a sympathetic look.
“No, I— it’s not that,” you attempt to stammer out, but it’s hard when she’s looking down at you, almost predatorily.
She picks up on your growing arousal— the flushed skin and barely dampened hairline. “Would you stand up for me, sweet thing?” She requests, tugging on the collar of your shirt gently.
You nod immediately and stand up at her request, wrapping your fingers around her fleshed forearm. She guides you out of the seat of the booth and stops you in front of her.
You can see him writhing in pain, occasionally groaning, but he is far too scared to attempt to actually get up.
“You know, I do remember the little imbecile calling you boring and dry. But something is telling me that his claim is very wrong.” She states, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip as she licks over her own.
“I think that the sump-rat just doesn’t know how to take care of a girl properly,” she says, staring him down as she slides her fleshy hand from your jaw, down to the collar of your shirt again.
“It's such a shame too, y’know? He had such a beautiful little thing to cherish, touch… all of it. Couldn’t even manage to do that, huh?” She coos, trailing her metal claws up the back of your thigh, feeling it snag against your tights.
You gasp as she purposefully drags her hand up, effectively tearing them. “Sevika—” you stutter, but you’re quickly cut off as her thick lips press against yours.
“Mmpf—” you moan, eyes widening in shock. Once you adjust to the feeling, you close your eyes and grip onto her biceps firmly, rolling your hips into hers.
She nips roughly at your bottom lip, skating her hand up to grab a handful of your ass as she walks the both of you backwards. You make a confused noise but follow her regardless, making sweet little noises against her hot mouth.
You whimper as she turns you over and presses your chest onto the hardwood table, giving him a perfect view of both of you.
“What—” you make a confused sound, but the question is answered when her hands begin to work on the buckle of your studded belt. She leans forward and you feel as her breasts press into your back, “This okay?” She asks, stilling her hands on your hips as she waits for a response.
You nod eagerly, bracing yourself up on your forearms. “Yeah, I’m good,” you reply, taking a second to catch your breath.
“Yeah, you feelin’ good?” she teases, pressing her lips to your neck roughly. She suckles harshly on your skin before nipping at it, sliding one of her hands beneath the waistband of your shorts.
She teases her fingers over your clit teasingly, rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves. Your mouth drops open as you moan, grateful as you’re finally able to get some relief.
“Yeah, that’s it. Make those pretty little sounds for me,” she demands from over your shoulder, sinking her teeth into the side of your neck. The action forces you to cry out and grind yourself against her hand.
Your attention is caught by your ex-boyfriend, still battered and bruised on the ground. He growls and spits out a protest as he watches the debauchery play out.
“Did he ever make you feel like this?” She asks, pulling her hand away from your clit so that she can shove your shorts down to your mid-thigh.
“Answer me, baby,” she says lowly, giving you a light spank to your ass. “No, no, he didn’t,” you stammer out, gasping as you feel her metal claws dig into the meat of your ass.
“That’s right, isn’t it? But here you are, all soaked through your tights and panties.” She murmurs, moving both hands to the center of the sheen fabric.
“I really hope you don’t like these,” she comments. And before you can protest— she tears the fabric apart, causing you to gasp and shiver simultaneously.
Her fingers hook into the side of your panties as she yanks those down as well, rolling all of the fabric to your thighs. “Well aren’t you pretty,” she says, sliding her fingers through your folds again. You flush in embarrassment as she practically devours you with her eyes.
“Oh, fuck— Sevika,” you whimper, clawing at the edge of the table. “This all for me?” She asks smugly, rubbing her fingers against your sensitive bud again.
“Mhm– ahh,” you moan loudly, trying to gain more friction against her hand.
She slides a thick finger into you, grinning wolfishly as you release a wanton whine. She curls her fingers, slowly pushing them in and out of you. Her fingertips brush against the overly-sensitive and gummy walls inside of you. You nearly choke on your own voice as it feels like a live-wire is shooting through you.
“You had all of this ass and a sweet pussy to play with. But you wanted to act like a selfish, bigoted little rat and lose it all, didn’t you?” She mocks him, narrowing her eyes at him as her fingers work inside of you.
It’s painful for him, honestly. To watch one of the most beautiful women to ever grace Zaun’s presence get laid out by her best friend over a table. It’s humiliating for him, but exhilarating for the both of you.
"Isn't she pretty?" She asks, gently raking her claws through your hair.
"Tell her she's pretty." She commands, sneering at him as he stutters.
"Yes, she's— she's pretty," he stutters, averting his gaze back to the floor.
You finally get your revenge, and she finally gets to do the things she has spent the past few years dreaming about.
“Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers, c’mon, doll," she mumbles, sliding a second finger into you. Her mechanical hand presses into your lower back as she presses her fingers into you faster– harder.
You moan and writhe against the table, doing exactly as she says. The wet sounds coming from between your soft thighs are unfamiliar, something you have so rarely experienced. (Much less from anyone else.)
“F-Fuck, fuck, Sevika,” you cry out, throwing your ass back against her large hand. She licks over her bottom lip as she watches you hungrily. She kicks your legs apart, pushing her fingers further inside of you.
“She ever sound like this for you?” She sneers at him, chuckling darkly at the scowl that etches onto his face.
She pulls her fingers out of you and murmurs soft apologies at your incessant whining. “One second, sweet girl,” she says, slowly lowering herself onto her knees.
She kisses along your ass cheeks and the backs of your thighs on her way down, wrapping her hands around the fronts of your thighs. She pulls you back onto her warm, eager mouth and moans once she gets her tongue on you.
She laps at you feverishly, digging her nails into your thighs as she holds you against her firmly. With your back arched and cheeked smushed against the table, you become the spitting image of arousal and lust.
She wraps her thick lips around your clit and sucks harshly, determined to bring you over the edge with her mouth.
Her moans vibrate against you and heighten the already intense pleasure. “Mmf— I’m gonna, ha,” you gasp. You feel her nod against you, a silent encouragement.
You nearly scream out in pleasure as your vision blanks out and a white heat surges from between your legs, and up your body. Quiet sobs wrack through you as the orgasm washes over you, wave after wave, and your thighs begin to tremble.
You reach back with a weak hand to push her away from you, continuing to suck in shaky breaths.
“‘Vika, please,” you beg, and she finally lets up. She presses a final sloppy kiss to your pussy and then back up your thighs.
She wraps an arm around your front and hauls you back, holding you against her. With you almost all the way up, she tilts your head towards her with her tanned hand and presses a wet kiss to your mouth.
Her metal arm holds you up as she gently pries your mouth open with her tongue, shoving your slick into your mouth. You moan at the taste and the feeling, reaching back to tangle your fingers through her hair.
She pulls away and looks back at him, “I hope you learned something from this. Now get the fuck out,” she snaps meanly, keeping your face in place.
The trembling man scrambles up and ushers out of the bar, leaving the two of you in a long-awaited peace.
“You feeling alright?” she asks, gently thumbing over one of your nipples. You nod tiredly, “yeah, ‘m okay,” you mumble, biting your bottom lip softly.
“Good, because you’re not sleeping tonight,” she replies, pressing another firm kiss to your lips.
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Glasses
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader
Summary: At your covens bi-weekly game night, Jen points out that Agatha may be having problems with her eye sight…
Word Count: 3.7K
A/N: I recently saw a post about Agatha resisting her need for reading glasses and couldn’t get it out of my head… which led to this mammoth of a one shot. Bonus points if anyone can tell me what book Agatha is reading 😏

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the living room as the evening wore on. The coven had gathered at yours and Agatha’s cozy, sprawling home in the quiet suburbs of West View, where coffee cups slowly became wine glasses as the night continued, and the magic was tempered with laughter. Game night had become a regular thing—one that Billy had insisted on, for "coven bonding". The table was crowded with the usual suspects: Billy, Lilia, Jen, Alice.
You were curled up beside Agatha on the couch, feeling her warmth and a possessive, secure hand draped across your waist as Billy shifted the cards in front of you. Agatha, in her usual domineering manner, commanded the space with her presence, even in such mundane settings. The power she radiated was more than just the centuries of magic she had at her fingertips; it was in the way she looked at you, the way she spoke, and the way she held herself.
“Alright, Agatha your turn,” Billy said, grinning as he shuffled the cards for Cards Against Humanity, a new game he’d brought to spice up game night after Lilia’s pick of Monopoly ended with Agatha putting Billy in a headlock and announcing she would never again play a boardgame with the coven again for a witch as powerful as she was above such things. Then after two days of you not putting out she caved and agreed to host the next game night.
Billy wiggled his eyebrows. “Okay Agatha you have to pick your worst, most inappropriate card. Show no fear.”
“I’m aware,” Agatha muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms and leaning back on the couch, her lips curling slightly into a smirk. “I’m sure I can manage without your help pet.” she teased as Billy pouted at the degrading nickname Agatha liked to use to irritate her student and coven member.
Alice chimed in, a playful glint in her eyes. “Is that so, Agatha? I thought the big bad witch was above coven bonding game night.”
Agatha huffed, clearly unfazed. She always liked the banter, but her eyes narrowed when she picked up her cards to read.
“Ugh, what is this?” She muttered, leaning forward slightly and squinting at the small print on the card. “This print is way too small for anyone with decent eyesight.”
Billy leaned forward, inspecting the card. “No, no, it’s fine, Agatha,” he said, shaking his head.
“You’re just getting old.” Lilia teased, having succumbed to wearing reading glasses herself a couple of hundred years ago now.
Agatha’s eyes shot up in a flash of fiery annoyance, her voice sharp as she snapped, “Excuse me?”
Jen couldn’t help but pile on the teasing. “Is the witch killer getting old? Maybe you need some glasses, Agatha. What’s next? A walking stick?”
Agatha’s posture stiffened, and for the briefest moment, you saw a flicker of something in her eyes—concern, maybe? Something more vulnerable than the powerful woman she always presented. Her hand tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as she huffed.
You leaned back into her, trying to keep the mood light. “You don’t look old, ignore her,” you said softly, feeling her tense form slowly relax as you pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.
Jen, ever the instigator, kept prodding. “Worried you won’t suit glasses, Agatha? It’s not like it’ll make you less powerful or something.”
Agatha glared at Jen, a flash of purple crackling in the air, and for a split second, you could feel the tension between them—something on the verge of too much. But then, as quickly as it appeared, she relaxed again, laughing darkly. “Are you really talking about power, Kale?” she drawled, eyes narrowing. “You’d have to stop using your magic for something more than selling cheap hand cream and jade eggs before you speak to me about power.”
Jen rolled her eyes and went back to the game at hand, muttering something about Agatha needing a chemical peel. You could feel Agatha’s mood shift, though, something more protective and possessive edging into her tone. She pulled you closer still, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist as if daring anyone to challenge her. “I may be older than you, but I’m not about to let something so trivial make me look like a relic.” She murmured in your ear before kissing your hair.
You blinked, realizing what was happening—Agatha was genuinely concerned about looking old in front of you.
With a soft smile, you leaned in and whispered, “You’re perfect Agatha.”
