#they’re friendly…I promise

[sneakypunmaster]

Who doesn’t speak to the fish?

What do you call a fish with no eyes? A fshhh!

I’m sorry @pillowspace but this is all I could think of when reading that part of chapter 4

[miraclewoozi]

at what point do the masses realise that this is soul crushing

[imaginedisish]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This took way longer than expected, and I also sort of got carried away...Hope it still lives up to the requester's expectations (I also saw that the anon asked for fluff...and this ended up being fluff and smut...hope that's okay). Def some errors...I only proofread twice. This one is also inspired by "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan's kindness towards you is strictly friendly. Until it's not just friendly anymore...

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Unprotected PIV, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (uh, they're outside...), grumpy!Logan, cursing, major angst, comfort, fluff, references to canon typical violence/death/conflicts, f!reader/afab!reader (reader has hair at the nape of her neck but no description of length/texture/color), mutant!reader, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,662 my back hurts

It had been a long day. Every day was a long day. There were the kids to worry about, and then there was the rest of the world. There’s a war coming, you see it everywhere you look, and hear it everywhere you go. The news. The papers. The kids whispering in hushed echoes late at night when you’re walking the halls sleeplessly. You don’t want a war. You want a life. 

The mansion is still bustling—it always is—but it’s slowly winding down. You listen as kids walk up the stairs in waves, heading into their bedrooms for the night. You know you should too, but you like it when the mansion gets quiet. You like knowing that everyone is safe, tucked away. You like it when no one else is around—when you can be alone, the stillness and quiet of a dark and sleeping house cradling you like a mother.  

You find yourself in one of the living rooms, the T.V. still on, playing reruns of a cartoon you recognize from years ago. You smile as laughter erupts from down the hall, the padding of small feet echoing along the floorboards and the sound of much heavier boots following close behind. 

“Hey! Watch it!” A grumpy, familiar voice shouts as kids run past the doorway to the living room, giggling mischievously. “Fucking kids.” You turn towards the sound of Logan’s voice as it bounces off the walls, his frame entering the doorway. 

He has a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other as he strides over to you. 

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, smiling up at him. He’s in his beater and his jeans and that leather jacket that hugs him just the right way. You try not to think about how good he looks as he places the plate and the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. Friends don’t think about friends like that, and that’s all you two are: friends.

“Thought you might want a snack,” he mumbles, pointing to the cookies. “And maybe someone to talk to. You’ve got that look on your face.”

You roll your eyes, staring at him incredulously. “What look?”

“That sleepy, stressed face you make,” he starts, walking around the coffee table and taking the spot on the couch right next to you. “When you’re listening to everyone, making sure they’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for a cookie. Logan sits up and grabs the glass of milk, extending it out to you. “Really, I am,” you promise, but you know he can tell that you’re lying. 

You take the glass from him, and his hand falls to your thigh. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating. He works his jaw and opens his mouth. “What’s going on—”

“Logan?” Storm cuts him off, standing in the doorway. Her gaze is focused on Logan’s hand resting on your thigh. “Did you make tea?”

His eyes flicker between you and Storm. You tilt your head, waiting for his response. “Yes,” he answers, his hand lifting from your thigh as he stands. The spot is suddenly cold. You want to grab his hand and yank him back down. 

“Well, the water is about to boil,” she says, smirking as the kettle begins to whistle. 

Logan mutters a quick shit under his breath as he prowls out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. Storm giggles as she watches him, shaking her head. She squints at the cookies and milk, and then at you. You nervously place the milk back down on the coffee table.

“Wow,” is all she says, her arms crossing her chest as she leans against the frame of the doorway. You can hear Logan shuffling around the kitchen, closing cabinets and cursing. “All this for you, huh?”

Your jaw drops just a bit at her words, their meaning instantly smacking you in the face. “O-oh, no,” you stutter defensively. “It’s not like that.” 

The conversation quickly ends as Logan walks into the living room with a cup of tea, passing Storm and heading to the couch. He sits down next to you and places the tea in front of you. The tag of the tea bag hangs over the side of the mug, steam wafting off the top.  

“You like tea, right?” He asks as you lean over and grab the warm mug in your hands. The heat feels good, but not as good as when his hand was on your thigh. 

You nod, swallowing those feelings down as you blow into the cup to cool the hot liquid inside. “Thanks, Logan.” You smile, and he smiles back. 

Storm is still in the doorway, a soft laugh stuck in her throat. “I’ll leave you two alone.” And before you can protest, she’s gone, her heels clicking down the hardwood floors of the hallway. 

Alone now with Logan, you can’t help but feel nervous. You bring the mug to your lips and finally take a sip, the hot tea dripping down your throat. Was Storm right? No. This is just a friend looking out for a friend. There’s no deeper meaning. So what if Logan brought you cookies and milk? So what if he made tea for you? He’s just being nice, kind, caring. That’s what he always is…to you at least. Maybe only to you—

“Hey, everything okay?” Logan’s voice yanks you back to reality, his palm suddenly warm on your thigh again. You jump at the sensation, accidentally spilling tea on Logan’s hand and all over your thighs. 

“Shit,” you mutter, the liquid stinging just a bit against your bare skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say, placing the cup down on the coffee table. When you look back up, Logan is gone. You can hear scuffling in the kitchen again, drawers opening and slamming closed. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Logan?” Scott’s voice chastises in the distance. 

Logan scoffs, his footsteps echoing against the tile floors. “Fuck off, Summers,” he chides, and you can’t help but laugh at their bickering. 

“Think that’s funny?” Logan teases, suddenly in front of you. He rushes over, kneeling next to you. He has a towel in his hand. “You okay?” He asks. “Anything hurt?”

You shake your head from side to side. “Nope, all good,” you say, grinning, ready for him to pass you the towel. But he doesn’t—he’s cleaning you up himself. 

He rubs the towel gently across your thighs, sopping up all the tea. His touch is soft and careful. You can feel heat rise to your chest at the closeness—the intimacy of it all. You take a deep breath, struggling to calm your heart as he takes his time taking care of you. 

“You sure you’re alright?” He whispers, his eyes suddenly searching yours. The towel hikes up a bit further, the tip brushing against the hem of your shorts. You’re dizzied by his touch, by the comforting way he smiles up at you as he lets the towel fall to the side. Both of his hands are on you now, one on each thigh. His thumbs brush soft shapes into your skin. 

Just friends, you say to yourself. Just friends just friends just—

“Hey gu—oh,” Bobby stutters, standing in the doorway with Peter. “S-sorry to interrupt. We didn’t mean to—”

“What do you two want?” Logan cuts him off, his hands slipping off your thighs as he stands to face the boys. You can hear the gruff annoyance in this voice. “No privacy in this goddamn mansion,” he mutters under his breath so low you almost don’t hear it. 

“Charles told us to come get you, Logan,” Bobby continues nervously. “He has to talk to you about something.” 

Logan groans, irritated as ever. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be there in a second.” 

Bobby and Peter nod, too nervous to say anything else, and walk away. Logan is still standing in the same spot. You can tell he’s thinking, contemplating something. 

“You better go,” you say, cocking your head towards the hall. “Can’t keep the professor waiting,” you joke. You watch as the corner of his mouth twitches up. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of turning his frown into a smile. 

He turns his body so that he’s completely facing you. His throat bobs as his hands curl into fists at his sides. He looks like he’s holding back, resisting—but what? You can’t quite tell. 

“Logan?” Charles’ voice calls from down the hall. 

“I wanna see that plate clean when I get back,” Logan finally says, pointing to the cookies. 

You let out a laugh as he walks to the doorway. “Yes sir,” you pledge, hand on your heart. His smile widens, his eyes grazing up and down your body, as if committing your form to his memory. What you’re seeing can’t be right; it has to be an illusion. You almost think he doesn’t want to leave you—can’t leave you. His feet are planted on the ground, his arms tucked against his chest. 

He opens his mouth, but the Professor interrupts him before he can get a word in. “Logan!”

Logan steps out of the doorway impatiently, fists still clutched at his side. “Meet me on the lawn in thirty minutes, okay?” he huffs out, walking down the hallway towards Charles’ voice before you can give him an answer. Charles calls him again. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I hear you!” 

Thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes. You can—absolutely cannot—wait thirty minutes.

God. You are so lovesick.

Twenty-five minutes later you’re sitting out on the lawn, far away from the mansion, waiting for Logan, popping the last cookie into your mouth. 

You lay down on your back, the cold, wet grass sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a light breeze in the air, bending the green blades and the leaves of the trees back and forth. You look up at the stars, imagining just how hot they are, just how bright they can shine. 

“You finished the cookies!” Logan’s voice calls from a few feet away. You sit up, watching the shadow of his form make his way over to you. You can see the smile spread across his face as he reaches your slide, crouching down and sitting next to you. 

“Of course I did,” you say. He’s looking down at you, his eyes flickering across your face. You want to look away, but you can’t. It’s like he’s got you stuck there—he always does. He is the one thing you can’t resist. 

Logan’s shoulder bumps against yours, the sudden warmth reminding you just how cold you are. You shiver, crossing your arms and tucking them into your chest. 

You instinctively and involuntarily lean into his touch, searching for warmth. He catches on to what you’re doing before you do. “Cold?” He asks, shuffling a bit in his spot as he lifts his jacket.   

“O-oh no it’s okay you don’t—” But then he’s taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. 

“Better?” He asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulders too, inviting you to lean into him completely.

“Y-yeah,” You stutter, letting your head rest against his chest. You close your eyes, too nervous to keep them open. His jacket smells like him—pine and tobacco and musk. Every breath you take is intoxicating. He’s everywhere, flooding your senses. It’s overwhelming, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than with him. 

He sighs, his breath fanning against your forehead. “So, what’s the matter?” He asks, tugging you in tighter. 

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nothing,” you say, doing your best to be convincing. “I’m fine.” But you know it’s no use. He can see right through you. It’s like knowing when you’re lying is part of his mutation.

Logan raises his brows. “You’re stressed.” It isn’t a question, it’s a fact. “I could see it before, when we were inside. I can see it when you’re teaching the kids.” He rubs his hand up and down your arm, the feeling almost distracting you from his words. His eyes search yours for the truth, for an answer. “You can talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as those last three words replay in your mind. You swallow your nerves down, searching for the right thing to say. 

“What if we’re in danger?” You stumble over the sentence quickly, shooting it out into the air like it’s something you’ve wanted to get rid of for a long time. “What if the stupid war they’re always talking about comes, and we aren’t ready?” You can feel your heart racing, tears brimming behind your eyes. 

Logan presses a kiss to your forehead, the warm feeling of his lips unexpected but welcome. “Hey,” he coos, his lips still pressed against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

A tear slides down your cheek. The words come out like vomit, each syllable slipping off your tongue in rapid-fire succession. “But what if it’s not? What if I can’t protect the kids or the team or you for fuck’s sake?” You can’t stop the floodgates—tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You’re speaking between sobs now. “What if they get to us before we can convince them that mutants aren’t something to be wiped out or some disease to be cured? What if—” 

Logan’s arms wrap around your body, tugging you against his chest, pulling you as close as possible. “I’m not gonna let that happen,” he murmurs. “We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to be okay.” 

“H-how do you know?” You choke, your chest heaving against his. “What if—"

“No more what ifs,” he whispers, his hands rubbing against the leather of the jacket—his jacket—on your back. “No one’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“O-okay,” you mutter. “Gonna k-keep you safe, too.” 

Logan hums, the bassy timber of his voice filling your ears, calming your mind. “Don’t worry about me,” he pauses, one hand reaching up to the nape of your neck, rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there. “Just let me worry about you.” 

“Always gonna worry about you,” you say, not backing down. 

You can feel his heart beating against yours. “You don’t have to right now,” he soothes. “Let me take care of you.”

You don’t protest—don’t try to fight him this time. You let him pull you into his lap, let him hold you closer, let him play with the hair at the nape of your neck.  You can feel his lips on the crown of your head. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been before. He feels so good, so firm and solid underneath you, so steadfast and constant. He’s a lifeline, a necessity. A safe place—asylum. 

It has always been him that you need, and you’d be a liar to say otherwise. 

Logan finally breaks the silence. “What are you thinking about?” He asks.  You, you think. 

“Me?” What? 

“Did I just…” you trail off. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did,” he husks, his hands lowering down your back, slipping under the jacket and your thin t-shirt to the bare skin underneath. His palms are warm, and his touch is tentative, hesitant. “This okay?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, and Logan starts to draw patterns and shapes across your back. “Feels nice.” Your voice is soft and shaky as he explores your skin.  

“I’ve been thinking about you too, you know,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. His nails drag across your back. You move your legs to straddle him. “You’re the only thing on my mind, princess.” He presses his forehead to yours as if to show you, to prove to you that he’s telling the truth. You shudder at the words, at the thought. He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, lowering his lips until they’re just centimeters from yours. 