The comment seemed to soothe her, her hand gently smoothing over your side as she looked at you with an unreadable expression. "You don't mind that I'm an ancient witch, huh?" she murmured, almost sounding insecure, though she’d never admit it.
You shook your head. "Not at all. You're everything I want and more. I’m gonna love you forever till we are both old and wrinkly. Now, let's work as a team for this game night, hmm?”
She nodded and smiled, burying her face in your hair as you whispered what the cards said in her ear, but you could tell she wasn’t fully convinced.
~
A few nights later, you were lying in bed together, the quiet of the room filled with the soft rustle of pages as Agatha read in comfortable silence while you curled up against her body, placing occasional kisses against her skin. You had noticed, though, that Agatha seemed to be squinting at her book, holding it closer to her face. The sight was so endearing, and yet, it was clear something was off.
“Agatha,” you said, putting your book down with a soft sigh. “Why don’t you just get reading glasses?”
She stilled at your words, the briefest flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “I don’t need them,” she said firmly, not looking at you. “I’m still more than capable of reading fine print.”
You raised an eyebrow, seeing right through the act. “My love. It’s just a pair of glasses. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful. In fact, I think you’d look pretty sexy in them.”
Agatha glanced at you, her lips pulling into a slight smirk. “Sexy, hmm?”
You grinned. “Yeah. It’s like... you’re ready to teach me a lesson. Like a smart, sexy professor.”
Her eyes softened for a brief moment, the steely edge of her usual demeanor faltering as she considered your words. She let out a low, reluctant sigh. “Fine. Maybe I’ll think about it,” she muttered, glancing back down at her book.
But you knew the truth. Agatha had always been proud, and no matter how old she was, she would never admit to needing anything. It was part of what made her the captivating, powerful witch she was—and also part of what made her so vulnerable, in her own quiet way.
“Want me to read to you?” you asked softly, worried about her straining her eyes any further.
“I’m not a child,” Agath furrowed her eyebrows. “And I told you, I don't need glasses.”
“I know, I know” you cooed softly and gently took her book out of her hands. “I just thought it might be nice, I could read to you while you hold me” You smiled innocently, and despite you not being very subtly in your approach, Agatha decided to play along and pulled you up into her arms, caged between her thighs as you rested your head on her chest and began to take over reading for the evening. “You will think me cruel, very selfish, but love is always selfish; the more ardent the more selfish. How jealous I am, you cannot know….”
~
The afternoon sun filtered through the wide windows of Agatha’s home a few days later, casting warm light over the comfortably cluttered space. Books, ancient artifacts, and plants you had carefully tended were scattered throughout, blending the mystical with the homey. At the center of it all sat Billy, cross-legged on the floor, a shimmering orb of blue energy floating between his hands.
Agatha paced slowly in front of him, her long, dark coat swishing behind her, every inch the commanding mentor. She gestured with a pointed finger. “Focus, Billy. The energy needs to flow, not stutter. Let it move through you, not against you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Billy said, his brow furrowed in concentration.
You watched from the cozy armchair near the corner, sipping tea and enjoying the sight of Agatha in her element. Her sharp, confident tone had softened just a bit for Billy, something you’d noticed more often lately. It made your heart warm.
After a while, Agatha clapped her hands. “All right, let’s take a break before your brain turns to mush. I need my students to be alert, not fried.”
Billy let the orb dissolve with a sigh of relief, slumping back against the sofa. He pulled out his phone, and moments later, his face lit up.
“Yes!” he exclaimed, thrusting the phone into the air. “I just got the notification—I've won it!”
Agatha raised an eyebrow, amused. “Won what? A new magical trinket, or are we talking about The Wizard of Oz action figures again?”
Billy rolled his eyes. “No, something actually cool. I won this old tarot deck on eBay—it’s perfect for Lilia’s birthday! She’s gonna love it.”
At the mention of Lilia, Agatha turned to you. “Speaking of birthdays…” She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Have we gotten her anything? Or am I about to look like a neglectful witch in front of my own coven?”
You smiled, setting your teacup down. “Relax, baby. I’ve got it all handled.”
Agatha’s lips curved into a sly grin, and she leaned her weight onto one hip. “Oh, do you now?”
“Of course.” You counted off on your fingers. “I found some antique jewelry with her birthstone. Very classy. And I’ve potted her a set of plants I know she’ll adore.”
Agatha hummed approvingly. “You do spoil her. Remind me to put you in charge of all our gift-giving.”
“Baby, I already am” you flushed red at her praise.
Billy, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with excitement, clearly convinced his gift was still superior. “Yeah, yeah, jewelry’s cool and all, but wait until you see this deck. It’s vintage, from the 1800s, with hand-painted illustrations. Check it out.” He handed his phone to Agatha.
Agatha took it, squinting at the screen. “What am I looking at here?” She held the phone closer, then farther away, frowning. “Is it damaged, or has this thing seen better days?”
Billy blinked. “Uh, neither? It’s just a normal phone. Agatha… I think you might need reading glasses.”
The air went still for a moment. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying, and failing, to stifle a laugh.
Agatha’s head snapped up, her expression caught somewhere between insulted and utterly appalled. “Pardon? Reading glasses?”
Billy raised his hands defensively. “I’m just saying, you were holding that phone like two feet away from your face. That’s a sign, y’know?”
Agatha’s offended gasp was theatrical. “Right. Fun’s over. Break’s done. Back to work, Kaplan. Maybe try focusing on your powers instead of my supposed eyesight deficiencies.”
Billy groaned. “Come on, I was joking!”
You stood from your chair, walking over to Agatha and resting a hand on her arm. She still looked put out, her lips pursed as though she was already plotting some sort of mild retribution. Gently, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.
“Don’t be too hard on poor Billy,” you said, your voice sweet and playful.
Agatha turned her stormy blue eyes on you, her scowl softening. “No promises,” she said over her shoulder as she turned back to Billy, though her tone held a trace of humor.
Smiling, you headed toward the kitchen. “I’m going to grab you both some fresh lemonade. Try to behave while I’m gone!”
Billy snickered. “You hear that, Agatha? Behave.”
Agatha leveled a mock-glare at him. “Keep it up, and you’ll be working on energy manipulation until the sun comes up.”
You shook your head fondly, leaving the two to their banter. The sounds of their voices followed you into the kitchen, a comforting reminder of how much Agatha had changed since you’d come into her life. She wasn’t just a powerful, commanding force; she was your partner, your protector, and, sometimes, even a little vulnerable.
As you squeezed lemons and prepared glasses, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Reading glasses, huh? You’d have to keep an eye out for a stylish pair—after all, Agatha could pull off anything.
~
Later that evening, as you both curled under the sheets, Agatha nestled into your chest, content but still brooding about her pride. “What are you doing?” She pouted as you scrolled on your phone instead of lavishing her with attention.
“I’m looking online at glasses for you” You told her softly, aware of how badly this might go so you tried to keep it light “What do you think of these?” you joked as you showed her an image of outdated spectacles that would usually be found in the possession of somebody’s grandmother.
You couldn’t help but laugh as she shifted, the power in her demeanor slipping just enough for you to catch the slight unease in her eyes. She shot you a look as if to say, Don’t you dare tease me about this too. “If I’m old enough to be your mother, I’m certainly not going to let you see me in spectacles,” she muttered.
You chuckled, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You know I don’t care about that.” you placed your phone down on the bedside table and shifted to lay across from her in bed, her hands finding your hips and giving them a gentle squeeze. “And remember I think you’d look hot in a pair of reading glasses.”
Agatha finally met your eyes, her eyes softening just slightly before she gave a reluctant, but genuine, smile. “You really still think I’d look hot in glasses?”
“Absolutely,” you replied, a playful gleam in your eyes. “But I think you look sexy without them too. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
She held you tighter, her usual bravado melting for just a moment as she buried her head in the crook of your neck. “Good,” she murmured, her voice a little softer than usual. “Because you're all I need to prove anything to.”
~
The coven had gathered once again, back in your living room for your bi-weekly game night, where the flicker of candlelight cast dancing shadows over the group. The atmosphere was familiar—lively banter, wine glasses clinking, the occasional burst of laughter. The table in the center was covered with snacks, playing cards, and a half-finished board game that had devolved into spirited bickering. It had become a beloved routine, the start of a tradition even, but tonight there was something different.
You were sitting beside Agatha on the couch as usual, feeling that quiet sense of contentment that only being near her could bring. She was the center of attention, as always, but there was something about her tonight that was subtly changed—her sharp, commanding presence tempered by something softer. For the first time, Agatha was wearing glasses. The sleek, dark frames sat neatly on her face, enhancing her already striking features, giving her an air of intellectual allure that you found endlessly attractive.
She’d finally caved. After a week of gentle teasing from you and a few pointed remarks from Billy, Agatha had purchased a pair. She hadn’t been thrilled about it, of course—her pride wouldn’t allow that—but seeing her wear them now, a slightly smug smirk on her lips as she flipped through a book, was all the confirmation you needed. She looked... well, even more stunning than usual. And after catching at your staring at her with a lustful haze in your eyes whenever she wore them certainly helped her adjust.
The coven members gathered around the coffee table, playing some old-fashioned board game this time, when Jen couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta ask,” Jen said, her voice dripping with teasing amusement. “Is this really what I think it is? Agatha Harkness wearing... glasses?”
Agatha didn’t miss a beat, her lips curling into a smug, satisfied smile. Without hesitation, she pushed her glasses up her nose in a single fluid motion, looking every bit the domineering witch she was. You clenched your thighs together at the subtle action, biting your lip to prevent a needy whimper. Agatha glanced sideways and smirked, placing a possessive hand on your thigh.
“Glasses, yes,” Agatha replied coolly, her voice dripping with a mix of pride and playfulness. “A small concession for the sake of clarity. But don’t get too excited.”
Jen’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? I was starting to think you were above the need for such things, Agatha.” She grinned,
Alice chuckled, leaning forward as if to inspect them more closely. “You know, it’s kind of... cute.”
“Cute?” Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no venom in her tone. If anything, she was enjoying the attention.
But before she could respond, you sat up straighter in your seat, your usual soft demeanor hardening just slightly.
“Hey,” you said firmly, frowning at Alice. “Stop it. She’s mine.” The room went silent for a beat, the surprise evident on everyone’s faces. You were known for being sweet and gentle, never one to raise your voice or stake a claim so boldly.
Agatha’s eyebrows shot up, but her smirk turned into a full grin, her eyes gleaming with delight. “Well, well,” she drawled, leaning back in her chair. “Looks like my kitten’s got claws.”
Alice blinked, then held up her hands defensively. “Whoa, I wasn’t trying anything. Just a compliment.”
“Good,” you replied, still holding her gaze for a moment before glancing at Agatha.
Agatha’s expression softened, her grin melting into something warm and fond. “Come here, baby girl.”
Without hesitation, Agatha guided you onto her lap, wrapping her arms securely around your waist as she nuzzled into your neck. The rest of the coven chuckled softly, the earlier tension dissolving into affectionate teasing.