The world feels frozen. You’ve long forgotten you’re outside, the breeze cutting across the grass. You’ve forgotten about the stars twinkling above you. They’re nothing—just balls of heat burning out millions of miles away. You’ve forgotten about all the hatred you’re forced to face, all the variables and lives at stake in this stupid war. Your mind is calm. Everything is suddenly nothing. 

Everything is him. Logan. 

“Logan,” you mumble. It’s a plea, a prayer, a demand. And he knows exactly what you’re asking for as his name hangs in the air between the two of you. 

His lips crash down onto yours, tasting you, savoring you. But it isn’t languid or slow—it’s rushed, frantic, starving, as if your world is ending; it very well could be. He’s pushing you down onto the grass, his muscular arms on either side of your head, caging you in underneath him. 

“Wanted you this whole time,” he pants in between kisses. “Needed you, couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.” He pushes the jacket open with one of his hands and hitches your shirt up. He lowers himself onto his forearm as his nails drag up your stomach, settling just under your ribs. He spreads his palm, feeling the expanse of your skin, tracing your curves and the dips of your body.  

“F-fuck,” you stutter, arching your back off the grass and into his chest, offering more of yourself to him. 

He bites your lower lip and kisses the pain away. “You gonna let me take you right here?” He growls, his fingers playing with the hem of your bra. “Gonna let me fuck you outside, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whine, lifting your hips against his, feeling his erection straining in his jeans. “Need you, Lo.” 

He curses under his breath as he sits up, his hands pawing at the leather jacket, tearing it from your body and casting it aside. You sit up too, keeping yourself close to him. He’s yanking at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He takes off his beater next, but you don’t get the chance to admire him. Everything is a blur, the throwing of clothes, the way he’s shoving you back down to the grass as his fingers unclasp your bra. The straps fall down your arms, and Logan slips it off the rest of the way. 

He pauses, taking you in, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, lowering himself back down over you, balancing on one forearm as his free hand slides up your stomach, over your ribs, finally settling on your chest. He cups your tits, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over one nipple and then the other. 

“Perfect. You’re so goddamn perfect,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your chin. He continues his trail down to your jaw, your collarbone, the center of your chest. 

He takes a detour, his lips latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, his tongue flicking out and soothing the ache away. He kisses across the valley of your chest, bringing his mouth to the other side. He flits his tongue across your other nipple, and continues his trail down your stomach, peppering innocent kisses as he travels lower and lower. 

He stops at the hem of your shorts, looking up at you under hooded eyes. You can see the lust, the desire, the need. “Please,” you whimper. And then he’s hastily unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs and throwing them carelessly into the grass. 

Logan pushes your thighs open. “Keep your legs spread for me, sweetheart.” You can feel his breath on your clit. “Wanna taste you,” he rasps, kissing your core teasingly. “Wanna feel you come on my tongue.” 

And then his tongue is pushing through your folds, lapping at your juices, all the way up to your clit. It’s already too much, your hips lifting off the grass. Logan brings his arm across your hips in response, keeping you down. “Stay,” he grunts, his voice vibrating against your heat. “Don’t know where you think you’re going, princess.” He’s looking up at you now. You can see the desperation and the hunger in his eyes. 

He's starving for you.

He buries his face back into your cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds again before finally settling on your clit. He latches his lips around the bud, sucking harshly. He flicks his tongue out, drawing sweet, sacrilegious circles against your core. 

His free hand climbs up your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider for him. His nails ghost across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He finds his way to your folds, spreading your slick, teasing your entrance. You moan his name as he presses your squirming hips down firmly into the ground. “Doing so good for me,” he breathes against your swollen clit. “Such a sweet fucking pussy.” 

He sinks two fingers deep into your cunt, humming against you, savoring the taste of you. He pumps in and out, deeper every time. “F-fuck Lo,” you cry out, your hands grasping the blades of grass beneath you for purchase. “Feels so good.”

Your walls flutter around him, your muscles already contracting as he works you open. “That’s it, princess,” he huffs, his teeth grazing your clit as he sucks, hard. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers, can feel you getting close.”

“S-so close,” you choke out as he fucks his fingers into you. His pace becomes faster, relentless. He laps at you like he’s a man who has never eaten in his life. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes. “Come on my tongue, darlin’. Know you can do it.” He’s working you through it, swirling his tongue, flicking your clit, licking thick, hard stripes around the bud. His long fingers scissor inside you, rubbing against your walls deliciously. It’s all too much, but it’s just what you need. “Let go for me, pretty girl.”

You feel your walls contract as the fire in your belly spills. You chant his name—Logan. It’s a prayer—no—a promise. It hangs in the air as you come undone underneath him. His fingers pump in and out of you slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm. He carefully pulls out after a few more thrusts, but his face is still buried in your cunt, still lapping at your swollen, overstimulated clit. 

“Lo,” you whimper, looking down at him. He looks up at you, his tongue licking one long stripe before he stops completely. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit as he sits up and unbuckles his belt. “Gonna have to taste that pretty pussy again later, yeah?” He throws his belt to the side and unbuttons his jeans. He slides the zipper down, too, and hooks his fingers inside his jeans, shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs in one quick movement. 

You can make out just how big he is in the moonlight. You swallow at the size of him. He lowers down onto you again, resting on his forearm, guiding his cock towards your entrance. 

He captures your lips in a kiss as he nudges against you, teasing you, spreading your folds open for him. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he coos, kissing you again. “Gonna make you feel good.” 

You wrap your arms around his back, bringing his chest flush to yours. “Need you, Logan. Need you inside me.”

“I know,” he whispers, nudging teasingly against you again. “I know.”

And then he’s shoving himself deep inside you, filling you up. You can feel his cock twitching, throbbing, searching for more of you. He pulls all the way out and buries himself back down to the hilt. 

“F-fuck,” you curse, your nails digging into his shoulders, searching for support. “It’s s-so much. So big.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he husks, setting a slow, easy pace, letting you adjust to the size of him. “Taking me so good.” He’s working you open with every pump, his cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out. 

Logan brings his free hand between your bodies to your still-swollen clit, stroking gently as he plunges deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You moan his name, your chest coming flush with his as you arch your back. The contact feels so nice—just what you needed. He’s fucking you out, pounding into you over and over again. 

He's erasing every fear, every bad dream, every horrible vision you’ve ever had. It’s what he does to you. It’s just him—Logan—always has been and always will be. 

“Such a good girl,” he grunts. “Letting me fuck you out here.” His hips snap against yours—building his pace, growing faster and deeper as he thrusts into you. You can feel yourself growing closer, crumbling underneath him. You can’t last much longer, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing him tightly. 

He moans your name into your mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip, tasting you. “You feel so good, pretty girl,” he groans, rocking into you. “So soft, so tight. Know you’re close.” He flicks your clit, and then circles roughly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“G-gonna…” You trail off, a bumbling mess, unable to finish your sentence as Logan fucks into you. 

“I know, pretty girl,” He soothes. “I’m right here, I’ve got you. Come for me.” 

You can’t hold back anymore. You can feel yourself letting go, your walls fluttering around him, taking him deeper, holding him tighter. Your orgasm washes over you, like sun stretching across your skin, like a fire spreading in a forest. It’s all too much, too good. 

Logan isn’t far behind. You can feel his cock twitching deep inside you, his pace faltering, his thrusts becoming sloppier. His fingers leave your clit and travel up your body. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he pumps into you, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wanna come inside you, pretty girl,” he moans, pulling you closer, taking you deeper. 

You nod against his forehead. “P-please,” you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t want you to leave yet.”

“F-fuck,” he growls, your words sending him over the edge as he spills inside you, filling you up. “You’ve idea,” he chokes, “how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” His thrusts slow as he rides out his orgasm, pumping in and out a few more times before pulling out of you. 

He doesn’t break contact—doesn’t rush to get changed. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him so that your head rests on his chest, your body tucked tightly into his. You can hear his heart beating deep inside—hear his shaky breaths become more stable. The air is no longer cold—the breeze a welcome contrast to the hot summer night air. 

Your legs tangle together. Somewhere in the distance birds sing. A branch creaks. The wind whisks through the grass. You close your eyes and listen. The calm before the storm. This peace can’t last.

“Lo?” You call, breaking the silence. 

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m right here.”

“I know, but—”

It’s like he can read your mind. “I’m not going anywhere. No one is.” He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer. 

“I’m just scared to lose you, to lose all this.”

Logan presses another kiss to your head. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.” 

Nothing’s gonna take you from my side.  

[fentasiess]

i’m never beating the “standoff-ish” allegations

[rafecameronssl4t]

Like her mama || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: inspired by this TikTok sound

Warnings: none!! just fluff :)

Word count: 1,416

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

As you turn from the sink, water dripping from the freshly washed fruit in your strainer, Topper’s voice interrupts your thoughts. "Need some help with that?" he asks, his tone friendly and familiar. You glance over your shoulder, offering him a warm smile.

"I'm all good, thanks, Top," you reply, your eyes twinkling with gratitude. He nods and takes a seat on the nearby stool, settling in comfortably. Your attention shifts to the pool outside, where Rafe, Mabel, and Kelce are enjoying the morning sun.

"Everything alright out there?" you ask, your curiosity genuine as you look to Topper for reassurance. He glances outside, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, they’re all good. The water’s really nice," he says with a chuckle.

You turn back toward the pool just in time to see Rafe holding Mabel in his arms, her tiny pink bucket hat slightly askew, too big for her small head. You wave, a soft giggle escaping your lips when Rafe lifts Mabel’s hand to mimic your wave, though you’re certain she can’t actually see you.

Topper can’t help but chuckle along with you. "Can’t believe she’ll be seven months next week," he remarks, his tone tinged with amazement. You let out a small sigh as you begin slicing the oranges, arranging them neatly on a platter. "Don’t remind me," you reply with a soft laugh. "She’s growing up so fast."

The two of you continue chatting, the conversation flowing easily until Rafe strolls into the kitchen. His hair is damp, the blonde strands clinging to his forehead, and tiny droplets of water trail down his chest and stomach, glistening in the soft light.

"Hi, baby," he greets you, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your cheek. "Hi," you respond, your smile widening at his touch. Rafe’s eyes drift down to the platter you’re preparing. "That looks amazing," he comments, quickly snatching a strawberry and popping it into his mouth before you can protest. You shake your head playfully, amused by his antics.

"Is Mabel all right?" you ask, glancing at him as he leans casually against the counter. "Mmhmm," he hums in affirmation, then suggests with a grin, "You should come in the water after this." You chuckle softly. "I will, I will," you promise, as he leans in for another quick kiss before heading back outside.

Topper watches him go, shaking his head with a smirk. "Rafe’s a complete softie now, huh?" he comments, clearly amused by the transformation in his friend. You snort, unable to hold back your laughter. "Maybe for us. But he still loves arguing with his sisters," you say with a fond smile, recalling the endless bickering between Rafe and his siblings.

Topper’s expression brightens with sudden recollection. "Did I end up tell you what happened this morning at the shops?" he asks, piquing your curiosity. "No? What happened?" you ask, looking up at him, eager to hear the story.

~

Flashback….

“Is she awake?” Rafe asks as he pulls his G-Wagon into a parking spot in front of the store. The engine’s hum fades as he shifts into park, and Kelce leans over to peer into the baby carrier. Mabel, with her big doe eyes, stares back at him, her tiny mouth busy with her pacifier.

“Wide awake,” Kelce reports with a chuckle, meeting her gaze with a grin. The three of them exit the car; Rafe decides against the stroller, opting to scoop Mabel into his arms instead. After all, they were only planning a quick stop. Mabel clings to him, her small hands gripping his shirt as she takes in her surroundings.

As they approach the store, Topper slips his oversized sunglasses onto Mabel’s little face. The glasses are comically large, sliding down her tiny nose, and the sight of it makes both Topper and Kelce snicker. They quickly pull out their phones, snapping a photo of the moment.

Rafe, oblivious to their antics at first, glances over his shoulder when he hears their muffled laughter. “You guys are idiots,” he says, shaking his head, though he can’t suppress the smile that tugs at his lips when he sees Topper’s sunglasses barely hanging on Mabel’s face. As her uncles continue to laugh, Mabel lets out a delighted giggle, her tiny hands reaching up to grasp at the sunglasses.

As they step into the shop, all three boys lift their sunglasses from their noses and perch them on top of their heads. The cool air inside the store is a welcome contrast to the warmth outside. “What are we getting again?” Kelce asks, glancing around as they enter.

Rafe pulls out his phone, scrolling through the list you had sent him. “Y/n gave me a little list,” he replies, quickly scanning the items before reading them aloud. Kelce nods and heads off towards the fruit section, while Rafe, Topper, and Mabel make their way down another aisle to gather the remaining items.

As they pass by the toy section, Rafe can’t resist stopping, his eyes drawn to the colourful display. Mabel’s attention is instantly caught by the toys on the shelves, her small hands reaching out eagerly. “You want that one? What about this too—” Rafe starts, picking up a soft toy, but he’s interrupted by a voice from behind them.

“Hey,” the voice says, drawing their attention. Rafe turns to find a girl, probably around their age or a bit younger, standing a few steps away. Her smile is bright, but there’s something in her eyes that makes Topper instantly wary. He notices the way her gaze lingers on Rafe before shifting to Mabel.

“Oh my goodness, what a cute baby you have!” she exclaims, her voice overly sweet, dripping with an eagerness that Rafe recognises all too well. It’s the tone of someone trying just a bit too hard to make an impression.

Without missing a beat, Rafe shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, my wife and I make pretty cute babies, huh?” he responds, his tone cool and dismissive, the question hanging in the air as more rhetorical than anything. He turns his attention back to Mabel, who is now clutching the toy he had picked up, her little fingers wrapped tightly around it. He places it in the shopping cart without sparing the girl another glance.

Topper stifles a grin, barely containing his amusement as they walk away, leaving the girl standing there, her plan clearly foiled. As they continue down the aisle, Rafe mutters under his breath, “The audacity,” his voice laced with mild annoyance, though a small smile still plays on his lips.

Topper bursts into laughter. “You handled that very well, didn’t he, Mabel?” he says, leaning over to tickle Mabel’s tummy. She giggles in response, her tiny hands gripping Rafe’s shirt as she hides her face, her laughter a sweet, infectious sound that makes both men smile even wider.

Rafe glances down at his daughter, his expression softening as he leans in to press a series of tender kisses on the side of her forehead. “Yeah, we don’t need any of that nonsense, do we, baby girl?” he murmurs, his voice overflowing with affection. Mabel giggles softly, her tiny hand reaching up to touch his face, and Rafe smiles, the warmth in his eyes evident as they continue with their shopping.

~

End of flashback...

A smile tugs at your lips as Topper finishes his story, the amusement clear in your eyes. His recount of Rafe's quick wit and protective nature at the store had you both chuckling. The memory lingers, bringing a soft warmth to your heart as you place the final pieces of fruit on the platter.

Topper grabs the colourful tray, balancing it with ease as he heads outside to join the others by the pool. Outside, Mabel is floating happily in a small inflatable ring, her tiny hands splashing the water as Rafe gently moves her around. His smile is wide, the pure joy on his face unmistakable as he watches her delight.

Your hands reach up to start unbuttoning Rafe's oversized button-up shirt that you had used as cover up over your bikini. You step into the pool, feeling the cool water contrast with the warmth of the day, and tie your hair up into a bun.

Rafe glances up at you, a playful glint in his eyes as you wade towards them. "Look, Mabel, Mumma's here," he says with a grin, his voice soft and affectionate. Hearing his words, Mabel turns her head, her big eyes lighting up at the sight of you. A gummy smile spreads across her face, and you can’t help but giggle at her reaction.

You move closer, lifting her gently from the floatie and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "You having fun, Bels?" you coo softly, spinning her lightly in the water. She babbles in response, her excitement clear as her little legs kick with glee. Rafe watches with a smile tugging at his lips, his gaze shifting between you and Mabel.

"I just realised you two are matching," he comments, noting your pink bikini and Mabel’s pink bucket hat that’s just a little too big for her. A playful grin spreads across your face. "I planned it," you tease, giving him a wink. Rafe chuckles, moving closer to wrap an arm around your waist and pulling both you and Mabel into a warm embrace.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaning down to tickle Mabel’s tummy. Her infectious giggles echo around the pool, her little hands splashing the water playfully. You and Rafe laugh along with her, the happiness of the moment filling the air.

As you hold Mabel close, feeling the warmth of her tiny body against you, you glance up at Rafe, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We made a pretty cute baby, huh?" you say, your voice filled with pride and affection, echoing the words he had casually tossed out at the shops earlier.

Rafe’s eyes light up with recognition, a smirk forming as he remembers the moment. "Yeah, we sure did. The cutest baby" he agrees, leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

[malavera]

Peaches: “Will you forgive me... Daddy?” (18+) — Logan Howlett

this is a part 2 of my series called Peaches, but it can be read as a standalone 😉 if you wish to check out the part 1 click here!

summary: It’s not like you can’t take care of yourself, no. Your dad just worries a lot so he asks for your friendly old man neighbor to look after you while he’s gone on his business trip. But is that all?

warning: SMUT! MDNI. a little bit fluff, ddlg dynamic, bratty!reader, dom!logan, oral M receiving, throatfucking

taglist: @wcndercore @peachyystuff @kholdkill @narjuko @the-occasional-artist1125 @robynanthonystark @suchasweetieee @jensojkaobecna @explainthisaetheists @currentlyquestioningexistence @cathers-world @seasonofthenerd @thinkinonsense comment if you'd like to be tagged for the next part 😉

The peach-colored bath bomb hisses as it plunges into the warm water, sending ripples through the surface. It fizzes and dissolves, releasing a cloud of sweet fragrance that wraps around the room like a soft, intoxicating embrace. You inhale deeply, the scent pulling you back to a moment not so long ago. As the steam rises, you let the bathrobe slip from your shoulders, but hesitate. The water beckons, promising comfort and warmth, yet something in you resists. His scent still clings to your skin—a haunting reminder of a presence now gone. The thought of washing it away feels like surrendering the last trace of him, and for a moment, you stand there, torn between the allure of the soothing bath and the ache of holding on to what remains.

But in the end, the warmth proves too inviting, and you let yourself slip into the bath. The water envelops you, pulling you into its embrace as your mind replays the scene, vivid and haunting. You can almost see him again, the way he casually brought his fingers to his lips, licking the last remnants of you with a slow, deliberate ease. He didn’t say a word, but that smirk—so confident, so sure—spoke volumes. It was a silent claim, a parting message that lingered as he turned to leave, leaving you with nothing but the fading echo of his presence and the water that now seems too gentle, too cleansing, against the memory you wish to keep.

Time has slipped away, and now, two weeks have passed since that moment. It feels like a distant dream, yet the memory remains sharp, refusing to fade. You’ve been avoiding Logan ever since, even though that’s not what he wants from you. He’s the opposite of what you’ve intended to do; he wants you to embrace it. He wants you to embrace your desire.

But like what you are, you’re too much of a pussy to face your own desire. Even though it aches for his touch.

Now, with your dad away on a business trip, you couldn't be more thrilled. The house is yours, a rare freedom that has your mind buzzing with possibilities. You imagine nights without curfew, slipping out into the night without a care, and not having to worry about getting caught. But your excitement gets the best of you, and you celebrate too soon. Just when you think you’ve outsmarted the system, your dad’s words come crashing down like a cold wave, his rules and expectations finding a way to reach you even when he’s miles away, dampening the thrill before it even begins,

“I’ve asked Logan to watch over you here and there. So, I won’t worry much. He’ll update me on whatever it is you do so, behave.”

Fun right?

And here you are, sitting in the diner’s booth with your girlfriends, the buzz of conversation and the smell of greasy food filling the air. They’re all planning to head to a party after this, and when they mention the time—10 PM—your stomach flips. That’s your curfew, the invisible line you’ve never dared to cross. But tonight, the temptation is too strong, and you’re about to go for it, to finally break the rules. Just as you’re about to give in, the door chimes, and there he is—Logan, strolling into the diner like he owns the place. He walks right up to you, his presence sending a jolt through your resolve, and without a word, he makes it clear he’s not letting you out of his sight tonight. As he takes your hand, you know the party isn’t in the cards anymore—Logan’s about to take you on a different kind of ride.

Crossing your arms tightly over your chest, you pout, your bottom lip jutting out as you stubbornly refuse to look straight ahead. “I’m not a seventeen-year-old,” you mutter under your breath, the words more for yourself than for him.

“But you act like one,” Logan shoots back with a tsk, not missing a beat.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m twenty-three, for god’s sake. Both of you need to stop treating me like a baby!” You huff, finally turning to face him. He’s driving with effortless ease, one hand on the steering wheel, the other casually resting against the door. The simple, relaxed way he holds himself only makes him look even more frustratingly attractive. You hate that he’s right, but more than that, you hate that you can’t stop noticing just how good he looks when he’s in control.

Stubborn as ever, you dig in, determined not to let him win this round. You reminded yourself of why you were fuming in the first place, the anger bubbling back to the surface. “Stop the truck,” you demanded, your voice edged with frustration.

Logan’s head snapped towards you, surprise flashing in his eyes. “What?”

“I said stop the truck, or I’ll jump, and I won’t hesitate. Do not test me right now, I swear, Logan,” you grumbled, your tone leaving no room for doubt. Your sudden tantrum catches him off guard, and for a moment, the confident Logan you’re used to falters. The sweet little peach he thought he knew is nowhere to be found, replaced by someone fierce and unpredictable.

It intrigues him. Something in your defiance pulls at him, piquing his curiosity. He’s not sure what you’re planning, but he wants to find out. Without a word, he slows the car, watching you closely, waiting to see what you’ll do next.

The tension in the car was thick, suffocating even, as you glared at Logan, fury burning in your eyes. The moment felt like it could explode any second, and you weren’t willing to sit there another minute. With a sharp huff, you pushed the door open and stormed out of the car, the cool night air hitting your face like a slap.

“Peach!” Logan’s voice boomed, filled with an urgency that barely masked his frustration. He fumbled with his seatbelt, the metal buckle clinking violently before he freed himself and followed you out. The car door slammed behind him, reverberating in the stillness. “What the hell are you doing?!”

You didn’t stop. “I’m going to my friends, and you can’t stop me!” Your voice was a defiant shout, each word a hammer striking the fragile foundation of whatever was left between you two. Your footsteps were quick, determined to leave him and everything he represented behind.

Logan’s grunt was more animal than man, filled with a rawness that made your heart lurch. “Peach, I swear, get back in the fucking car!” His voice cracked through the night, a desperate command that echoed around you.

But you didn’t turn back. Not this time. “No! And stop calling me that, that’s not even my name!” You shot back, your words slicing through the tension like a blade, final and unyielding.

As you thought you’d finally put enough distance between yourself and his truck, something shifted beneath you—your feet were no longer pounding against the pavement. You shrieked in surprise, your arms flailing as you tried to break free. But before you could fully process what was happening, you were momentarily released, only for Logan to scoop you up again, this time slinging you over his shoulder with a grunt of determination.

"You're not going anywhere, not even in that dress," Logan growled, his voice rough and unwavering, sending a chill down your spine. You writhed in his grasp, pounding your fists against his broad back with all the force you could muster.

"Let me go! Please! Help, someone!" Your voice rang out, desperate and frantic, but the night offered no solace. The street was eerily quiet, not a single car in sight, no one to hear your cries. The only response was the echo of your own voice and the steady, unyielding pace of Logan’s steps as he carried you back towards his truck.

Logan wasted no time strapping you into the passenger seat, his hands moving with a practiced efficiency that left no room for protest. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, and before you could unbuckle yourself, he was already climbing into the driver’s seat. Your frustration bubbled over, and you flailed your arms, grunting and throwing a full-blown tantrum like a five-year-old denied their favorite toy.

But then Logan’s voice erupted, filling the car with a booming authority that silenced you instantly. “ENOUGH!” The word hung in the air, heavy and final. Your arms froze mid-motion, and you stared at him with your brows furrowed and lips pouting, the anger in your eyes now mixed with a hint of confusion.

Logan’s gaze softened just a fraction, but his tone remained firm as he continued, “I’m just doing what your dad wants me to do here, Peach. So help me God, if you wanna go hang out with your friends past curfew, fine, I’ll let you go. But not this one!” His voice was low, edged with a protectiveness that made your heart skip a beat. “I’m not letting you go out there to that fucking stupid party where you could probably get drugged or have alcohol shoved down your throat without your consent; no fucking way.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, the car was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the tension between you both palpable.

Logan’s eyes flicked over to you, taking in the way your chest still heaved with heavy, frustrated breaths. He understood why. The anger bubbling inside you wasn’t just about this moment—it was about the bigger picture, the suffocating sense of disappointment that came from a reality that refused to bend to your desires. You craved freedom, the kind that seemed to come so easily to everyone else.

All you wanted was to be like the others out there, those who could breeze past curfew without a second thought, who laughed and danced through the night without anyone holding them back. Hell, they didn’t even have curfews anymore, not since they turned twenty-one. But here you were, feeling like the world was passing you by, like you were missing out on all the big, exhilarating experiences that came with being young and reckless.