“Looks like someone’s feeling protective tonight,” Lilia quipped, nudging Alice with her elbow.
“Can you blame her?” Agatha said smoothly, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I am quite the catch, after all.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Don’t let it go to your head, Miss Harkness.”
“Oh, too late for that,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. Agatha kept you close, her hands resting possessively on your hips or lightly trailing over your arm as the game continued. Every now and then, she’d steal a glance at you, her gaze filled with pride and adoration.
Jen couldn’t resist pushing further. “Yeah, I’m just shocked that Agatha Harkness is admitting she’s getting older”
The playful taunt hung in the air, but before Jen could get too cocky, Agatha smirked, her eyes flicking to you, then back to the group.
“Oh, Jen,” Agatha drawled, leaning back into the couch and crossing her arms, her voice smooth with a certain satisfaction. “You’re not entirely wrong. I am getting older. But my baby girl here”—she gestured lazily toward you curled up in her arms, her eyes glinting—“happens to like the glasses very much.”
You blinked, caught a little off guard by her boldness, but when you met her eyes, you saw the familiar glimmer of mischief. You felt your cheeks warm as Agatha continued, her tone playful but edged with something deeper.
“In fact, she made it very clear last night just how much she finds them... appealing.”
Jen froze for a moment, her teasing smile faltering as the implications hit her. She blinked, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as the other coven members exchanged glances, their eyes widening in surprise. You could see Jen’s eyes flick from Agatha to you, and then back again as if trying to process what Agatha had just implied.
You, on the other hand, tried your best to suppress a grin. Agatha’s protective nature had flared up again, but this time it wasn’t out of insecurity—it was pride, pride in herself and, somehow, in you, too. The room had shifted—what had started as playful teasing from Jen had somehow turned into a subtle reminder of Agatha’s deep affection for you.
Agatha wasn’t just powerful. She was proud. Proud of her magic, proud of herself, and—dare you say—proud of you. It was rare for her to show such vulnerability, but tonight, with the glasses perched on her nose, she allowed herself a little indulgence, teasing Jen and the others about the private, intimate moments she shared with you. It was a side of Agatha that few got to see.
You smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth. “I just think Agatha looks incredible in them,” you said softly, leaning into her. “Not that she needed them to look good, she’s just…” you voice trailed off as you gazed lovingly in her eyes, making Alice and Billy pretend to vomit all over the carpet.
Agatha looked down at you, her lips curling into a smile that made your heart flutter. “That’s right,” she murmured, brushing her fingers through your hair. “I didn’t need them to look good. But if they make her like this I’m prepared to keep them around.” She said in reference to your reverent gaze.
Billy snickered. “So you didn’t get them to see, just to make y/n not be able to finish sentences?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Billy’s comment, but Agatha’s gaze never wavered from you. Her eyes softened as she looked at you, almost like she was savoring the moment, the way you always made her feel seen—not just as the formidable witch she was, but as the woman you loved.
“Thank you,” Agatha murmured when the game started back up and everyone went back to their playful bickering, barely audible over the soft laughter of the group.
You met her gaze, feeling the love in your chest swell. “You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered back. “I’ll always think you’re perfect, with or without the glasses.”
She pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer against her chest once more as she returned her attention to the rest of the coven.
You simply smiled, resting your head against Agatha’s chest, feeling her heartbeat against your ear as she let her arm drape around you protectively.
Tonight, Agatha might have been wearing glasses, but it was clear: she was as powerful, as captivating, and as loving as ever. And for you, that was all that mattered.
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#kathryn hahn
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The winner takes it all
Couple: Barça Femení x reader
Au! Omegaverse, Alpha x Omega
Note: This will be a complete orgy, reader will be occupied as a competition for the alphas, lots of smut but a fluff ending. If there is any mistake, please let me know.
The first member of the team you met was Aitana. You were in your fourth year of your English teaching degree, and as part of your professional practice, you had started giving personalized and private lessons in addition to the hours you were required to work at a student residence.
She had found you through a mutual friend. According to what she had told you the first time you met to discuss these lessons, she wanted to learn more English so she could do better in interviews, speak better with her foreign teammates, and overcome her fear of English. Aitana was a very calm, gentle Alpha. She always listened attentively to what you were teaching her and was very eager to learn everything you taught her.
As soon as Aitana was able to schedule the first study session with you, she refurbished one of her spare rooms. She painted it creamy red and bought the necessary supplies. A notebook for her, a small whiteboard so you could write down important things she needed to write, pencils, and markers. It was a study room, filled with books in Spanish and books in English that you had recommended.
You found it very endearing to see how focused she was on learning English. You still remember that time she was excited to be able to formulate a sentence correctly in the past tense.
"So, since we've already taken the placement test, we'll start talking about verb tenses. I suppose you know the main verb, right, Aitana?" You placed a printed piece of paper in front of her on the table, while she looked at you with Bambi-like eyes, quite confused by what you had just said.
"I…" She lowered her gaze as she seemed to stare at the sheet of paper as if it were the most important thing in the world, as if it were going to give her all the universal answers and open another door to the universe. You, on the other hand, laughed tenderly; she reminded you of a little Bambi.
"Okay, we'll start by reviewing that, and then the first thing we'll look at is the Present Tense." She had given you a small board, but you could write on it. "The main verb is the verb "to be." We covered that at the end of last class. I think you wrote it down. So, there are three tenses. Do you know what they are?" She shook her head slowly, and you smiled in understanding. You'd met many children who felt self-conscious because it was a different language, but who actually knew a lot.
"They're the present, the past, and the future," she nodded quickly, beginning to write in a notebook. Apparently, she wasn't very different from the children you taught in the mornings.
"Those moments are divided into four," you saw her raise an eyebrow and decided to continue. "There's the simple, the continuous, the perfect, and the perfect continuous." You gave her a few minutes to write and then continued making a timeline listing the four moments. You slowly explained the four and gave her an example of each, so that she understood the information.
"Now that we've covered the four, I'm going to pass this on to you." You held up a worksheet where she would first have to see which present tense it belonged to, find the mistake, and, lastly, write an example for each one. You gave her 15 minutes; you knew it would be difficult for her, so you gave her the time she needed.
You organized some of your things, putting the ones you didn't need in your bag, the rest in your pencil case, and leaving the essentials outside. You began to look around Aitana's house, trying not to look at her so she wouldn't get nervous. It gave off a great vibe, a warm light, minimalist arrangement, and light gray and white walls. There were many photos of her family and herself throughout her career hanging on the gray walls, each one framing an important moment.
After the 15 minutes were up, she timidly extended the sheet of paper toward you, anxiously awaiting feedback.
You silently reviewed them for yourself, then smiled broadly.
"Okay, shall we begin the feedback?"
"Yes, please," she sounded tired. "I didn't ask how your work went today. You're very tired, Aitana," you began as you wrote things down on the whiteboard. You looked up and saw her nod slowly. "Sorry if I was too nosy. I guess it's a teacher's way of worrying about students like that," you commented jokingly, trying to get her to let go of the day's stress. You heard her laugh at your words and felt a strange warmth in your chest.
"Okay, let's begin."
Aitana had done almost everything right, with small mistakes despite it being her first time seeing the topic. Until the final part. She became nervous and started bouncing her leg, waiting for you to tell her everything was wrong.
"I must say, I think you're the fastest learner in my classes." You smiled. "You had all good ones, Aitana. Congratulations. You're one step closer to speaking English better." You congratulated her on her new achievement, giving her a big smile that was reciprocated with emotion.
"Did I really have all good ones? Are you sure? Completely sure?" she asked, already getting up from her seat and almost jumping for joy.
"Yes, Aitana, I'm sure you had all good ones."
You saw her celebrate as if she had won the World Cup, jumping up to hug you.
That day will remain in your memory; you had never seen her so full of energy so close up.
Then came the day you met her teammates.
Aitana had forgotten to tell you that that Thursday, like every Thursday, they wouldn't be able to have tutoring because her teammates would be attending the traditional team meeting held every three weeks at one of the girls' houses.
You arrived and knew immediately that something wasn't right. When you stood outside her apartment door, you smelled a lot of different odors, all of them alphas. At first, you thought it might be the neighbors, but when a completely different person than Aitana opened the door, your suspicions were confirmed.
It wasn't that you weren't a soccer connoisseur; your best friend was a soccer fanatic, along with his father and yours, so it was a big surprise when none other than Alexia Putellas opened the door to your student's apartment.
"Do you want something? I think you've got the wrong apartment." Her voice was soft, though you knew she wasn't happy with your presence.
"I'm looking for Aitana… we had a class today." Your voice sounded weaker than usual. Her presence was imposing, and her scent even more so, making your omega feel very weak, ready to be marked or taken by that alpha. She raised an eyebrow, and when she was about to ask again, she was stopped by the hostess.
"Y/N? God forgive me. I forgot to tell you that we couldn't have class today." Aitana looked very embarrassed, while Alexia's gaze flicked between you and her companion.
"Do you want to come in? I'm sorry you had to come all the way here and we can't have class because I forgot to tell you." You could sense the change in Aitana's scent, while an apologetic look crossed her face.
"It's okay, Aitana. I don't mind going home,"you tried to dismiss her guilt as a soft, but tired smile appeared on your face.
"No, no, come on in." She brought her hand to your wrist, where she gently took it and pulled you into the apartment. You felt Alexia's gaze on you and heard her close the door behind you.
You felt like you'd just walked into the lion's den.
You were surrounded by very beautiful female athletes, all alphas. You felt a little uncomfortable being the only omega there, so you stayed close to the only person you knew, Aitana.
She introduced you to all her teammates, while they greeted you cordially. You noticed how every time she introduced you to someone, they looked you up and down. Some were more adept at hiding it, others not, and bit their lip while giving you flirtatious glances. You felt your blush grow every time that happened.
There was a moment in the night, which had been filled with meaningless conversations with the older alphas who were also showing interest in learning English, while the younger ones were more interested in flirting with you. You had decided to go out to Aitana's balcony to get some fresh air, and also to look over some things the university had sent you.
You went out with your bag to sit on the beanbag Aitana had on the balcony. You took out your computer and placed it on your lap, turning it on and logging into the university website. You put on headphones so you could hear the material better.
You were so focused on your computer that you didn't notice when someone came out onto the balcony as well. It wasn't until she sat down next to you that you realized, jumping in your seat and placing a hand on your heart, while sighing, feeling your heartbeat a thousand times an hour. "God, that was scary," you heard her laugh as she looked up at the sky.
"Sorry for scaring you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to get some fresh air. I didn't think you'd be here… We thought you were gone. The others were starting to feel sad."
You felt embarrassed when you heard her words. Even though everyone else had made it clear they had other intentions, they always respected each other's boundaries.
Ona settled in next to you, brushing her arm against yours, but not making eye contact. A few minutes later, another person joined them, Jana. You'd noticed that she, like the other younger ones, was quite talkative and energetic. So it seemed strange to you when she sat on your other side in silence, simply looking at what you were doing on your computer and asking you questions about words she didn't know, and you happily explained everything to her. Ona, who was on your other side, was resting her head on your bicep, her eyes closed, and she seemed content with the scent of you enveloping her.