You’d never touched alcohol, never gone to a party where the night stretched into the early hours, never done anything that could be described as recklessly fun. And it gnawed at you. The longing for that freedom, for the chance to let loose and live a little, was a weight on your chest, one that no amount of logic or concern from Logan could lift.

Logan watched you quietly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he saw the storm brewing in your eyes, the conflict between the person you were and the person you wanted to be. He knew he couldn’t give you the freedom you craved, not in this moment. But he couldn’t ignore your pain, either.

Logan leaned over, his movements deliberate as he unbuckled your seatbelt. You watched him, confusion flickering in your eyes as the sharp edges of your anger began to soften. His gaze met yours, steady and calm, as he murmured, “C’mere.”

Before you could fully process what was happening, his hand found your thigh, firm yet gentle as he lifted you up and guided you to sit on his lap, sideways. The shift in position felt unexpected, your body tensing for a moment before you let yourself relax into the warmth of his embrace.

Logan’s strong arms wrapped around you, guiding your body to lean against his chest. He carefully positioned your head on his shoulder, his touch tender as if he knew exactly how to soothe the turmoil raging inside you. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the solid feel of his chest rising and falling beneath you, gradually eased the tension from your muscles.

In his arms, the world outside the car seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet, shared space. The anger and frustration still simmered, but now, in Logan’s embrace, it felt more manageable, less like a storm and more like a lingering cloud.

Logan's voice rumbled softly against your ear as he spoke, the firmness in his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m taking you home, alright? Whether you like it or not, I don’t care. But if you want to go out with your girlfriends tomorrow night doing other things than PARTYING, you bet your ass I’m gonna lock you in the house myself. Deal?”

You didn’t respond immediately, the weight of his words settling in as you considered his offer. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was better than nothing. The compromise, though not ideal, felt like a small victory. So, without saying a word, you nodded your head against his shoulder, accepting his terms.

Logan seemed to take your silent agreement as enough, his arms tightening around you in a way that felt protective rather than restrictive. The frustration still lingered, but there was also a sense of relief in knowing that, at least for tonight, you didn’t have to keep fighting.

“Okay,” Logan murmured as he turned the key, the engine of the truck rumbling to life. You instinctively started to shift, ready to slide off his lap and back into the passenger seat, but his hand on your thigh halted your movement.

“Whoa, whoa, where are you going?” His voice held a teasing edge, but there was no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes as they locked onto yours.

“But, you’re about to dri—” you began, but Logan cut you off with a grunt.

“I don’t care,” he said, his gaze intense, the authority in his tone leaving no room for argument. “Make yourself comfortable and sit on my lap like a good girl, no more tantrum.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat as you met his stare. The tension from earlier was still there, but now it was mixed with something else, something that made your pulse quicken. His grip on your thigh was firm, but his touch was still gentle, almost reassuring.

Slowly, you settled back into his lap, your body leaning against his solid frame as the truck began to roll forward. There was a strange comfort in the way he held you, the familiar scent of him filling your senses. The fight had left you, replaced by a quiet acceptance, your earlier anger melting away as you rested your head against his shoulder.

The ride was wrapped in a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. For some reason, being around Logan soothed you in a way that nothing else had for a long time. It was a feeling you’d longed for, a sense of security and warmth that you hadn’t realized how much you missed until now.

Even though you had your dad, it wasn’t the same. You were never really close with him. The glue that held your family together had always been your late mother, the one who bridged the gap between you and your father. But when she passed away from that illness when you were seventeen, everything changed. The dynamic between you and your dad became something different—just plain family.

He loved you, you knew that, but it was a love that felt distant, like an obligation rather than a connection. And you loved him back, but only just enough. There was a gap, a void left by your mother’s absence, that neither of you knew how to fill. You’d drifted apart, existing in the same space but not truly together.

But with Logan, it was different. Even in the quiet, even without saying a word, there was a comfort in his presence that made you feel like you weren’t so alone. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body against yours—it was like a balm to the aching loneliness you carried.

The warmth of your house greeted you as soon as you unlocked the front door, a comforting contrast to the cool night air outside. You stepped inside, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you like a blanket. With a tired sigh, you tossed the keys into the bowl on the console table, the clatter echoing in the quiet hallway. Without a word, you made your way upstairs, leaving Logan standing in the entryway, the silence between you stretching out once more.

Logan watched you disappear up the stairs, a heaviness settling over him. With a resigned sigh, he headed straight for the kitchen, his boots thudding softly against the hardwood floor. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cabinet, the glass container cold to the touch as he unscrewed the cap, pouring it down the glass.

Taking a generous sip, Logan flopped down onto your couch, the cushions sinking under his weight. The remote was within reach, and with a flick of his wrist, he turned on the TV. The soft glow of the screen filled the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

But even as the TV droned on in the background, Logan’s mind wasn’t on whatever was playing. He took another sip of his beer, letting the quiet comfort of your home settle around him, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the night.

After slipping into more comfortable clothes, you hesitated at the top of the stairs, hoping that Logan was still there. The night had left you feeling unsettled, and the thought of him being gone added to the unease. Slowly, you made your way downstairs, the soft fabric of your clothes brushing against your skin, grounding you.

As you reached the living room, you cleared your throat, the sound breaking the stillness. Logan, who had been staring at the TV without really watching, turned his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—concern, maybe relief—before he watched you walk towards him.

Without saying a word, you sat down on the couch beside him, the space between you feeling both intimate and vast. You looked at the glass of scotch in Logan’s hand, your curiosity piqued. “Can I try?” you asked, your voice soft but eager.

Logan glanced at the glass and then back at you. He simply handed it over without a word, his expression neutral. The amber liquid sloshed slightly as you took the glass from him. The warmth of the scotch felt foreign in your hand, but there was a sense of anticipation as you held it. Logan watched you silently, his gaze steady as you prepared to take your first sip.

You raised the glass to your lips, the rich, amber liquid catching the light. With a deep breath, you took your first sip. The taste was immediately intriguing—complex and smoky, with a hint of sweetness that lingered pleasantly on your tongue. It was unlike anything you’d ever had before, a unique blend of flavors that seemed to dance across your palate.

The warmth of the scotch spread from your mouth down your throat, a slow burn that settled into a comforting glow. You took another sip, savoring the taste, letting the sensation wash over you. The flavor was bold and sophisticated, a little bit of adventure in a glass.

“You like it?” Logan asked, raising one eyebrow and giving you a half-smile. His gaze was curious as he watched you take in the experience.

You folded your lips, glancing down at the glass before meeting his eyes again and nodding. “It’s not bad,” you admitted, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Logan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Would you trade your life for this or for your peach soda?” he joked.

You giggled, the scotch giving you a carefree lightness. “Peach soda for the win,” you declared with a playful grin. But then, without hesitation, you raised the glass to your lips and chugged the rest of the liquor in one swift motion.

Logan watched with a mixture of amusement and surprise. “Says one who’d trade her life for the peach soda,” he remarked with a scoff, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

He grabbed the empty glass from your hand and, with a quick motion, poured another round for himself. The scotch swirled in the glass as he settled back onto the couch, the warmth of the liquor evident in his relaxed demeanor.

“I want one again,” you murmured, a pout forming on your lips as you looked at the empty glass.

Logan sighed, giving in with a resigned smile. “Fine, here,” he said, pouring another generous measure of scotch into the glass. But instead of reaching for the glass, you snatched the bottle right from his hand.

“Wha—hey whoa, Peach,” Logan started, surprised.

“I have my limits, don’t worry,” you replied with a mischievous glint in your eye.

Logan frowned, his hand reaching for the bottle. “Right, considering this is your first time and you like this more than your peach soda, I think that’s not a great idea. Come on, give me the bottle.”

With a shriek of playful defiance, you pushed yourself off the couch and stood in front of him, waving the bottle mockingly. “Watch me,” you smirked, lifting the bottle to your lips.

You took a generous sip, the rich warmth of the scotch flowing smoothly down your throat. Logan watched, amused. The newfound confidence in your actions only seemed to grow with each sip, the scotch emboldening you in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

As the minutes ticked by, you began to feel a subtle shift within you. The warmth from the scotch seemed to spread through your body, making you feel more alive, more fearless. It was as if the world outside had softened, the edges of your worries and reservations blurring into the background.

“Hmmm,” you hummed contentedly, taking a step closer to where Logan sat. With a playful glint in your eye, you placed the bottle on the coffee table and then gracefully straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Logan’s expression shifted subtly, his initial concern giving way to something more intimate. His eyes softened, the playful warmth of the moment casting a new light on his face. He adjusted his position slightly to accommodate you, his hands resting gently on your hips.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted tonight," you murmured, looking down to his lips before gazing up to his eyes. "Will you forgive me... Daddy?"

Logan looks at you surprised, he couldn't believe what he just heard. It's something he has never heard anyone addressed him with that before. The tension wasn't comforting it was rather more, sensual. Logan slowly leans forward inching closer to your face, he looks down to your lips before murmuring, "What did you just call me?"

You giggled, "Daddy." You repeated. "You're more like a dad to me than my dad ever was," you giggled. "The only difference is, I wanna fuck you." The scotch is now talking. "You were right, all those times you've caught me fucking myself with my fingers through my window, I wanted you to watch me," You stare at him with doe eyes. "And thank fuck, you watched me."

Logan groaned from listening to you talk like that. His hands gripping your hips, throwing his head back against the cushion. "You promised me you wanted me to feel your cock," you pouted, starting to move your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against his denim jeans. Inching your face close to him, you whispered against his lips, "So give me your cock, Daddy."

Logan grumbled something under his breath, his gaze darkening as the playful tension between you ignited into something more intense. Without warning, his hand moved to your throat, not with force but with a possessive firmness that sent a shiver down your spine. In one swift motion, he pulled you in, crashing his lips against yours.

The kiss was searing, filled with the passion that had been simmering between you all night. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that took your breath away, the earlier tenderness giving way to something more primal. The heat of the moment enveloped you both, and you felt your heart race as the kiss deepened, becoming more feral and uncontrolled.

Logan’s hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as his mouth claimed yours with a hunger that made your head spin. The kiss became sloppy, desperate even, as the two of you lost yourselves in the intensity of the connection. You struggled to keep up, your breath hitching as you tried to match his pace, but it was overwhelming, intoxicating. The world around you seemed to blur, your senses consumed by the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, and the way his lips demanded everything from you.

You never stopped grinding your hips against his clothed cock as both of your lips were dancing with each other. The bulge in his jeans kept growing bigger and bigger until he decided it's finally enough to torture him; he broke the kiss and lift you up before his hands went to undo his jeans.

You watched the way he swiftly pulling down his jeans along with his boxers, his cock slapped against his abdomen. Shit, you thought. He's nowhere near small, he's big and fat. You wonder if it's going to fit in your small cunt and your small mouth. Logan noticed your demeanor has changed as he smirked to himself.

"Don't worry, Peach. I'll show you how." You looked at him confused. "You're gonna put my cock in your mouth first," You inhaled sharply before nodding your head, Logan smiled at you, happy that you're obeying to what he wants you to do. "Good girl, get on your knees."

Logan walked you through it, by telling you to grab his cock with both hands. "Give it a kiss." He urged, nudging his chin cockily. You hesitatingly kissed the raging red tip of his cock that has his already pre-cum leaking from the tiny slit. "Lick it, peach." He commanded, you obeyed. Dragging your warm tongue out from your mouth and made contact with the skin.

Logan watching you so innocently making out with his tip, makes his heart beat faster, eager to slide his cock down your throat and fuck your stupidly innocent face. "Thaaaat's good, peach. Put 'em all in your mouth." Before you do that, you fixated your gaze on Logan before moving away to inch your face close to his heavy balls.

You decided to improvise and see if he'd like that, Logan watches you intensely and groaned as you drag your tongue from the bottom of his cock upwards to meet his tip before putting him all in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, and teasingly rolled your eyes close to show that you're enjoying it so much. And it did sent Logan to heaven, watching his little peach enjoy sucking his girth.

"You like my cock, peaches? .... Yeah? .... Well come on, put them all in ya." Logan muttered as he raised his hip slowly upward, pushing his cock into your mouth further to reach your throat. When you gagged, Logan moaned. You thought that was a good sign, especially when you couldn't control your saliva as it drips down to his pubic hair and all. "Fffuck." Logan cursed watching you bob your head and up down his cock.

"Feels s'good.. Peach, god." Logan rolled his eyes and lean his head back, his hand rest on top of your head, fisting your hair. He grunted, "'want more." He murmured under his breath before he decided to take control. He bobbed your head up and down, increasing the speed while also thrusting his hips upward, fucking your throat.

"Fuck yeah, you better think twice before you talk back to me like that in the car." Logan grunted, watching you struggle to breathe, your eyes getting teary and choked on his cock. Logan laughs rather maniacally, watching you struggle turns him on even more.

"You wanna feel how it feels like to have a warm cum slides down your throat, peaches?" Your eyes widened. "Yeah.. I'll show you. 'M gonna cum soon, Oh.. So good, peach." Logan moaned, eyebrows scrunched together with his eyes closed.

Placing your palm on his thighs, you tried to at least breathe a little. You didn't want to pull away as you don't want you disappoint him. You can feel Logan's tip twitch in your mouth, you take it he's about to cum soon.

Without warning, Logan let out the loudest moan ever, spilling his warm cum down your throat. His hips stuttered a little, giving you one final thrust to make sure he emptied everything in your mouth. And you gladly took them all. As Logan pulls his cock out from your mouth, he watched you swallow his everything down your throat as he smirked in proud.

You watched him with your famous doe-eyes when you want something but Logan just laughed at you, mocking.

"You think after you pulled that stunt on the road you deserve my cock in your pussy? Hell fucking no, peach. At least not tonight, now get to bed."

thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! if you love my writing feel free to check my other works here

support me by buying me a coffee! 🤍

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned. 

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot. 

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him. 

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season. 

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?” 

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over. 

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were. 

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed. 

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered. 

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile. 

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised. 

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.  

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.   

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.   

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.  

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–” 

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly. 

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?” 

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back. 

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open. 

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds. 

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head. 

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners.. 

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.  

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back. 

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.  

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.  

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison. 

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said. 

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.” 

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna. 

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled. 

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp. 

Well fuck me, you thought. 

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin. 

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler. 

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag. 

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned. 

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy. 

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him. 

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation. 

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him. 

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor. 

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

… 

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did. 

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go. 

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside. 

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses. 

“C’mon!” you screamed. 

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled. 

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately. 

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won. 

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way. 

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!” 

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up. 

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did. 

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again. 

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next? 

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake. 

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath. 

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress. 

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.   

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed. 

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything. 

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin. 

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble. 

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry. 

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart. 

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.  

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort. 

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could. 

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest. 

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night. 

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not. 

“Was I screaming?” 

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself. 

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth. 

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised. 

“What?” you asked. 

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.” 

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.  

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly. 

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.” 

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise. 

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.” 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded. 

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either. 

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely. 

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you. 

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you. 

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it? 

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.” 

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.” 

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed. 

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later. 

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it. 

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased. 

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked. 

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.

[b1adie]

ok so we know trailblazer travelled with the stellaron hunters before the story. they’re the ones that drop them off at the space station, silver wolf is really friendly with them, and blade outright says it in kafka’s companion mission.

so looking back, firefly’s reaction to seeing trailblazer for the “first” time makes a lot of sense

thats not some way you’d react to seeing a stranger yk… the surprise and then happiness and immediate familiarity makes way more sense now

and ofc theres these lines… we meet again, as always, as ever, etc…

i was looking at the last page of the dreamscape pass earlier. there’s a sticker about meeting her.

… and then there’s this one, too.

and its KILLING me. like ok. they were in love? and trailblazer had to have their memories wiped? it makes everything make more sense in retrospect and it also makes it hurttttt. and like i love that trope, person forgets everything but still has this seeimingly-unexplainable fondness towards their partner..

do you think seeing the person she loves again was part of those “great rewards” elio promised her.

[luveline]

coworker James being protective of reader like she’s just a sweet and kind thing and he’s FINALLY accepting his feelings and reader gets like happy that he cares?

“No, no, it’s okay. Yeah, don’t worry about me, I’m just gonna watch movies all weekend. I might make popcorn. Yeah! Don’t worry about it, just have fun, okay?” 

You’re talking quietly but not without pep, hushed to avoid disturbing him. By the sounds of it, your plans for the weekend have bombed. You’re taking it remarkably well. 

“Okie dokie. Well, I’ll see you soon, yeah? Love you. Bye.” You don’t lift your head where you’re laying against the desk, but you put your phone gently by your keyboard. 

“That blows,” James says. 

“Maybe.” You turn your face to see him, before you lift yourself up and return to the pack of biscuits you’ve opened. “Do you want some?” you ask, bringing a malted milk to your mouth. 

“Please.” 

You gesture for him to take one. In relative quiet, you and James sit there chewing, the sunlight from the open window on your hands. 

“You’re not upset about your plans?” he asks. 

“A bit, but… I don’t want her to feel bad for me. She should have a good time, she got last minute tickets to see a band and she loves them. We can just hang out next weekend.” You push the biscuits toward him. “I need to stop eating these all the time.” 

You stand up and do a big stretch, arm arched over your head before you laugh and point at him. He’s never had someone look at him like this. “Pretend you didn’t see that,” you say, raising your eyebrows just a touch. 

You’re being playful. James’ stomach flips. “I didn’t see a thing,” he says. 

You drop your pointing. “Really?” 

He covers his eyes. 

Your following laughter is even richer. 

“This office makes me tired. I’m going to make some coffee before lunch is over,” you say. 

You walk away like nothing happened. James is left to ruminate. 

He pushes a hand into the crop of his hair and ruffles it, stressed, though the scratch of his nails against his scalp relieves some tension. James is used to being annoyed at you, you were always so irked with him, but lately he struggles to find anger for you. He still loves to tease you and watch your eyes change; there’s no better moments than on the mornings he’s here first and he’s found a new hiding place for your mug, and you’re forced to ask him where it is he put it. Asked is kind, really. More aptly, you demand to know where it is, and promise professional retribution. 

You could always drink from a different mug, but James has a feeling you like asking. This morning, you found it by yourself, and you put it smugly on your desk with steam rising from the surface. “You’re getting worse,”

you’d said, and that smugness suddenly felt friendly. Your smile was ten different shades of sweet. 

You are… quite sweet. You’re kind. You don’t let much upset you that isn’t James, even when it should. And the James stuff is all superficial. When was the last time you guys argued over something that mattered?

Which isn’t to say he doesn’t love arguing with you. But he’s coming to appreciate another side of you, the side that comes back to your desk with a fresh coffee and little happy breath of air when you see he’s made his two figurines cuddle each other. 

“They’re in love,” you say dreamily. 

“You can be so lovely,” James says. It’s like something takes over his body. 

You put your coffee down. “What?” you ask, smiling as though it’s a joke you don’t get. 

He’s not sure he should say it again. “I don’t know. When you smile, you’re really pretty. Like, even more than usual.” 

“Ha-ha.” 

“No, I’m serious.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

James takes one of your biscuits. “Then don’t, it doesn’t bother me.” He wishes he hadn’t said it, what a weird thing to say, but he can’t pretend he was kidding, it would be crueller than saying nothing. So he wedges a biscuit in his mouth and laughs when you call him gross, your facade one he doesn’t believe. You wrinkle your nose, but you’re happy underneath it. 

Lovely, even. 

[teapartyprincess4two]

Carnal Desires- M. Sturniolo

pairing: girlfriend!reader x boyfriend!Matt

classification: smut

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, slight cursing, oral sex, established relationship, short, no use of y/n

inspiration: request, I put a big spin on this request lolol bc I’ve written car sex before and felt like we needed something different

summary: You join Matt and his family on a vacation, and get lost together while on a hike. Instead of freaking out, you two take advantage of the sudden alone time.

—

This vacation was supposed to be fun for you, full of laughter and adventures as you and Matt’s family explored the island and all it had to offer. You were looking forward to spending alone time with Matt in between the week’s packed schedule, maybe sneak in a session or two, but instead you were forced to share a room with Nick.

You love Nick and you wouldn’t mind sharing a room with him under any other circumstances, but all you wanted was quality time with your boyfriend. Mary Lou made the room arrangements, and although she knows you and Matt were having sex regularly, it wasn’t going to happen under her watch. So, instead of enjoying your time in paradise with your boyfriend, you’re being tortured and touch-starved.

Matt feels the same way every time he sees you wearing a bikini at the pool, a pair of shorts that hug you just right, or even when you’re eating and he watches your lips wrap around a fork. All he wants to do is drag you away and fuck you in the nearest secluded area, but he had to remind himself to keep his interactions with you family friendly.

This was going to be such a long trip to say the least.

—

“Watch your step, baby,” Matt instructs, pointing towards the rocks that litter the path ahead. You hated hiking, especially in the hot island sun, but the tour guide promised a waterfall at the end that you just couldn’t pass up. You offer Matt a kind smile, holding onto him for support as you trudge further and further up the mountain. His arm stiffens as he supports your weight, helping you push yourself up a large rock.

His eyes trail up your legs, the shorts you’re wearing riding up slightly and exposing your asscheek. All week he’s struggled to keep his hands off of you, especially with his family so close all the time. But they’re pretty far up the hiking trail, he wonders if he’ll have enough time to push you up against the rock, pull down your shorts, and finally fuck you.

He debates it for a while, chewing the inside of his lip to distract himself from the growing sensation in his pants, but he’s broken from his thoughts by your voice, “Matt c‘mon we’re gonna get lost out here!” You’re crouched at the edge of the rock, stretching an arm out for him which causes your top to fall forward just enough to expose the bikini you’re wearing underneath.

All he wants to do is rip it off and watch your tits bounce as you ride him. “I’m coming,” he grunts, taking a hold of your hand and using the other to push himself up. He’s sweaty and sunburnt, slowly becoming tired of this dumb hike. You can tell he’s becoming overwhelmed and annoyed, so you wrap your arms around his waist.

“Don’t be so grumpy,” you tease with a downturned smile, pecking his lips playfully. His jaw is clenched, trying to stretch his neck far enough for you to miss his mouth. Your lips fall on his jaw, feathering a few kisses down his neck teasingly. “C’mon baby, just a little smile,” you continue to tease, your breath tickling the skin of his neck.

A small chuckle finally escapes his mouth, his tough guy demeanor crumbling and being replaced with a playful expression. “Why are you so grumpy?” your tone is still cheery because, despite also being tired, you’re trying to remain positive.

“Because we’re lost,” he replies blankly, allowing his arms to snake around your waist until his arms rest comfortable on your ass. He squeezes your ass, massaging the skin shortly after. You see the opportunity for a corny remark and take it, “I’m not lost if I’m with you.”

This causes him to burst out in laughter, finally giving in and returning the kiss, “you’re so fucking corny.” You smile into the kiss, you knew exactly what to do to make him feel better.

“I can make you feel better,” you reply between kisses, allowing your lips to travel further down his jawline and neck. He hums in response, the suggestion immediately sending blood rushing to his dick. You take this as an invitation to go through with your actions, slowly kneeling in front of Matt until you’re facing his crotch.

He watches in shock and excitement as you wiggle into the ground and begin unbuckling his shorts. Were you really going to suck his dick in the middle of the dense jungle? What if someone else came through the hiking path? Or worse, what if his family emerged from the dense flora and caught you with his dick in your mouth? As frightening as the idea was, it was also exciting, and Matt never the type to turn down a blowjob.

He watches in awe as you pull his shorts down, palming his dick through the fabric of his boxers. You kiss his penis through the cloth, waiting for a reaction from Matt. “Don’t tease,” he groans, causing you to finally slowly pull his boxers down.

Once it’s free, Matt’s hard dick slaps against his stomach, precum already forming at the red, swollen tip. You take a firm grip of him, slowly pumping and placing a sloppy kiss on his tip. He tastes salty, his precum mixing with the sweat from having hiked for hours.

His jaw is slack and his eyes are scrunched as you finally wrap your mouth around his tip. You’d usually take your time and tease Matt until he was begging for you to do something, but you’re so hungry for him that you can’t help but deep throat him instantly. Matt’s tip hits the back of your throat, causing him to instinctively buck his hips into your mouth.

Strong hands take a hold of your hair, creating a make-shift ponytail to provide him with the leverage necessary to fuck your face. You’re gagging around his cock, his hips snapping into your face and his hands pushing your head back and forth. Tears brim at your eyes with each thrust, your hands holding onto Matt’s thighs both for support and in an attempt to slow his movements.

He’s unrelenting, though, forgetting entirely about your need for oxygen. You moan around him, cheeks hollowing tight enough to help push Matt past his breaking point. His eyes are training on you, watching in awe as bubbles of saliva drip down your chin.

“So. Fucking. Sexy,” he grunts with each thrust, pulling out completely with a loud pop. Matt pumps his cock from above your face, giving you enough time to catch your breath before you’re opening your mouth again for him. He groans at your willingness to please, placing his fat, heavy cock on your flat tongue.

You scoot closer to him eagerly, waiting for him to paint your tongue with his cum. “So beautiful and eager,” he murmurs, stroking his cock one last time before unloading his cum in your mouth. Some of it shoots out far enough to land on your face, engraving an image in Matt’s head that he’s sure to use later.