A few minutes later, you had two alphas sleeping on your sides, their heads resting on your shoulders. Aitana called out to you, but you were determined not to move so as not to wake them.
Weeks later (after exchanging numbers with most of them under the guise of planning a tutoring session), you'd been invited to a party to celebrate a big victory.
You couldn't refuse; you really needed it. You were a few weeks away from finishing your semester, and that meant a lot of stress.
You put on comfortable but nice clothes; you never know, maybe you'd find a hot alpha or something to spend the night with.
You arrived and could see how the girls seemed to be enjoying the atmosphere. Ona was dancing close to Jana, Cata was dancing close to Pina's back, and Patri was filming them. You saw Alexia standing face to face with Ingrid, while Mapi sat drinking with a smile on her face.
You approached them, greeted by their greetings and a beer. "I don't know if you'd like it, but if not, I'll tell Aitana to order something for you, little one," Kika spoke, giving you a flirtatious smile, typical of her. You sat next to Ellie, accepting the beer they'd given you. You quickly fell into a conversation with the English girl, her hand resting on your shoulders, caressing them, and your hand occasionally resting on her knee. There was a moment where she stopped hugging you to lean over to drink her drink. When she sat back down, she placed her hand on your thigh, squeezing and caressing there. It felt so good to feel her caresses on your sensitive skin.
A while later, you went to the dance floor, where you danced with all the Alphas, unaware that you had left them aroused and with a plan in mind.
That day, like the previous ones, you had gone to class with Aitana, although this time you encountered a new surprise. All of Aitana's teammates were in her apartment, apparently waiting for you as well.
You entered, greeting everyone present politely and heading to the table where they usually held classes. You took out your books, your computer, and the markers for the board, waiting for Aitana to join you. You were in the weeks leading up to exams, so you were more sensitive and stressed than usual. It was noticeable in your scent; it was less sweet, almost imperceptible, which had worried the other girls.
Ingrid had entered the small area where you felt comfortable teaching. She sat down next to you and put her arm around your shoulders.
You inertia nestled against her, inhaling her scent and relaxing slightly. She placed a kiss on your hair, beginning to caress your arm with her fingertips, sending shivers down your spine.
Then Mapi joined her. She was more active, unlike Ingrid; she started talking.
"Oh my God, baby, are you okay?" She helped you get up from the chair and, without asking, made you sit on Ingrid's lap, so you could bury your face in the Norwegian's neck. Mapi sat next to Ingrid. "I'm worried about not smelling your scent. Are you okay? I don't know if that's normal for Omegas, but if not, we should take you to the hospital for a checkup. You can't lose your scent… I really like the way you smell, love." You opened your eyes slightly and saw the exact moment a pout formed on her lips, making you feel extremely tender.
"I'm fine… it usually happens to me when I'm really stressed… It's the last few weeks of exams and I need to pass them. I don't want to waste a year and have to repeat it."
Ingrid's hands were all over your back, trying to help you relax. While Mapi seemed to have the mission of filling the space with her scent. You felt lips on your temple, making you open your eyes again, connecting with Ingrid's green ones.
"How can we help you, Kjære?" Ingrid's hands rested on your lower back, over the end of your shirt.
You felt dizzy from the attention they were both giving you; it was very difficult for you to think straight when there were two alphas marking you with their scent, trying to relieve your stress.
Mapi's lips landed on your shoulder, followed by a small bite that made you shudder completely, making you gasp slightly.
You hid your face closer to Ingrid's neck, listening to both of them laugh softly at your reaction. "It's okay, Cari." Mapi's hands rested on your waist, pressing against your side. They stayed like that for about 10 more minutes, and you were already going crazy. You were enveloped in both of their scents and could feel their cocks unconsciously rubbing against your body or pressing against yours.
You emerged from your hiding place on Ingrid's neck, sharing a look with her, which she then undressed toward her lips. She seemed to get the hint, as she slowly leaned toward you to touch her lips to yours. It began as a shy, innocent brush of lips, her hands resting on your knee, leaving small caresses with her fingertips.
But it quickly transformed into a quicker, more lustful kiss. Her hands softly and slowly moved to your waist, where she gently tugged to adjust you so that your back was to Mapi, who was standing in front of Ingrid.
As soon as she finished positioning you on her lap, you could feel the prominent erection already growing through Ingrid's pants, making you gasp and moan when you touched there. Mapi was already sitting in front of you, her hand positioning her member and also trying to calm the uncomfortable erection that was growing as she watched you rub and kiss her girlfriend with such need. Her head fell back as she now squeezed her member. When she turned her gaze towards you, she saw both of you staring at her intently.
"Mapi, we need to help our girl here. Then we can help you, right, baby?" Ingrid asked the last thing to you while she rubbed her nose against your neck, while you couldn't tear your gaze away from Maria's erection; it was almost hypnotizing.
You felt Ingrid's hands assault your backside, leaving a firm grip. You moaned, turning your gaze forward, watching as she shifted to remove your shirt and, in passing, your bra. She paid attention to your breasts, first taking one of them to her warm mouth and running her tongue over your already hard nipples. Her hands roamed over your abdomen and thighs, feeling your skin react to her touches.
"Ingrid…" you moaned as you moved your hips against her cock. "God… yes, please." Your hands gripped his hair, tugging as you felt her teeth press against your sensitive nipples. You could still feel Mapi's scent filling the space, though it was stronger now.
Ingrid brought her hands to your butt, kneading it as she began to bite near your collarbones, leaving small marks. You began to move up and down, pressing Ingrid's cock in the right place, feeling that familiar sensation of pleasure rush through your body.
Ingrid threw her head back, feeling you move against her, her hands still on your butt. She looked over your shoulder for a second, watching Mapi stare at your butt and touch her cock, now free of her pants and looking pleased. She instantly decided you should see it too.
She lifted you from her lap, and as soon as you stood up, she placed a kiss on your abdomen while slowly unbuttoning your pants, followed by soft, fluttering kisses, trying to show care and affection.
When she had your shorts off, caressing and kissing in between, she made you sit down, this time with your back to her, so you could look at Mapi, who was standing with her cock wrapped in her hand, looking at you shyly and with a blush on her face. You felt yourself getting even wetter at the sight, if possible, feeling even more in need of a cock, while Ingrid took her time kissing your body.
"Ingrid," you moaned, staring at Mapi, who had once again begun to stroke herself, this time slower but with deeper movements. She stroked from the tip to the base of her penis, while you watched the precum begin to flow out.
Ingrid pulled her pants down enough to free her member. First, she stroked it for a few seconds, then helped you align it. As soon as it entered, you could feel a small release of pleasure. It ran through your entire body, from the tips of your toes to your head.
You took a few minutes to get used to its size and thickness, then you began to ride it with her help. Her hands were firmly gripped on your hips, while her own moved upward, penetrating you deeper. In the moment when you could keep your eyes open, you were able to see the exact moment Mapi had her orgasm.
First, you saw her face, constricted with pleasure and red from the heat that had been building in the room. Then, you looked down, observing how her nipples were erect and her abs were defined by the continued tension, making you gasp as thoughts began to flood your mind, mostly about what it would be like to cum on her abdomen. Finally, your eyes reached her cock, which was at its peak in her hand.
It was wet and rumbling as she moved her hand along its length. It was a sound similar to the one Ingrid's cock made inside you. You saw how she began to move her hand faster, and her moans intensified. It didn't take more than five minutes for her to reach her orgasm. It was addictive to watch her neck tense and her veins pop out, while the same thing happened on her tattooed arms, which were then splashed with the whitish liquid that flowed from her cock. It took about 15 seconds for the semen to flow from Mapi's big cock, while she moaned with pleasure and tried to breathe normally again.
Ingrid was also close, and you were the one who was almost cumming. The familiar tugging began to appear, and your thighs were already trembling. You brought your hands to your tits to knead and play with your nipples, pulling them, giving yourself more pleasure. You lasted no more than 10 minutes with these movements before you came on top of Ingrid, satisfied. She moved against you as she came, and you tried to come down from the cloud of pleasure and ecstasy you'd been lifted to.
While you were in that state, Mapi approached Ingrid and handed her a marker. She took it and leaned you forward, making you hug her abdomen while you wiped the tears there.
She wrote on your lower back, before reaching your buttocks: "Ingrid: 1."
Mapi smiled at her, watching her write with a satisfied smile on her face. All the alphas had planned such an encounter, and they had also talked about writing down how many orgasms they could give you.
"Does that also count as an orgasm caused by me?" Mapi asked as she ran her hand through your hair, leaving soft, tender caresses.
"Do you think so?"
"She watched me masturbate for her, it turned her on and helped her cum," she murmured, feeling triumphant. Ingrid handed her the marker so she could write it down, then pulled you towards her chest as she hugged you and placed small kisses on your shoulders and neck. Mapi leaned down and wrote her name with a 1 below your right collarbone.
She smiled contentedly, watching you draped over Ingrid, her cock still resting inside you.
"There's still a lot of night ahead, baby, so come on. We all want to make you feel less stressed and better. Are you ready for the night?" Ingrid whispered against your ear, as she began rubbing your clit, making your legs tremble slightly and you moan her name.
"Can you answer me?" A long gasp left your chest as you opened your eyes again, looking at a smiling Mapi in front of you.
"Yes, God, yes. Please." You brought your hand to Ingrid's, gently squeezing her wrist. You both looked at each other and shared a knowing smile, already knowing what was coming next.
#woso x reader#woso omegaverse#barca femeni#claudia pina x reader#mapi leon x reader#fridolina rolfo x reader#ingrid engen x reader#cata coll x reader#ellie roebuck x reader#alexia putellas x reader#aitana bonmati x reader#kika nazareth x reader
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Just looking through some of your work and MA'AM. Not to be a straight woman, but oh m y god ohm yg od oh my g od-
So prompt: Logan is pretty good at casual possessive gestures. I wanna read a reaction to reader's possessive gestures towards him.
I'm thinking hand on thigh, hand on waist, staring, putting space between someone else and him, sky's the limit
You could make it a 5+1 format (I am a sucker for those)
Five Times You Were Possessive of Logan, and the One Time He Was Possessive of You
1. Hand on His Thigh
The first time it happens, it’s completely unplanned. You’re at the bar, sitting next to Logan as the two of you chat with some friends. He’s his usual stoic self, gruff but present, the warmth of his body a comforting presence next to you. As the conversation continues, you notice someone across the room eyeing Logan with more interest than you’re comfortable with.
Without thinking, your hand moves to rest on his thigh under the table. The action is instinctive, a way to ground yourself and subtly remind whoever’s watching that Logan isn’t available. The moment your fingers curl around the muscle of his leg, you feel him tense ever so slightly, the briefest hitch in his breath. He doesn’t say anything, just glances down at your hand before looking back at you with a raised eyebrow.
You offer him a small, almost shy smile, as if to say, This okay?