One of your fingers scoops up the stray cum that frosted tour face, popping the remnants in your mouth as you stare intently at Matt. You want him to remember this for the remainder of this trip, to think about you on your knees with his cum on your face. You want him to remember how well you took his cock and for images of you to flood his mind at night, forcing him to find you and fuck you in another secluded, undisclosed location.

Without another word, you kiss his tip and spring up from the floor. “I think they went this way,” you say, pointing in a random direction, but if you were being honest you lost track of the group long before you dropped to your knees. Matt watches you in confusion, how were you able to recover so easily while he still stood there with his cock out? He’s barely coming down from his high, but he pulls his pants up and follows you anyway.

Matt’s skeptical, not entirely trusting your sense of direction. “Are you sure? It doesn’t look like anyone’s gone that way… ever,” he replies, taking in his surroundings. You wave him off, pushing through highly forested terrain as you attempt to find the group again.

“I’m sure. We’ll be fine,” you dismiss, leading the way deeper into the jungle. Hopefully Matt remained in a good mood for the rest of the hike, if not you’d be forced to work your magic again.

—

At this point you don’t know which way is left and which is right, you’re just walking for the sake of moving. There are no trails in sight, but there are rocks at every twist and turn, and the sun is beginning to set. “I think we’re lost,” you finally admit, stopping abruptly in your tracks and doing a full 360 in an attempt to relocate yourself.

“You think?” Matt replies in a sarcastic tone, running an exasperated hand through his hair. You ignore his tone, chalking it up to the hike having worn him out. He was easily irritable, but you knew of a few ways to fix that.

“Well I hear water this way. That could be the waterfall?” you say, throwing a thumb behind you to signal that that’s where you hear the water coming from. Matt’s equally as lost as you are, but since you were the one leading the way it was easy to place the blame on you. “It could be, but what if it isn’t?” he retorts, raising his voice slightly.

“We’re already lost, Matt. What does it matter if it isn’t the waterfall?” you reply, mocking his voice slightly as you send him an annoyed look. You decide to just ignore him and begin walking towards the water instead of arguing in the middle of a deserted island, surrounded by dense vegetation and predators that were sure to wake when the sun set.

Matt throws his hands up in the air out of frustration as he follows behind you. If you were Chris or Nick he probably would’ve lashed out at you already, but he bites his tongue because he realizes that there’s no point in arguing. The only reason he’s responding so harshly is because he’s letting the situation and his pent up sexual frustration get the best of him.

The water gets louder the further you walk and the air becomes cooler. Finally, after pushing past vines and leaves, you see the roaring stream of water. Foam forms at the edge of the cliff where the water meets the ground, creating a large pool deep enough to swim in. It was such a beautiful sight, you couldn’t help but immediately throw your backpack to the ground and kick your shoes off.

“Told you it was the waterfall,” you say in excitement, suddenly feeling energetic again. You make swift work of your shirt, removing it before unbuckling your shorts. Matt’s equally as excited, tugging his shorts off as he watches you shimmy out of yours.

Your ass jiggles each time you pull at your shorts, finally revealing the bikini you wore underneath. Matt’s in his boxers, the fabric loose around his thighs but becoming tight around his crotch. He’s no longer frustrated with you, all he can think about is fucking you in the water, the water splashing each time he bucks into you.

His carnal, animalistic desires overrun his mind as images of you on the jungle floor with his cock balls deep in your mouth replay in his head. Matt joins you in the cool water, ready to have another adventure with you.

—

The sun has set and the moon has now replaced its position in the sky, shining down on you both while you effortlessly wade through the water. The pool is deep enough to reach your shoulders, but it reaches Matt’s lower chest. The loud, relentless waterfall makes it hard to hear Matt when he speaks so you’re forced to press your face against his to hear him.

“You look so sexy, baby,” he murmurs against your ear, his face so close to yours that you can feel his stubble graze your cheek with each word. Matt’s hands pull you close to him from under the water, allowing your legs to wrap around his torso as he supports your weight. Your ass settles just above his crotch, inches away from his throbbing penis.

You hum in response, pulling your face away slightly to capture his lips in a kiss. Nature managed to provide you with the perfect ambiance, perfectly secluded from all civilization for the first time this week. “I missed you all week,” you whispered into the kiss, giving Matt the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He’s immediately moaning into the kiss, his tongue lapping in your sweet juices. He places two strong hands on your ass, pushing you down on his growing erection, eliciting a strained whimper from you. “Feel that?” he grunts, forehead flush with yours as he presses his crotch so hard on yours you can feel everything. His eyes are locked on yours, searching for a reaction.

Your core clenches instinctively at his words, you wish you could feel him. It seems like the waterfall becomes louder the more worked up you become, both of you blissfully unaware of the world around you. The stars are twinkling from above and the moon is shining directly on the pool of water you swim in, serving as a spotlight for the show you and Matt were about to put on.

His mouth is back on you, hungrily trailing kisses down the wet skin of your neck. He stops right above your collar bone, sucking and biting the skin until it’s purple. You’re gripping his hair and grinding down onto him, allowing the water to help you move effortlessly. All you want is to feel him closer after an entire week apart.

“Matt, just fuck me already,” you moan, becoming desperate for his touch. Usually he’d tease you and tell you to be patient, but even he was desperate for relief. He pulls you into another kiss, swiftly tugging his cock out of his boxers in the process. You try adjusting yourself over Matt, his fingers expertly moving your bikini to the side, causing you to squirm slightly as the fabric presses against your sensitive clit.

“Stay still,” he grumbles, aligning his cock with your entrance. You immediately do as you you’re told, eager to please and even more eager to feel him inside you. Without a second thought, his left hand is pushing you down on him and the right is keeping his cock in place. An immediate sigh of relief leaves Matt’s mouth once he bottoms out inside of you, adjusting himself so he’s able to support you from under your thighs. The sensation is euphoric, causing Matt’s knees to tremble as he tries to ground himself on the rocky floor beneath him.

Your legs are wrapped around Matt’s waist, using the position as leverage to begin bouncing up and down on his dick slowly. The momentum of your movements causes the water to push and pull around you, slapping against your chest with each thrust. “I missed this,” he moans, eyes squeezed tight as he tries to compose himself. The feeling is so pent up that he’s sure to bust in seconds, so he focuses on lasting long so he can make you feel good.

“I missed this too, baby. So much,” you reply, hanging on by Matt’s shoulders as you throw your head back in pleasure. You’re clenching around him, your pussy sucking him in deeper. Loud moans are coming from both of you, the waterfall swallowing them and washing them away.

Matt watches as your boobs bounce violently, threatening to spill out of your tight bikini top. It’s like they’re teasing him, willing him to pull the bikini off and toss it deep into the jungle. He yanks it down before he can stop himself, freeing your tits and immediately groaning at the sight.

You look so sexy on top of him, taking him like a champ and giving him a show while doing it. His hips rut into you quickly, balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. Your tits press against his chest, sensitive nipples grazing against his skin.

He’s fucking you so hard and fast at this point that his dick slips out of you, slapping against your clit in the process. The sensation causes your legs to shake and your core to clench once again. “Fuck,” he whimpers at the loss of contact, taking a hold of his cock and rubbing it against your pussy.

Matt manages to slip back into your folds aggressively, pounding into you at the same relentless pace from before. This was the sloppiest sex you’d ever had with Matt, but after a week completely deprived of him you’d gladly welcome it.

You’re both soaked, somehow managing to float under the waterfall. The pressurized water rains down on you, the stream coming down on you so hard it unties your bikini causing it to float downstream. “Matt! My top,” you gasp, reaching for your bikini and pushing your boobs together in the process.

Matt groans at the sight, your pillowy breasts bouncing as he fucks you like it’s the first and last time. Your spongy walls push against his penis, causing a sensation that sends him past his breaking point.

“We’ll get it later,” he responds between grunts, snapping his hips into you one last time before unloading his cum inside you. Just because he’s no longer moving doesn’t mean you aren’t still bouncing on his dick, causing it to twitch from the sensitivity.

“Babe,” he chuckles, his body instinctively attempting to pull away as the overstimulation becomes too much. You ignore him, chasing your climax with each jump. All he can do is hold onto you firmly and use all his strength to prevent his knees from buckling.

Finally, you’re convulsing around his cock and moaning loudly as your orgasm washes over your body. The sight is beautiful, your wet hair stuck to your skin, and your eyes rolling so far to the back of your head that all Matt sees is white.

He feels a sense of pride in making you feel this good, he’s never seen you react this animated during sex before. The combination of the location, the stimulation from the water, and the pent up sexual frustration being enough to intensify your orgasm.

Matt pulls you off of him slowly, gently placing you back down on the rocky floor. He gives you a goofy, fucked out smile as he glances down at your bare chest. Your bikini top is floating down stream quickly, threatening to get lost in the wilderness with each passing second. Your arms are quick to wrap around your chest, suddenly feeling exposed like you weren’t just having the loudest sex ever.

“I’ll get it,” he chuckles, adjusting his boxers and swimming downstream effortlessly towards your top. You thank God for sending you such an observant and kind boyfriend, one who was willing to make you feel good and then take care of you afterwards.

Once he reaches it, he throws the bikini your way, causing water to splash in your face. Even though he was just balls deep in you, you find yourself turning your back to him while you put the bikini back on. He’s too busy swimming against the stream to notice though, the realization of how lost you truly were finally settling in.

For now, though, the two of you were content with a night under the stars away from prying eyes.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

🤰🏻

Me after writing this

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[alwaysshallow]

i'm thinking of john price and reader, childhood best friends. you're close with him basically from second grade. inseparable, even when he went to the military and the daily talks weren't possible. you wrote letters to him nonetheless, describing what exactly happened, so he wouldn't miss a thing. he's too important for you to lose, and he thinks the same way about you to.

maybe that's why you two made a promise to each other that if you two are gonna be single till 40, you two will marry. after all, what is so wrong in marrying your best friend? nothing, and if it means sticking with each other to the end, then so be it. he was gonna be here anyway, till the end.

you even made a small paper, like it was some sort of agreement or something like that.

with years, you think it's some sort of joke because even if you have boyfriends, no one really sticks and sooner or later, they leave. john, on the other hand, has no one - says he's too busy with the military and flings are better, so you don't pay mind to that too much.

and you probably should. almost all of your “boyfriends” left you because he was, and still will be the problem. he’s too close, acting way too friendly, scaring your boyfriends off or simply threatening them - and, getting the job done. your latest ex-boyfriend knows something about it, considering that he landed in the hospital with several broken bones:/ 

it’s your blind faith in john that is a problem too; you simply can’t believe that a man, so gentle and so friendly could harm anyone. after all, all he wants is you to be happy, right?? that’s why you haven’t caught up in his lies.

“they’re simply not worthy,” he muses, kissing the top of your head. “men these days… disappointing, aren’t they?” 

“you could introduce me to someone.” you roll your eyes with a smile, when he shakes his head. “haven’t you told me that military men are the best?”

“i did,” he starts, leaning against the frame, “but that’s only me. others are… filthy. possessive, obsessive, acting like they possess you whenever they have eyes on you.”

“and you?” you raise your eyebrow.

“i am your best friend. that’s something entirely different, love.”

and the conversation ends on that; you remember them when he puts an engagement ring on your finger, on the day of his 40th birthday.

[loonylupinblack3]

Overprotective

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)

Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: posting bc of max's win in china

Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.

You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.

So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.

“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.

You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.

“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.

Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

“We’re going clubbing….”

Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”

You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”

“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”

You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”

Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”

“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”

“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”

“I’m not going to be alone-”

“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”

You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”

Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.

You returned the embrace. “I always am.”

You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”

You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.

All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe. 

Except things didn’t go to plan.

You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.

Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.

You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.

y/n: maxieeeeeeee

maxie❤️: you okay?

y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club

maxie❤️: are you drunk??

y/n: jst a litttle bit

y/n: lily siad shots

maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?

y/n: im grate

y/n: u should cmoe hree

y/n: i wnna party wth yoou

maxie❤️: already on my way

If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ‘yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.

Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.

“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”

Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”

Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”

“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.

Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”

You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”

He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”

You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness. 

Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”

“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”

Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”

You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”

Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”

It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.

Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.

[checkeredflagggs]

Friendly Banquet

Pairing: logan sargeant x american!fem!reader

logan gets chosen to host the end of the year dinner and that means the grid meets his girl

a/n: I’m firmly ignoring august 27th and choosing to live in my bubble of ignorance. this is my first ever smau so plz be nice - i also don’t have instagram or twitter so 🤷🏻‍♀️ doing my best with the format.

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 231,445 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargeant: honored to have been chosen to host this year's postseason dinner. can’t wait to welcome everyone to the farm!

view all comments

user1: HE’S GOT A GIRLFRIEND?!?

user2: HE LIVES ON A FARM?!

user1: ok but I can see the vision

oscarpiasti: it’s about time - I’ve been waiting to go back for months

logansargeant: like I’d invite you before I get my farm time in!

yourusername: don’t listen to him Oscar! You’re always welcome

oscarpiastri: you’re my favorite american

logansargeant: what?!

user3: oh i love her already

user4: what do you mean postseason dinner?!? EXPLAIN???

user5: if I find out this is an actual thing I’m gonna explode

user6: right?!? Just how long have these “dinners” been going on?

user7: brb just going to cry my eyes out

user8: why haven't we heard of this before

alexalbon: so when I have a pack of pets it’s weird but when you do it’s ok?

logansargeant: I live on a farm

alexalbon: so?

user9: I need photos stat. I need more evidence of past dinners

user10: right? Like you know these dinners be lit af

yourusername: I can’t wait either babe! But be warned - I’m putting you to work when you get home! 😘🩵

logansargeant: I’ve got my potato peeler locked and loaded ☺️

landonorris: you can cook? 🤨

logansargeant: unlike you? Yes

oscarpiastri: yeah he’s actually pretty good. but he had a great teacher

yourusername: awww thanks osc! 🧡

user11: oh my god. the emojis are gonna be the death of me

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, estebanocon and 97,455 others

tagged: logansargeant, farmname

yourusername: the animals are primped, preened, and are ready to welcome the grid to dinner! They promise to be on their best behavior!🩵💙

view all comments

user12: omg they are so cute!!! Love them all!

user13: such photogenic pets 😍

maxverstappen1: I’m ready to meet them

logansargeant: they’re always ready to make new friends

yourusername: they do love to meet new people!!

charles_leclerc: how are they with new animals?

yourusername: they love them! All of our animals are extremely friendly

charles_leclerc: merveilleux!

oscarpiastri: is that scout and ranger in the second photo? they’ve gotten so big!

yourusername: it is! And time seems to fly with them in our lives now 😊

user14: oh are they new?

yourusername: they are! We’re a rescue farm and scout and her new puppy were surrendered to us when their family realized they couldn’t give them the care they needed. Ranger was just a newborn puppy — barely a week old

user14: omg that’s so sad and so cute 🥹

f1gossippage

liked by user1, user2 and 790,469 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris, pieregasly, sebastianvettel, lewishamilton

f1gossippage: It seems like the grid is on the move! Recently it has been revealed via an instagram post from logansargeant that the drivers attend a post-season dinner hosted by a fellow driver. This year it’s being held at farmname with logansargeant and apparent girlfriend yourusername hosting. And not only are current grid members invited — notably seen traveling to the United States are Arthur Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux as well as former driver Sebastian Vettel.

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user15: farm seb? Farm Seb? FARM SEB?!?

user16: we get more Sebastian content? Plz plz plz!! Post! More! Photos!

user17: I’m gonna cry if this is all we get. Please yourusername logansargeant post more photos when everyone arrives!

user18: the more I learn about this event the more fomo I get…

user19: user18 gets me. Cause what do you mean I’m not invited to this dinner…

user20: god what I would give to get a full list of everyone going?

user21: right? Like really?

user22: I’d bet money on jenson going! Like that’s his grid kid

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, sebastionvettel, estebanocon, and 590,278 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargeant: dinner prep starts early

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user23: god that looks so good 😋

yourusername: don’t forget about the grill babe!

logansargeant: like you’d ever let me hun

yourusername: 🤨?

logansargeant: I mean, yes dear. Whatever you say 🩵🩵

lilymunhe: you’ve got him well trained!

yourusername: right?

lilymunhe: teach me your ways!

alexalbon: what?

user24: im so jealous right? All of that looks so good and it’s just the prep?

user25: I need more photos of this dinner stat. Most of the gossip pages have the grid already at the farm! Who’s helping? Who’s banned?

yourusername: gonna be honest - most of the current grid is banned. I’ve seen the videos and have heard the stories. Not risking my le creuset

user25: oh god I feel that!

landonorris: hey! We’re not that bad!

charles_leclerc:…

carlossainz55:…

alexalbon:…

georgerussell63:…

landonorris: yeah ok that’s fair

yourusername

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and 890,455 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: oscarpiastri is giving a tour of the farm and its animals

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user26: I’ve never wanted to be an animal more in my life

user27: nurse she’s out again! (I completely agree)

oscarpiastri: ok but you’ve definitely downplayed how many animals you have

logansargeant: dear?

yourusername: 🥹

logansargeant: 🙄

oscarpiastri: 🙄

yourusername: 😊☺️

danielricciardo: what stallions you guys have!

yourusername: they are gentle queens 👑

yukitsunoda0511: I love them. Thank you for having them and letting us ride them!

yourusername: of course!

user28: ok but what is happening Alex and Lily in the fifth pic? Like what is Alex doing???

lilymunhe: his best…

alexalbon: hey!

user29: ok but i love how both Lando and George got cornered by some animals in the 4th and 6th pictures

landonorris: they followed me! Everywhere!

oscarpiastri: this just in! Goats scare lando!

landonorris: you muppet! They’re creepy…

yourusername: 🥹 they just like you lando!

landonorris: if they could like me from a distance I’d prefer that

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 778,445 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargeant: I’d classify dinner as a success! Big thanks to yourusername for everything you do and have done - I wouldn’t be where I am without you and can no longer imagine a life without you. It was a dream to host this dinner with you 🩵

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user30: im? crying?

user31: oh my god same. Like I didn’t expect to open instagram to see such loving words

yourusername: babe 🥹 … I love you so much and there is literally nowhere else I’d rather be then cooking dinner and washing dishes with you

logansargeant: even the most simple of chores sound like a dream if I can do them with you

user32: ok I’ve just been called single in about 12 different ways 😭

oscarpiastri: well I was gonna tease you a little but now…I had a great time on farmname with you guys. Thanks for the wonderful memories

logansargeant: you know you’re always welcome Oscar

yourusername: we’ll keep the lights on and your bedroom prepared

user33: brb just going to cry my eyes out

alexalbon: thank you yourusername and logansargeant - it was a fitting end to the season

yourusername: it was a pleasure to have you! You’re always welcome as well

alexalbon: will definitely take you up on that. Logan mentioned sheep cuddle parties and I need to experience that

logansargeant: it’s definitely something else!

user34: oh my god it looks so pretty! All those fairy lights…

user35: lights? I’m just focused on how much food is apparently there. That’s like 3 different tables…

yourusername: I wasn’t taking any chances. No one goes hungry at my table

charles_leclerc: we definitely didn’t! It really was very good!

maxverstappen1: definitely the best grid dinner I’ve been too!

landonorris: hey!

carlossainz55: mate…4 people got food poisoning last year

landonorris: who said it was cause of my dinner?

georgerussell63: We aren’t taking any chances and you’ve been officially banned from hosting any future dinners

yourusername: im sure it wasn’t that bad landonorris

landonorris: oh no it was. Best not let me host again

user36: who let you host in the first place?!?

georgerussell63: It’s a random draw chosen before summer break and it’s now GPDA policy that landonorris doesn’t have a chance again

lewishamilton: thank you for the invite and for the truly delicious vegan food

yourusername: it was an absolute pleasure! And im glad those dishes came out good 😌 first time cooking vegan so I wasn’t sure…

lewishamilton: really? I definitely couldn’t tell. They were spectacular

yourusername: make sure you take some home then!

[kotoku]

Could I request Dr Ratio with a baker reader who likes to spoil his students? And maybe Ratio gets jealous because he loves reader's baking but they always give him something special?

ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʙᴀᴋᴇʀ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - dr ratio x baker! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ pre and established relationship/ reader dotes on his students lol/ ratio gets jealous/ ratio secretly cares for his students

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ I can imagine Veritas becoming a regular at the bakery you owned, always sitting at his usual spot with a cup of coffee (sometimes a pastry) while grading his students’ works 

↺ You are quite the friendly owner, always chatting with your customers which resulted in you developing a small friendship with the strict doctor

↻ You probably confessed to him first with a box of his favorite pastries, wonderfully decorated with a violet ribbon 

↻ Ever since that day, you two have been inseparable, always popping in during his lectures to give him his lunch, thus meeting his students

↻ At first, they’re stunned, wondering how a man like Veritas bagged a wonderful and kind soul like you

↺ When they voice their surprise, Veritas gives all of them a glare and tells them to get back to work

↻ You laugh at the situation, promising to bring back some sweets for his students which they all cheer at

↻ One by one, you slowly get to know each student, becoming pretty popular amongst their conversations as they swoon over your baking skills and personality

“Thank you Mx. _____!”

“Your sweets are the best!” 

“We’ll be stopping by the bakery later if it’s still open!” 

↻ You start seeing some of Veritas’s students coming into your bakery, always in awe while looking at the menu of delectable food and drinks

↺ Some students would probably offer to become a part-time worker, managing the register or learning your ways of baking

↺ You enjoy their company and help, always thanking them by giving them pastries that haven’t sold out

↻ However, you failed to notice a certain violet-haired man who was slowly becoming jealous by the day 

↺ He didn’t want you going out of your way to make so much pastries, but you insisted so he can’t really complain

↻ When he has had enough, he would voice his feelings when the two of you are in bed, turning away from you so you wouldn’t have to see his irked expression

↺ You can’t help but find his reaction adorable, reassuring him that you always have something special ready for him when you visit

↺ Reflecting back on those times you visited, Veritas noticed that you always gave him something different from his students, something that looked as if you put a lot of time and care into 

↺ Embarrassed, he apologizes for his jealousy and voices his appreciation for your visits and time (you can feel your heart swell at his genuinity)

↻ I feel like at one point, Veritas would offer to help you, making pastries at your bakery and boxing them so they were ready for the next day’s lecture

↺ You promise to not tell his students as he gives you a stern gaze, his face softening at your promise

↺ He’d watch the expressions of his students intensely, gauging their reaction 

↺ To his pleasant surprise, they love it, making him feel proud and satisfied with himself

↻ Honestly, your visits with the box of pastries you always have on hand would probably motivate his students to work and focus, therefore benefitting Veritas lol

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

[cactus-cuddler]

🅒🅞🅤🅡🅣🅢🅘🅓🅔

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word count: 1,7 k

Plot: While reading in a park, you unexpectedly run into one familiar faces—Sam Wilson, your old high school friend, and his colleague, Bucky Barnes. Sam humorously pushing the two of you together. Despite Bucky’s awkwardness and Sam’s meddling, you find yourself drawn to Bucky’s genuine nature, leading to a sweet first date and the promise of more to come.

Author's note: sorry for my bad English

You’re at the park, trying to channel your inner bookworm by reading outside like those romantic novel characters who always seem so serene. The only available bench, however, is inconveniently located in front of a basketball court. At first, it’s peaceful—the court is empty, and the summer breeze is making you feel like this might just be the best idea you've ever had.

But then, the peace shatters as the distant sound of children’s laughter and shouts approaches. You sigh, deciding to stay put. They’re just kids, after all. At least, you hope so. Teenagers, you remind yourself, are a different story. They’re like wild animals—unpredictable, loud, and far too aware of the chaos they can cause. You were one not long ago; you know this all too well.

The court quickly fills with noisy kids, and then, two men join the fray. One is a tall, African American guy with a goatee and sunglasses, exuding confidence. The other is a muscular man with a vibranium arm—yes, vibranium—and a look that says he’d rather be anywhere else. Your book, once a portal to another world, now seems less interesting with these two towering figures before you, dressed in tank tops and basketball shorts like they just stepped out of a fitness magazine.

“Kids, keep it down! There’s a young lady trying to read over here!” the guy with the goatee shouts, pointing directly at you. You blush, sinking into your seat. Great. Now you’re not just a background character; you’re the center of attention. Getting up and leaving would only make things worse.

You lower your head, desperately trying to look absorbed in your book, but the words are just a blur now.

“Hi there, young lady!” The same guy calls out, strolling toward you like he owns the place. The other man, the one with the vibranium arm, follows reluctantly, looking like he’d prefer to melt into the ground. As they get closer, something clicks. You know that voice. It's Sam Wilson—the guy who used to talk to you in high school, the one who was always kind when no one else was.

“Sam?” you blurt out, closing your book and standing up with a smile.

“Hey, beautiful! What brings you here?” he asks, leaning in to kiss your cheeks like no time has passed.

“I live around here,” you reply, and he grins, launching into an explanation about how he and his friend, Bucky Barnes (yes, that Bucky Barnes), teach basketball to local kids.

“This is my buddy Bucky. I wish he’d stop flirting with my sister, though. You seem more his type,” Sam teases, nudging Bucky, who looks mortified.

“I don’t flirt with your sister,” Bucky grumbles, clearly frustrated.

“And what about that look you give her?” Sam presses, and Bucky, flustered, attempts to defend himself.