Logan’s lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk, and his large, rough hand covers yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t move your hand away, doesn’t ask any questions. But there’s a look in his eyes that’s both amused and a little bit surprised, like he’s pleased with your boldness.
He leans in close, his voice low in your ear. “You don’t gotta worry, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
2. Hand on His Waist
The next time it happens, it’s at a crowded event. Some kind of gathering at Xavier’s that’s brought in mutants and allies from all over. You and Logan have been mingling for a while, but the room is packed, and you find yourself getting separated from him as people move between you.
You spot him across the room, chatting with Jean and Scott, and feel an inexplicable urge to be close to him. Navigating through the crowd, you slip between the bodies until you reach his side, where you slide your hand around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
Logan stiffens slightly, glancing down at you with an unreadable expression. For a second, you worry that you’ve overstepped, but then his arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you close against his side. He continues the conversation without missing a beat, but you notice the subtle way he shifts his stance, positioning himself just a bit more protectively between you and the crowd.
His hand lingers on your shoulder long after the conversation ends, thumb tracing idle circles against your skin.
3. Staring
It’s been a long day, and you’re sitting in the common room, watching Logan across the space. He’s talking with Ororo, something serious by the look on their faces. You know it’s important, that they’re discussing something related to the latest mission, but you can’t help the way your eyes linger on him.
He’s all rough edges and raw power, yet there’s something about him that’s magnetic, something that draws you in despite the gruff exterior. Maybe it’s the way he’s always so intensely himself, unapologetically so, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention—like you’re the one thing in the world that makes sense to him.
You realize you’ve been staring when Ororo glances over at you and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Logan follows her gaze and finds you looking right at him, your eyes soft, full of something you can’t quite name.
He tilts his head slightly, his gaze narrowing as if he’s trying to figure you out. For a moment, you think about looking away, but you don’t. You just keep staring, letting him see that he’s the only one in the room you care about.
Eventually, he huffs out a low chuckle, shaking his head before turning his attention back to Ororo. But he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, and you can tell that he’s more focused on you than whatever they’re discussing.
4. Putting Space Between Him and Someone Else
It’s a lazy afternoon, the kind where everyone at the mansion is doing their own thing. You and Logan are sitting outside, enjoying the fresh air, when one of the younger mutants—someone new and a bit too eager—approaches him. They start talking, standing a little too close for your liking, and you can see the way Logan shifts uncomfortably.
Before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re on your feet and moving towards them. Sliding yourself between Logan and the newcomer, you offer them a friendly smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Hey,” you say, cutting in smoothly. “Logan and I were just about to head out. Maybe you can catch him later?”
The newcomer looks a bit surprised, but they nod, glancing between you and Logan before backing off with a mumbled apology. You watch them leave, then turn to find Logan looking at you with an expression that’s both amused and impressed.
“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” he teases, but there’s a warmth in his tone that tells you he doesn’t mind one bit.
You shrug, trying to play it off. “Just didn’t like the way they were crowding you.”
Logan’s smirk widens, and he reaches out to pull you close, his hands resting on your hips. “Gotta admit, I kinda like it when you get all protective.”
5. Hand on His Chest
The fifth time is more deliberate. You’re out on a mission, tensions running high as you and Logan work together to neutralize a threat. When it’s finally over, you’re both exhausted, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.
As the team regroups, one of the other mutants—someone who’s always been a bit too friendly with Logan—sidles up to him, laying a hand on his arm as they talk. You feel a sharp pang of something hot and possessive in your chest, and before you can second-guess yourself, you’re right there beside him.
You place your hand on his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palm, and lean in closer than necessary. “You alright, Logan?” you ask, your voice laced with concern.
Logan’s eyes flicker with surprise, but then he smiles, his hand covering yours as he nods. “Yeah, I’m good,” he replies, his gaze never leaving yours.
The other mutant quickly excuses themselves, and Logan turns his full attention to you. “You know,” he says, his voice low, “I’m startin’ to think you don’t like sharin’.”
You give him a sly grin. “Maybe I don’t.”
Logan chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that sends shivers down your spine. “Good,” he murmurs, pulling you even closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “’Cause I don’t either.”
Logan’s Turn
The one time Logan decides to return the favor, it catches you completely off guard.
You’re in the kitchen, chatting with Bobby as you wait for your coffee to brew. The conversation is light, filled with jokes and teasing banter. Bobby’s always been a bit of a flirt, but it’s harmless, and you’re laughing at something he’s said when Logan walks in.
Before you can even greet him, Logan is suddenly right behind you, his arm wrapping possessively around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You can feel the solid heat of him, the way his grip is firm, almost claiming. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “What’s so funny?”
Bobby’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in the scene, and you can see the flash of understanding in his expression. “Uh, nothing, man. Just talking.” Bobby backs away with a nervous chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll, uh, catch you later.”
As Bobby quickly exits the kitchen, you turn to look up at Logan, still caught in his embrace. There’s a look in his eyes that’s both playful and intense, and you realize with a start that he’s the one feeling possessive now.
“Logan?” you ask, a bit breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.
He just grunts, the sound more of a satisfied hum than anything else, and his hand tightens on your waist. “Just didn’t like the way he was lookin’ at you,” he admits gruffly, but there’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice, like he’s not used to feeling this way.
A slow smile spreads across your face as you lean into him, your own hand finding its way to his chest, fingers tracing the familiar contours. “Guess we’re both a little possessive, huh?”
Logan huffs out a low laugh, his gaze softening as he looks down at you. “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice rumbling against your skin. “But I’m not complaining.”
You stand there together, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away as you both realize just how much you mean to one another. In that moment, it doesn’t matter who’s being possessive or why—what matters is that you belong to each other, and neither of you would have it any other way.
#marvel imagine#x men imagine#wolverine imagine#wolverine x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverine one shot#wolverine#deadpool imagine
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"Excuse me?" Jazz's voice echoes in the meeting room in space. She gains the attention of the heroes immediately and sees them tensing up in at her appearance.
Behind her, he swirling green portal is open, waiting for her to return.
A blond, coat wearing man, curses upon seeing her and gives a half bow. "Princess Jasmine," he speaks up, eye twitching.
"What brings you here?"
At the greeting and reveal of her title, few others fall into bows, the lady at the head of the table, wonder woman?, gives her a smile.
Her eyes pin the green skinned man to his seat, who in return tilts his head at her.
"My brothers birthday is soon," she focuses on the man again. "I'm simply here for a present."
The man tenses, another curse slipping. "Ah– king phantom, right? I wasn't aware his birthday would be so soon."
Jazz ignores him, calmly walking to the Martian and placing a picture of Mars before him.
"The tales of your people have brought much interest to my brother. He became a big fan." She tells, sharing her intentions at his light poking.
"I ask for a signature, it would make his day."
Martian Manhunter, alien hero, and once upon a time, a father even smiles. He's delighted yet feeling a deep-rooted sadness. The tales of his people continue to spread in the afterlife, it seems.
Jazz leaves quickly after, not before giving Diana a number, they are cousins after all.
Danny will love her present.
#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#fic prompt#writing prompt#dc x dp prompt#Jazz is the best sister#she literally walks into space like she owns it#(she might not but her brother sure does)#martian manhunter is so /pos#he later asks diana to ask the king if his wife is there too#with their kids#he also gets a copy of the mars pic#jazz isnt a monster#and if he gets imgredients only found on mars after this#he aint telling anyone
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At Least One Of Us Got Our Happy Ending
: Part 15 (Lando's Version)
: Spring Fling is finally here…that’s a good thing right?
: Prev | Next
: Series Masterlist
: Main Masterlist
: Author's Note - You can refer to Interesting *Cue Evil Laugh* to get the context for a certain part.
…









As Y/n and Lando watched Oscar pull his girl in for a kiss, she couldn't help but join some of their friends in hooting for the new couple. It was nice to see Oscar finally be with the girl he'd madly been head-over-heels for—Y/n could recall countless conversations they'd had about this. Smiling at the scene, she felt Lando pull her close to him, his hand resting on her waist.
"Should we get back to the table?" Asked Lando
Looking away from the scene in front of her, Y/n nodded at him and started leading him to their table.
There sat Max, one of Lando's friends who he constantly played games with, and his date.
Taking a seat, Y/n said, "It's so nice to see Oscar finally be happy."
"It is! I'm glad he came today," Lando said, looking at Oscar.
Max laughed to himself, leaning back against the chair he said, "I guess it's nice when things work out the way they're supposed to, huh?" He said, looking at Lando.
Lando narrowed his eyes at Max, "Max..." He said in a warning tone.
Confused by the exchange Y/n asked, "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"
Max shrugged casually, taking a sip from the flask he had snuck in, "Oh, it's just funny how it all started you know? I just didn't think you guys would actually make it," Max finished.
Lando could feel his heart beating faster, "Max," He said again this time with hint of anger.
Y/n couldn't help but tense up, looking between Lando and Max. "What does he mean by 'How it started' Lando?" She asked.
"Oh nothing, you know how I am, I love to talk nonsense," Max said realizing that he might have said a little too much.
"Lando...What does he mean by that?" Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando sighed deeply, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words. He felt angry—angry at Max for opening his mouth when it was not needed, angry at himself for agreeing to do such a stupid thing.
"Y/n..." He started, his voice hesitant. Reaching out for her hand, he said, "It wasn't supposed to mean anything...I had no idea that I would actually fall in love..." He said. He could see the dread wash over Y/n's eyes.
*flashback*


*present*
Y/n felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. All hope and dreams for an amazing night disappeared in an instant. She sat there in silence as she let Lando's words sink in.
"So I was just a 'Dare'?" She asked, still in disbelief.
Lando avoided her gaze, his throat feeling dry. "I—I never imagined that it would turn into this," He said. "At first, it was just a stupid dare, I was just angry about the complaint, but I never thought that..." Lando's voice trailed off. He was not sure what he could say or do to make any of it sound better.
Y/n could feel her eyes sting with tears, "So does that mean all this time, every single conversation we've had, every single moment we've spent together...It was all just a game to you?" Y/n said as tears trickled down her face.
"No!," Lando said suddenly, a little too loud for his liking. He tried to reach out for her hand, but she pulled away, "I didn't mean for it to be like that. It was just a dare at the start, I admit, but the more time I spent with you, the more I realized that I just couldn't continue. I was going to tell you, I swear Y/n," Lando said. "I just didn't know how...." He trailed off again.
"So if you hadn't "fallen in love" with me, would you have still gone through with your plan?" Y/n asked, her voice a mixture of anger and hurt.
Lando opened his mouth but no words came out. He didn't have an answer. Deep down, he knew that no answer would make things right. The damage had already been done.
Y/n stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Congrats!" She spat, her voice filled with bitterness. "You've won your stupid dare. I really hope it was worth it Lando," she said as she started walking towards the exit.
"Y/n please wait!" Lando pleaded.
"NO!" Y/n said, finally letting go of the emotions she had been holding onto till now. "Don't you dare follow me. You've lost the right to do that," she said, her voice cracking at the end.
And with that, she made her way out of the hall, taking Lando's heart with every step she took.

…
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Human Connection
Part I
Last part, next part



Logan Howlett x reader with injury related memory loss
Word count: 4.7k
A/N: Inspired by @pandapetals’ memory loss fic (it's taken over all by thoughts since I read it) as well as the song We’ll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross. Sorry in advance, this is probably going to be a series, I was going to make it all one story but it’s already this long and I haven’t gotten to what I wanted to get to.
Warnings: a combination of angst and fluff, suggested feminine reader (called Logan’s wife, she/her used once) but no true descriptions, if you’re an English teacher you’ll hate this because I mix past and present tense verbs. Sorry if it bothers you, it’s my primary grammatical weakness.
The doctor’s words felt monotonous and cold. Logan looked to you. Your eyes trained on the doctor, your blanketed knees pulled up to your chest, your arms loosely held around them. You had been conscious for around 24 hours and he’d hardly seen you. Admittedly at your specific request, ‘your hovering around is making me kinda anxious’ were the exact words. The sting of the words stuck in his mind. The doctor told the two of you the state of your condition, monitoring and treatment outline, and the information needed to fill out the discharge papers. You would walk away mostly fine. You survived the accident, lucky you!
But you didn’t feel lucky. You felt frustrated and unsettled. Maybe even a little scared. You had woken up to a man you’d never seen whispering to you in your sleep, seemingly close to tears. When he noticed you awake he asked you questions you didn’t know the answers to and claimed to be your husband. You had never been married and given the fact that he looked as though he hadn’t showered or slept in days, this was obviously a psych patient who had wandered into your room. But it wasn’t. The doctors could confirm, according to the paperwork and pictures, you were this man’s wife. He’d continued to be around you, he clearly wanted to help in any way he could but you couldn’t handle the way he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.
You had few memories, almost none of them were recent. Not even memories of your own identity were intact. Dissociative amnesia they called it. The staff stressed, to both you and this Logan guy, that your memories needed to come back on their own, he shouldn’t just tell you memories. He was allowed to help fill in details or answer small questions but that’s it. They said the best thing you could do right now would be to go back to your routine. They told him to act normal towards you as much as possible. You didn’t even know what that would look like. It was weird being addressed as a unit. Talked to like he was ‘your other half’ or whatever people say.
“Here is the form. Either of you can fill it out, I’ll just need both of your signatures at the bottom.” The nurse’s words snap you back to reality. You nod and take the form. She checks your levels one last time before leaving you and the man alone in the room. You concentrate on the papers in front of you. You first take the pen off the clip board with your left hand then look at it confused. You stare a moment before shifting it to your right hand, then back to your left before just setting it down again and leaning over the small table as you breathe out slowly.
“You’re right handed.” The man said quietly.
You look over at him. He sits on your left side. His knees are wide apart as he leans his body forward resting his forearms on his thighs with his fingers interlaced. He was watching you struggle with the pen. You nod slowly and pick up the pen with your right hand this time. You adjust your hand to hold it properly. It feels no more comfortable than in your left but you had to start somewhere. Okay first blank, patient name. Easy enough. You write your first name, middle initial, and-
You stop in your tracks. If you’re married, you wouldn’t necessarily have the same last name that you remember. You sit and think for a moment, determined to figure it out but you keep drawing a blank. An owl was the only thing that came to your mind when you thought of your last name. You bit the inside of your cheek before you sighed frustratedly. You put the pen back on the clipboard and slid the small table towards the man.
“Can you do this?” He perked up at your words.
“Yes- of course”
A small smile showed on his face as he took the clipboard, apparently happy to help. He filled in the blanks quickly as if he didn’t even have to think about the answers. Jealousy and shame flowed into your chest. Jealous that this random man knows you better than you know yourself. Shameful because of the pressure you’re already putting on yourself. You’ve always been independent. You like it that way. You like being known as the girl who has a man because she wants one not because she needs something from one. But now, you have no choice but to put your entire trust in someone you don’t know. Trust that he was going to tell you the truth about yourself. Trust he was going to remember what meds you needed and when to take them. Trust he was going to keep you safe both from yourself and someone who might want to take advantage of your current situation. The vulnerability it took to ask for help was already wearing away at your self esteem.
“Think that’s it. I’ll go bring this to the-”
“Wait, can I look at it first” Your hesitation was evident by the little shake in your voice.
“Sure but I promise, I know most of this by heart. And the stuff I didn’t know I got a refresher for when I filled out your admission forms.” He said it, clearly trying to make conversation but it only made you feel worse. You scanned over the form. Your birthday was the only thing you remembered, aside from your name but you didn’t even remember all of that so it didn’t quite feel the same.
“Howlett” You read the name off the sheet. It felt strange to say, even more so to think it now belonged to you.
“Yeah, that’s our last name.” You nodded and handed the form back and buried your head in your knees.
“What’s wrong? Are you starting to feel worse again?” You took a pause before answering him. When you raised your head, his eyes met yours and he could see tears welling up in them.
“I don’t even know my own stupid name- or my dominant hand. I feel so useless.” Logan set the form back on the table and knelt at your bedside.
“Hey, you are not useless. You’re sick right now, don’t be too hard on yourself. I’m here and I’ll help you with anything you need. I promise. I can help fill in what you don’t know”
“Thanks.. I know you’re trying to make me feel better but knowing that you know all this and I don’t, really only makes me feel worse. This guy I don’t even know knows more about me than I do.” You could immediately see the pain on his face from your statement. Another reminder that he was included in the gaps that still needed to be filled in.
“It- It’ll come back to you. You’ll be back to yourself in no time.” He said as he stood up. It sounded like the statement was just as much to comfort him as it was to comfort you.
“I’ll be right back.” You nodded and he left the room with the clipboard.
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You changed into the clothes Logan brought you. When you were all set to leave, you were told about your follow up appointment and picked up your meds. The two of you left the hospital and walked to Logan’s truck in the parking lot. He opened the door for you and held out his arm behind you as you climbed in to ensure you wouldn’t fall. You took note of the sweet gesture. Once he got into the drivers side, he slung the backpack that had held your clothes and now held your collection of meds onto the backseat. The drive was silent for a while before you broke the ice.
“I can not believe I married a man who drives a truck.” You half-joked as your fingers played with the wedding ring you still wore.
He smiled a little sadly, both amused at your distaste for truck owners and saddened at the reminder that you didn’t remember the man you married. He swallowed down his sadness to joke with you.
“Yeah? And what kind of man would you marry?” His unexpected response made you blush.
“Well, I don’t know.. Honestly I haven’t given it much thought. I guess I’m just not the marriage type.” Logan laughed quietly.
“Yeah- I guess you’d know that already.”
“No, no. It’s not that. It’s just funny that you think you’re the one who wasn’t marriage material. Normally people think that about me, not you.”
“Don’t be close minded- maybe neither of us are marriage material! Maybe those are the kinds that marry each other. I doubt most of those relationships last long though..” You regretted the words as soon as you realized what you had said.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sure we’re very happy.” You bit your lip and kept your eyes glued to your hands twiddling in your lap.
Logan didn’t know what to say so he opted to say nothing. The sound of the running engine and the wind outside the vehicle were the only sounds between you. Your thoughts were swarming in your mind. You turned your eyes to the window, trying to turn off your brain and just observe the unfamiliar scenery. Trees consumed the road on either side. You saw on the form that you lived in New York in some town you hadn’t heard of.
“So how far into the woods do we live?” You turn back towards him as you said it.
“Close enough to walk into town but far enough that we don’t see our neighbors unless we’re trying to.”
You nodded and made a sound of acknowledgement.
“That’s why you smell like pine?”
“Uh, I guess. Didn’t realize I did. I guess I’m just used to it.”
“That would make sense.” You lost interest in the conversation when you realized you had turned onto a side road. From the side road you went up a driveway.
He wasn’t kidding, if you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t know there was anyone even remotely close. Trees seemed to swallow you whole as you approached the house.
“Look familiar?” He asked tentatively. You studied the outside of the house then the inside as you pulled into the garage. You wanted to say yes but in reality it looked entirely foreign.
“No, sorry.” You answered softly.
“That’s alright, I was just curious.” He tried to keep the longing sadness from his voice. He was not successful. He grabbed the backpack and left the truck. You followed him but your eyes couldn’t help traveling over the room. You stepped inside the house and mirrored Logan as he took off his boots and placed them behind the door.
He watched your movements as you hesitantly followed him. He smiled at the realization that you were almost acting like a puppy dog, eager to take in information and follow instructions but still tentative about both him and the surroundings.
“I should probably show you around,”
“Yes, please.”
It was a split level house. He showed you the basement first. The guest room, storage room, furnace room, a mostly unused living room. He explained small things about each room when necessary. As you headed back up the stairs you felt brave enough to ask more questions.
“So we live alone? Just the two of us?”
“Yeah, why?”
“No pets? No family? No transient friends that feel comfortable enough to invite themselves over when they need a place to stay? Nothing?” Your question made Logan visibly nervous. He now stood across from you as you stood at the top of the steps.
“Uh, no. Not really. Why?” His confusion was mixing with anxiety.
“No reason.”
“..Are you uncomfortable staying alone with me?” His expression looked sad but understanding.
“Oh no, not that. Well a little. But no, that’s not why I asked.” He was silent waiting for you to explain, which you did when the silence became too uncomfortable. You forced your eyes to stay on his when you finally spoke.
“I’m just worried about you. You’re dealing with a lot, you should be with other people. People who care about you and know how to take your mind off everything. I just don’t want you to burn yourself out trying to do all this alone.” Your words hit him like a train. You were the one who was sick and you still worried about him, even when he was a complete stranger to you. He looked like he could cry. He took a half step towards you before stopping himself,
“Can I hug you?”
You nodded as you took a step closer to him, embracing him. His large arms engulfed your shoulders. He held you close like you might spontaneously vanish if he didn’t anchor you to himself. Your arms came around to his upper back where you rubbed his back lightly, trying to comfort him. When your nails softly scratched against his shirt, his face nuzzled deeper into your neck. You couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. Not that you cared either way, you understood. You couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling. This large, strange, kind man had completely bent himself over backwards just to take care of you. The least you could do is try and comfort him. The two of you stood there for longer than either of you thought you would. He gave you one final squeeze before parting. He kept his hands on your shoulders for a second as he looked at you. He sniffed as he looked away and took a few steps back.
“Sorry.” His breathing was unsteady.
“Don’t be.” You shrugged. “You’re allowed to be sad. You’re kind of grieving, in a way.” Your words were meant to be comforting as much as forcing him to face the reality of the situation.
“Don’t say that, you’re going to remember. It just takes time.” There was a desperation in his voice. Like he was trying to convince you both.
“I know. I’m not saying I won’t. But right now, you’re living with someone who doesn’t know you.. The woman you know, the woman you love, is as good as dead. As of right now anyways.” He studied your face as you said it and nodded after you’d finished speaking. He bridged the gap between the two of you once more to press a kiss onto your forehead. He sighed but didn’t pull away from you when he spoke.
“Let me finish showing you around.” He whispered the words warmly against your skin.
“Okay.” You whispered in return.
As promised, he showed you the living room, kitchen, and dining area; all close together at the top of the steps. Down the hall there was a bathroom, an office, and finally your shared bedroom. He lets you walk into the room, he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. You cautiously walked around the room, taking everything in. The walls were a calm green that paired well with the browns and yellows of most other things in the room. On the nightstand closest to the door there was an assortment of crystals, papers, wire wrapped shells, chapstick, handwritten notes, bracelets sitting inside a teacup, a clock, and a pair of glasses. You turned back to Logan.
“This is my side of the bed?” He nodded. You opened the drawers of your nightstand. Books, sleeping meds, pen and paper, nothing of interest upon first glance. You walked over to the other side, glancing back at Logan, searching his face for permission to poke around. You couldn’t read his expression.
“Mind if I snoop?”
“Go ahead. It’s all stuff you’ve seen before.”
You tried to turn your full attention to his nightstand but you could see him move out of the corner of your eye. He entered what you assumed was the closet, which was currently behind you. Back to trying to learn about Logan through how he kept his things. His nightstand was less cluttered than yours. There was a notepad and pen, reading glasses, a clock matching yours, and three pictures of you. One was in a frame, one was a polaroid, and the last one was printed out, you’d guess from a digital camera. All pictures were in places you didn’t remember with people you didn’t recognize. You looked happy. The picture in a frame was from your wedding. Logan and you were all dressed up, looking at each other. Although it was clear the two of you were posing, your smiles seemed genuine. The other two were candids, laughing with friends in one while in the other your face held a look of recognition like someone took the photo right as you saw the camera. You were happy or relieved to see whoever was holding the camera. You guessed Logan himself based on your relationship and where you found the photo.
“Sorry,” He moved past you and set his phone on his nightstand.
“I’m going to go shower. You’re welcome to as well, I’ll shower downstairs so if you want to, the option is there. Or wait until later, I just don’t want to smell like the hospital anymore”
“Yeah I will probably take you up on that, where do I keep my clothes?”
He directed you to where you keep your pajamas as well as showing you to your half of the closet, pointing out where you keep underwear and socks.
“Let me know if you need anything.” You nodded and thanked him. He went downstairs. You felt like looking around some more. A bin of stuffed animals under your side of the bed. Saw the books on the shelves in the office. Check out the cupboards, familiarize yourself with where things belong. Out the kitchen window, the woods catch your eye. You feel a sudden urge to go walking in the wet grass. You look towards the lower level then back at the back door. You’d surely be back before he was out of the shower. You just needed to indulge this feeling. Then you’d come right back. It’s midday, it’s not like it is dangerous at this hour.
You step out onto the patio. You walked in the directions you felt pulled in. Following some imaginary trail, bare feet sinking into the puddles in the grass. It had been an especially wet April and the heavy clouds overhead suggested tonight would follow the trend. You found a hammock in a small clearing not far from the house. You sat upright on it, like a swing. You crossed your ankles and leaned forward, palms placed beside your knees, pressing onto the fabric beneath you. The silence felt comfortable. You relaxed more than you had been in recent days. The silence allowed your mind to wander through your thoughts just as you had through the trees. The calm around you soon contrasted with the spiraling thoughts that took over your mind. It didn't feel like you had forgotten anything but logically, you knew years had passed since the last things you remember. Logically you knew Logan had to know you intimately and clearly cared deeply for you but, you didn't know how to make yourself return his feelings. There was guilt in not being who you were apparently supposed to be. You hated the pained look in his eyes he when stared at you. The hot tears that rolled down your face contrasted with the cool air around you. Your face hung down and your eyes traced the ground through blurred vision. You felt like you had been sitting here for hours. Your thoughts drowned out the once comfortable silence and along with it, Logan's panicked voice in the distance. He stumbled into the clearing.
"Jesus-” He huffed, catching his breath. “Don't run off like that. What the hell are you doing out here? How did you know where this was? Did you remember something?"
His rapid fire questions and loud voice were overwhelming.
"N-no, I don't know. I just felt like this is where I should go. I didn't mean to worry you- please don't yell at me" your plea took him by surprise as he realized his worry made him louder than he intended. He took a quick step towards you and you unconsciously flinched. He took care to make the last steps toward you slower before he crouched down so he was looking up at you. There was a gentleness that now replaced the panic in his voice.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.. I didn't know where you were or what happened. I just- you're not yourself right now, even if you had your memories, you still have a brain injury. I just don't want you to get lost. At least if you're going to go exploring, leave a note?"
You nodded and wiped away tears from your face.
"Do you want me to leave you alone out here for a while?"
"No, I'll come in with you.. I really don't know why I came out here, it just felt like I should. I don't know why." You still tried to explain yourself as you got up from your spot. Logan stood up and started leading towards the house.
"Maybe subconsciously you remember coming out here."
"Maybe.. I don't know why I would. It's not exactly nice out."
"You didn't just go when it was nice, you like being out there when you feel upset. Sometimes if we have a fight you'll go sit out there for a while. Sometimes you're upset with someone else and you drag me out there with you and tell me about it. You just don't like bringing that stuff home."
"Oh. Am I out there a lot?"
"No, not really. Sometimes you have a bad week and you'll be out a few days in a row but that's not very common. Just once in a blue moon, as you'd say." He smiles at the memory as he opens the door for you. You step in and dry your feet on the mat. He takes off his shoes and carries them to the front door. As he walked off you noticed his hair was wet and a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants had replaced his flannel and jeans from the hospital. You could really see how muscular he was through his shirt that hugged him tighter than the flannel did.
“You look better than you did at the hospital.”
“Hm? Oh, thanks.”
“Don't get me wrong you pull off the disheveled look but now you look better, like people wouldn't worry about you if they saw you like this.”
“Not sure that's the compliment you think it is.” He smiled as he said it.
“I'm aware. Still felt like you should hear it.”
“Whatever you say. Do you still want to shower now or do you want to wait until later tonight?”
“No, I'll just get in now.”
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You leaned your face towards the bottle of the more feminine looking soap, assuming it was yours, trying to use it as an olfactory trigger. It didn’t work. You got out of the shower and dried your hair in front of the mirror and something caught your eye. Your skin carried stories in the form of deep scars that decorated your body. Old bullet wounds and healed cuts lied among the new gashes and scratches from your accident. You ran your hands over some of the small lines of scar tissue, unsure if you wanted to know the stories they had to tell. You rewrapped your bandages. The bandages and cuts from your accident made you glad to have such baggy pajamas.
You left the bathroom after getting dressed and found Logan laying on your side of the bed, staring at the ceiling. He sat up when you came into the room, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
“Oh, hey- Sorry I know this is your side, I just-” He stumbled over his words while trying to justify his actions but you cut him off.
“You don’t need to explain, it’s alright.” You gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. The kind you’d give a stranger who held a door for you.
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You spend the rest of the evening on the couch, doodling next to Logan as he reads some papers. Neither of you spoke. Eventually it came time for you to go to bed, forcing the two of you into conversation.
“I can sleep in the guest room, if you’d be more comfortable that way.” He offered as he walked you to the bedroom.
“That’s all the way downstairs, right?” You looked up at him as you sat on the bed.
“Yes.”
“Then no..” You paused after saying it.
“I can stay up here on the couch if you want me to be closer. Whatever you want.”
You shook your head adamantly. “Not whatever I want, I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”
“Baby, I would be happy as a clam at high tide just sleeping on the floor at the foot of our bed.” The way the pet name so easily left his lips made you blush.
“W-well- you can be just as happy sleeping in your own bed.” He sighed in defeat before nodding.
“Alright. I can do that.” He shut the door behind him as he walked into the room.
“Given your apprehension to stay in the same bed, I assume it goes without saying but, I still don’t know you.. For you, you’re sleeping next to your wife but for me, I’m sleeping next to this man I met yesterday.. I just..” You trailed off.
“I’ll stay on my side of the bed, no problem.” He finished your thought casually.
“Thanks..”
“Of course, I just want you to feel comfortable and safe in your own home.”
“That.. means a lot. Thank you Logan.” He nodded before shutting off the lamp on his side of the bed.
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It wasn’t a particularly cold night but you still felt a chill creep over your skin under the blankets. To your memory, you had slept alone most nights so this was what you were used to. So why did you feel more alone than ever with Logan less than a foot away? You could feel the heat ghosting off his skin even from where you laid. The loneliness sank into your chest making you feel colder than you actually were. You mentally fought yourself, it was only a few hours ago that you were telling him not to touch you and now you were considering asking him to put his arm around you? Talk about mixed messages. What if he was the type of guy to take approval to cross one boundary as approval to do whatever he wanted? What if he thought this meant you had your memories again? What if-
Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of Logan sighing quietly as he rolled over and shifted to get comfortable. He was awake. If you were going to ask, now would be the best time, right? You gathered your courage before you spoke.
“Logan?” You asked barely at a whisper.
“Hm?” His sleepy reply made you feel guilty for bothering him.
“Could you- .. I mean if you wanted to you could- you don’t have to but.. Um. Would you put your arm around me?”
“You want me to hold you?”
“I mean.. Only if you want to. I just- It’s cold over here and I can feel the heat coming off of you and I- .. I just feel so lonely for some reason.” Your voice dropped even quieter as you ended your statement.
“Yes, of course I will. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like; you’re allowed to push me back over to my side, alright?” You nodded as he pulled you into his broad chest. He felt warm and comforting. He kept his hand innocently at your abdomen. The two of you both slept the best you had all week. Tangled together like lovers.
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Author's second note! Thank you for reading my first true fanfiction that's been put on Beyoncé's public internet for anyone to judge. Speaking of judging I'm very open to feedback if you have any.
I want to have the next part up soon but tragically, I have two big projects coming up not to mention finals week. College is eating me alive so we'll see when I string enough coherent sentences together the next part.
PS I'm still trying to figure out pictures so that's why these three at at the bottom. If I figure it out, I'll add them at the top but uhhh we'll see
I FIGURED IT OUT LETS GOO
#fanfiction#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine fluff#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett xmen#x men#we'll never have sex#a man being soft and sweet? my weakness!!
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Behind Closed Doors
Pt. 2
Smoke x Black!OC

Here’s part two!!! I’ve been working on this all day, so I’m a little drained. Please excuse any typos, or too many repeated phrases. I would really appreciate any feedback, your girl is new to this not true to this, so anything will help! Anyways! I hope yall enjoy!!
The next morning Jane awoke to the smell of breakfast wafting through her apartment. She sat up in bed, blinking a few times, trying to clear her foggy, sleepy mind. Smoke’s side of the bed lacked warmth, the sheets cool and undisturbed.
Jane swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet making contact with the cold floor sent a small shiver up her spine as she grabbed her silk robe. The fabric glided over her shoulders while she slid her feet into some fuzzy slippers and opened the door.
Her feet padded against the floor as she made her way towards the kitchen. Her head empty until Smoke was in her view. She paused and watched him for a moment, admiring the way the sunlight working beautifully with the smooth brown skin of his back.
He stood over the stove, frying what she declared to be an egg. His movements were slow, deliberate; Smoke always took his time with everything he did. Everything was calculated and strategically thought out.
Disrupting Jane from her train of thought, Smoke finally spoke.
“Sit.” It was firm and low. He didn’t bother speaking, focused on the sizzling pan in front of him.
Jane complied without hesitation. Sliding into a chair at the table. She could feel the tension from his words, but she relished in his instructions. There was an ease in obeying his words, a comfort in the way he spoke, even when the weight of his tone dripped heavy with expectation.
His voice always gave her a sense of direction, grounding her in moments where everything felt unsteady.
She watched him finish cooking, the smooth flex of his muscles working harmoniously with his steady movements. Watching him, her thoughts to drift back to their tense conversation from last night. Smoke’s questioning still lingering in her mind.
She thought hard about why Smoke was making breakfast. Was it out of guilt? Or was it some way for him to ease her into finishing the discussion he tried to have yesterday.
The burner clicked off, snapping her back to the present. He turned around, dark eyes pooling with intensity and sat the plate in front of her with a firm thump.
“Eat.” He commanded with a soft but yielding tone, head motioning toward the plate.
Jane looked down at her food, a steamy fried egg, crispy bacon, and a piece of bread toasted lightly. The plate looked good, something she would’ve gladly enjoyed any other day. But she didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment. Her mind was too busy trying not to think about everything from last night.
Either way, she picks up a fork and began to eat. Always obeying any order from Smoke.
She picks at a piece the egg before taking her first bite chewing slowly. She was nervous, feeling Smoke watch her like a hawk. The food wasn’t bad, it was actually pretty good. But it didn’t settle in her stomach well. In fact, each bite sat heavy.
But that didn’t stop Jane, she continued to eat, avoiding looking up.
Smoke watched her. His eyes practically beaming into Jane made her want to shrink back into herself. She could feel the way his eyes lingered on her—judging, waiting. That same look that could strip her bare without a word. Reminding her of how deep his hold ran on her.
Jane wanted to say something, just to break the silence, but every time she glanced at him, she dropped her eyes back down to the plate.
She couldn’t take this, her nerves were too raw, and it was beginning to show in her fluttering hands. She set the fork down with a sharp clink nudging the plate away from her.
Smoke said nothing at first. He simply stared, an unwavering gaze. Waiting for her to speak, or crack.
Finally, when the weight of the world seemed to nearly crush her into the ground, he spoke.
“You feel like talking yet?” His voice was low and smooth.
Jane’s heart skipped. She knew their discussion from last night was bound to happen, she just didn’t expect it to be fresh off the wake up. Then again, it was Smoke. He wasn’t the type to wait around for answers.
Jane glanced at him, his stance relaxed and dominant. Leaning against the counter with crossed arms. He looked like a force of nature, watching her from above.
She cleared her throat, gathering herself before responding. “Can I get something to drink baby? My throat is dry.”
Smoke’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing as he walked to the fridge. Grabbing a carton of orange juice out and pouring Jane a small cup.
“Thank you.” She said softly, offering a small smile.
“Save it baby.” He replied dismissively. “Answer my question.”
Jane’s smile faded, her nerves fraying. She was tired the back and forth. The weight of this whole situation had been crushing her, and she was ready to get back to normal, to get back to loving her man.
“Um, well… Bernice called me, and said she saw you at the club.” Jane’s voice thick with hesitation.
Smoke had no response. Gaze never wavering as he waited for her to continue.
“With another woman.” The words stung her mouth as they left her lips. She was annoyed with herself for feeling hurt, for dripping with jealousy. She was his mistress, she had no right to feel this way.
Smoke face was unreadable. But Jane could see something in his eyes. Something dark and calculating.
“And you believed her?”
Jane’s eyebrows furrowed.
Jane stiffened, a flicker of anger sparking her eyes. “What? Why wouldn’t I believe her?” She shot back, voice tinged with offense. Bernice had always been there for her, always told her the truth.
She had been Jane’s first friend when she moved to Chicago, always looking out for her, protecting and guiding her. Bernice never lied to her, and she couldn’t imagine why she would start now.
Smoke said nothing, eyes holding hers, unblinking. His silence stretched long enough to make her question herself.
“You believe everything she tell you?” His voice quiet, but dangerous.
“Yes?” Her voice held less conviction than she intended, her stare sounding more like a question than anything.
“How you know she ain’t lying.”
Jane’s frown deepened. “Why would she lie?”
Smoke kept watching her.
“Bernice ain’t never lie to me before. Why would she start now?” Jane frustratedly continued.
“You tell me.”
“What?” Jane exclaimed, rolling her eyes in frustration.
“Why she worried bout what she think I’m doing”
“Ain’t nobody worried bout you Smoke.” Jane snapped. “She was just looking out for me”
“By running her mouth on what she thought she saw”
“She ain’t run her mouth. She was just letting me know what she saw.”
“For what? I ain’t yo business.”
Jane paused, her breath catching in her throat. Right. Smoke wasn’t her business. He wasn’t even her man.
Her fingers clenched around the edge of the table as his words sank in. She felt her chest tighten, and a lump form in her throat. She couldn’t believe Smoke would say that to her. As if what they had meant nothing.
With a frustrated scoff, Jane stood up, her chair scraping against the floor, a harsh sound that echoed through the apartment. She didn’t spare Smoke an another glance as she stormed to her bedroom. Slippers slapping angrily against the wooden floor with each step.
Deep down her heart was hammering. She didn’t want to keep arguing with him. Not when the possibility of losing him could happen at any moment. But he had pushed her too far this time.
Smoke smirked at her outburst, shaking his head as the door slammed behind her. The sound rattling through the walls. Smoke pushed off the counter, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he approached the door.
“Storming off like a lil ass girl ain’t gon end this conversation Jane.” His firm voice cut through the door.
Silence.
Inside the room, her pulse raced, anger surging through her veins. He wasn’t her business? Then what the hell was he? He sure as hell wasn’t no stranger off the street.
She yanked her closet door open, grabbing Smoke’s shirts and ripping them off their hangers with sharp, furious tugs.
He heard her chaos through the door, the sharp clatter of hangers and rustling fabrics. Smoke couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her theatrics.
He twisted the doorknob and stepped inside, only for a crumbled shirt to come flying at his head. He swiftly stepped out the way, avoiding the shirt as it smacked against the doorframe and fell to the floor.
“Cut that shit out Jane.” He growled, patience thinning.
Jane turned to him, breath coming in sharp shallow bursts, eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Fuck you Smoke.” Her voice trembled with fury. “Get your shit and get out.” She snatched another armful of clothes, chucking them in his direction without care.
He just stood there, letting her tire herself out.
“You not my business?” She snapped, a hanger clutched in her hand, trembling as she pointed it at him. “I guess fucking me through that mattress every night, in the apartment you put me in, don’t mean shit, right?” She flung the hanger at the wall beside him.
Smoke just stood there, watching her with those dark eyes, unblinking. He let her dig her own hole, knowing she’d come running back to him. Smoke never had to say anything, it wasn’t necessary. The control he had over her, the way he could make her so hot and then leave her to simmer down. He knew how to play her like no one else could.
There was something about his calm demeanor that made her blood boil. She turned to him again, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Her fists clinched so tight she could feel the blood draining from her fingers.
Heat licked up her spine, every nerve on edge. She didn’t know if she was angry with him, herself, or both.
“Go ahead, tear it all down if it makes you feel better.” He didn’t raise his voice, or let his temper slip. Smoke’s way too calculated for that. But his jaw tightened, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes for just a second.
Jane’s chest heaved, rage and heartbreak stirring inside her. She took shaky steps back, a shirt slipping from her grasp. Smoke followed, his hand catching her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“But you really gonna let her tell you what’s true?” he asked, voice rough, almost too quiet. “You trust her more than you trust me?”
“She’s never lied to me.” Jane shot back. “But you got every reason to lie. You do it enough to your wife.” Her voice trembled.
Smoke’s eyes narrowed, his pulse quickening.
“Think about what you sayin.” He murmured. “You think I’d slip up like that? Or you just believing her cause it fit the story you done wrote in your head.” His thumb brushed her jawline, a deliberate expression that felt comforting, yet cautionary.
Jane’s eyes were a mix of anger and uncertainty. She wanted to push him away, to break free from this hold he had on her. But she couldn’t, his warmth, his calloused thumb brushing her face.. shit she ain’t wanna move.
“I ain’t stupid Smoke. I know what this is.”
Smoke kissed her forehead, a gesture that almost felt comforting. “Then act like it.” He whispered. “Stop lettin other people put thoughts in your head.”
“You didn’t have to throw it in my face like that.” Her voice cracked.
“I ain’t throwin it in your face. But if you gon question me over some he-say she-say bullshit, I’m gon remind you where we stand”
A tear slipped down her cheek. Her head dropped, feeling like a child being scolded. “I just wanted you to tell me the truth.” She hated feeling like this.
“And I been trying to, you just too caught up in your feelings to hear me.” His firm grip on her chin, slipped to her cheek, wiping the tear away. “You understand?” He asked.
Jane nodded. This happened every damn time. He twisted things until she felt like she was the villain of the story. But maybe she had really overreacted this time, and she had to admit, the whole thing was immature.
She was losing her mind over something she didn’t even see for herself. It was a huge waste of time, and they only had a limited amount of time with each other anyway.
Jane swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper when she muttered “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing, maybe because she realized she couldn’t hold the weight of her anger alone anymore. She wrapped herself around him, letting him absorb the words she couldn’t say.
Smoke smirked. “It’s okay baby, you know I can’t stay mad at you for long.”
Jane smiled, letting the tension disperse as she melted into his embrace. His voice, especially that tone he spoke to her in, it was all so familiar, so comfortable. She pressed a kiss to his lips, trying to burn the fire heating inside her.
Smoke met her kiss, hand slipping to her waist, fingers tightening as he pulled her closer. Their kiss deepened each second, his hand on her cheek controlling her movement. His dominance, usually sharp, felt a bit gentler now, just how she liked it. He had her wrapped around his finger, and they both knew it.
“All that fussin for nothin.” His lips barely left hers, the whisper a kiss itself. Before she could respond Smoke’s hands traveled quickly, lifting her off her feet. Jane’s laugh bubbled, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, fingers cradling his face.
“You cleanin this up when I’m done with you.” He muttered, his smirk almost predatory, but he held that rare softness in his eyes that she came to love. Everything was in his control again, like always.
He carefully assessed a situation, and handled it with ease. But deep down, Jane knew better. She knew he tricked her, once again. But she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She would never be able to resist Smoke.
If you made it this far THANK YOU for reading!! I would appreciate any comments and suggestions/feedback. ❤️❤️
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#sinners#sinners 2025#elijah moore#sinners fanfiction#smoke moore#smoke x black!oc#michael b jordan#smoke x annie#stack and smoke#smoke au#sinners au#elijah smoke moore#atouchofaries୨୧#behind closed doors
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