“It’s called a friendly expression.”

“You don’t know how to be friendly. Admit it, that’s your flirty look,” Sam insists.

“This one?” Bucky flashes a smile that could make hearts stop.

“Tell me if that’s not a flirty look,” Sam asks, turning his gaze to you.

“That’s definitely a flirty look. Very effective, by the way,” you add, earning a high-five from Sam while Bucky rolls his eyes skyward.

“Well, you should be happy if your friend likes your sister,” Bucky retorts.

“Except that friend tried to kill Captain America a couple of times,” Sam quips, and you decide—for your own sanity—to believe that’s a joke.

“You promised not to bring that up again!” Bucky snaps, clearly exasperated, but Sam just pats him on the shoulder.

“So, how about you go out with him?” Sam asks, turning back to you with a grin. “But if he tries anything, just call me. The Falcon will come to your rescue,” he adds with a wink.

You chuckle at Sam’s antics, but there’s something about Bucky that intrigues you. Maybe it’s the quiet strength in his eyes, or the way he’s trying so hard to maintain his cool around Sam’s teasing. Whatever it is, you feel a spark of curiosity.

“Well, if Bucky’s interested, I wouldn’t mind a coffee date,” you say, surprising yourself with your boldness. Bucky’s eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, he looks completely caught off guard.

Sam laughs, clapping Bucky on the back. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a date, Buck!”

Bucky glances at you, checking if you’re serious. You give him a reassuring smile, and he quickly looks away, cheeks tinged with the slightest blush.

"I'm sure you'll get along. He read “The Hobbit” as soon as it came out!" Sam exclaims, and you can't help but be a little impressed.

As the day winds down and the kids' mothers arrive to collect them, Sam invites you to join them for a drink at a nearby bar. You’re eager to catch up with Sam, who you’d lost touch with after high school. You share stories, laugh about old times, and it feels like no time has passed since you last hung out.

"Back in school, Sam was the only one who talked to me. He'd always pop up from nowhere, scare the daylights out of me, and drag me to whatever crazy thing he had planned, like alcoholic parties when he was always finished drunk and try to find me a boyfriend dating his friends" you say, laughing at the memories.

“That sounds annoying,” Bucky adds, and you nod in agreement, much to Sam’s mock offense.

"You seemed so close, why did you stop talking?" Bucky asks while sipping the draft beer he ordered.

"I joined the army, became Falcon and didn't have much time to keep friends anymore," Sam replies looking at the table with nostalgia caressing his face "but every time I feel nostalgic I look at our old photos," he finally says and you smile at him.

As the evening wraps up, you exchange numbers with Sam and Bucky. Just as you’re about to leave, Bucky catches you when Sam isn’t looking.

“So, tomorrow…” you start.

“Let’s meet at the park, if you want,” he suggests, his tone soft but sure. You smile at him, pleasantly surprised by his forwardness.

“I saw that!” Sam shouts, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. You both jump, just like back in high school.

“Damn it, Sam!” Bucky exclaims as Sam bursts into laughter.

The next afternoon, you arrive at the park dressed simply but with a hint of elegance. You didn't want to overdo it, but you wanted to make a good impression. Bucky is already there, playing basketball by himself. You watch him for a few moments—he's really good. When he notices you watching, he blushes slightly, clearly a bit embarrassed.

"Want to take some shots?" he asks, and you nod, knowing full well that you’re terrible at basketball. But Bucky is patient, guiding you through each shot, his hands steadying yours as he stands close behind you. His chest brushes against your back, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. It’s more than a little distracting, but somehow, you manage to score. He smiles, clapping his hands in approval, and you can't help but cheer.

“They’ll definitely sign me to the NBA by the end of the day, right?” you joke.

“Absolutely. A tall man in a suit will show up any second now,” he replies, chuckling. You both share a laugh, and he gives you a look that’s all kinds of sweet.

After you’re both too tired to keep playing, Bucky surprises you with a bouquet of flowers he’d hidden on the sidelines. You’re impressed, and silently thank yourself for always carrying deodorant and perfume. You offer him some deodorant, and he accepts without hesitation, even though it’s clearly for women.

“Perfume?” you ask, holding out the bottle, and he shakes his head, probably thinking it’s too “girly.” But you spray some on him anyway, and he starts coughing, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Has Sam rubbed off on you with his disregard for people’s choices?” he teases, and you giggle at his joke.

You walk side by side, talking about your lives. You find yourself increasingly fascinated by him. Compared to his epic saga, your life feels like a short story, but he listens intently, making you feel like every word you say matters.

“I had a great time. Thank you,” you say as you stand in front of your door, smiling up at him.

“Me too,” he replies, his voice soft. You lean in, leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek. You can see the blush creep up his face, and it only makes him more endearing. You're already thinking about your next date—this one went far better than you could have imagined.

Just as you’re about to say goodbye, Sam appears out of nowhere, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Guys, this date is missing all the essentials!” he exclaims, causing both you and Bucky to jump. Bucky groans, clearly exasperated.

“No candlelit dinner? No romantic phrases? Not even a kiss under the moon? Come on, guys! I’m trying to organize a wedding by the end of the summer. We don’t have time to take things slow,” he jokes, winking at you.

“Don’t listen to him. We can take our time and see each other again,” Bucky reassures you, his eyes locking with yours in a way that makes your heart flutter.

“You could’ve at least taken her to your place and shown her your amazing couch!” Sam insists, clearly not ready to let it go.

“You’ve never even been to my house! Stop talking about my couch,” Bucky grumbles, rolling his eyes. You can’t help but laugh at their banter—it’s clear these two have a friendship built on teasing and mutual respect.

"You two have another date tomorrow," Sam finally declares, pointing at both of you with a smug grin. Bucky waves goodbye, and as he turns to leave with Sam, you can't help but feel a warm sense of anticipation for what’s to come. Sam, of course, is already giving Bucky a barrage of unsolicited tips on how to "improve" the next date.

As they walk away, you stand there for a moment, still smiling, your heart light and your mind already replaying the best moments of the day. You’re looking forward to seeing Bucky again—he’s sweet, awkward in the most charming way, and there’s a connection between you that feels genuine, like something that could really grow.

And as much as you appreciate Sam’s meddling, you’re glad that Bucky wants to take things slow, to give you both the time to get to know each other. It’s refreshing and makes you even more excited for tomorrow.

As you head inside, you can still hear Sam's voice in the distance, likely teasing Bucky about that "flirty look" of his. You laugh to yourself, feeling grateful for the unexpected turn your day took. It’s funny how life works—what started as a quiet afternoon at the park with a book turned into something so much more.

[7s3ven]

GREEK ROMANTIC. luke castellan

IN WHICH… luke castellan joins an exchange program to visit camp jupiter for sword fighting experience but ends up spending most of his time with a girl from said roman camp.

Warnings : lowkey loser! Luke, kinda long… so uh yeah, Luke kinda thirsts over reader (he’s 19 and has spent most of his time in a camp, he does not get girls), i worked on this for like a week (PLZZZ READ AND LIKE AND COMMENT AND SUBSCRIBE 🫡), less strict version of Camp Jupiter

—

idea inspired by @the-empty-refrigerator !

I literally do classical studies, this is perfect for me to yap abt my roman knowledge. I have no idea what Camp Jupiter looks like so imma just use my Roman architecture knowledge for this. THIS IS MY FIRST LUKE FIC IN A WHILE LOL.

( disclaimer : info will differ from this fic to the canon plot bc i don’t know much abt camp jupiter )

In all honesty, Luke was a little nervous. He had willingly signed up for an exchange program between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter but now that he was on his way to the latter, he was anxiously bouncing his leg.

Years ago, there was a thick mist between the two camps due to previous events involving bloody wars. Now, that mist was lifted and the campers were free to sign up for an exchange program to visit the other.

Luke was wondering why he had agreed to sign up in the first place. Chiron promised he’d gain further experience in sword fighting, but warned that it wouldn’t be easy.

Camp Half-Blood prided itself on its friendly approach. Camp Jupiter was anything but that. Their campers were rugged, harsh, and disciplined by Lupa, the wolf who raised Romulus and Remus. Of course, their war-like nature made sense because the camp was founded on bloodshed when Romulus slayed Remus.

Luke lifted his head, looking around to see if he could spot anyone in a purple shirt. He was waiting on the side of the road, looking rather pathetic and sad to those passing by.

A black car with tinted windows rolled to a stop in front of Luke, and the car jolted open. “Are you Luke Castellan?” The demigod inside asked. Luke slowly nodded his head. “Hop in.” There was a bit of awkward shuffling from Luke to squeeze past the unnecessary amount of swords in the car. “So, how’s Camp Half-Blood?” The demigod driving questioned, looking at Luke through his shaded sunglasses.

“Good…” Luke was secretly relieved that someone was talking to avoid an awkward car ride. “Probably less demanding than Camp Jupiter, though. I’ve heard horror stories of your training from campers.”

The boy laughed as he sharply turned around a corner. “Yeah. It’s pretty bad. Made me wish I was a normal kid when I had to do all those pushups.” He paused before starting a new conversation. “Do you workout? Because you’ve got some nice muscles. Not to be weird or anything.”

“Uh, yeah.” Luke cleared his throat, “I sort of have to. Being a swordsman and all that.”

The other demigod whistled. “Must be hard, man. I’m Sohan, by the way. Son of Mercury, Hermes for you.”

Luke leaned forward, “I’m son of Hermes. That makes us like… distantly related or something.” Sohan laughed and tilted his head back.

“I like you, Castellan. Mind if I call you Luke?”

“Go ahead.”

The rest of the drive was each demigod taking their turn to explain different parts of their camps. Luke realized that Camp Jupiter didn’t have all the fun activities Half-Blood had. Though, there was a more bloody version of Capture the Flag.

“So you know how you have camp councillors, right? We have something similar but we call them praetors. They’re basically the leaders of the camp.” Sohan explained as he bit into his sugary chocolate bar. “We have two at a time, one girl and one guy.”

“So there’s only two leaders?” Luke questioned while opening the wrapping of his cheeseburger.

“Praetors are the highest leaders. Other than that, we have centurions, augurs, and quaestors. It’s confusing, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. You don’t really need to know what everybody does, just who’s who.”

It was all too confusing for Luke.

“Our current male praetor is also a son of Mercury, his name’s Jae. Our other one is a daughter of Venus, Aphrodite for you. I think.” Sohan paused before shaking his head, dismissing his doubt. “We all thought she was kind of crazy for going after the position. That’s when I learnt to never underestimate a child of Venus because they are brutal.” Sohan chuckled as the car finally came to an abrupt halt.

Luke peeked out the window, gazing at the tall trees. Past the thick forest, he could faintly see a river.

Sohan grabbed the swords from beside Luke, sheepishly chuckling. “New sword delivery.” He uttered, “Didn’t have time to put them away. Some are still in a box.”

Luke merely hummed as he hopped out of the car. “Need help?” He questioned. He took a handful of swords from Sohan’s pile, easily supporting their weight. Sohan carefully stacked a box on top of everything else before nodding.

“You know, if I was a girl or gay, I’d have a crush on you.” Sohan uttered as the pair walked through the forest. “How do the girls at Half-Blood like you?”

“I’ve been chased multiple times. That should say it all.” Nothing was scarier to Luke than a hoard of girls sprinting towards him on Valentine’s Day.

“That’s the Tiber River.” Sohan pointed out as Luke stumbled into a sunny clearing. “The river that Romulus and Remus were thrown into.” Sohan led the way towards small, slightly unstable bridge. He effortlessly walked over it, ignoring the way the rickety wood creaked.

Luke sighed, having no choice but to follow after Sohan unless he wanted to swim.

“I’ll be the one showing you around. I just have to drop these swords off with the praetors, or at least one of them, and then we can begin.” Sohan piped up. He was shorter than Luke with shiny black hair and olive skin. Luke assumed he was Asian with the slight accent peeking through and the red-inked tattoo on his shoulder displaying a dragon with Chinese characters.

“Praetor!” Sohan suddenly shouted. Luke spotted the H/C-haired girl as she turned around, in the middle of talking with another camper. Luke couldn’t instantly tell who her mother was.

“Oh, the swords. Soldier, go find Praetor Jae.” Y/N hurried the other girl off before jogging towards Sohan.

“This is Luke Castellan. The exchange camper.” Sohan said, trying to gesture towards Luke. The action caused the box on top of the swords to slip. It opened, a group of swords toppling out.

Luke was quick to react. Instead of attempting to catch every sword, he simply grabbed Y/N and pulled her side before the swords could skewer her.

There was a second of silence before Sohan spoke up. “I apologise for my clumsiness, Praetor.” He immediately crouched down to rearrange the weapons, his movements so fast Luke thought they were rehearsed.

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line as she stared at the swords on the ground. Her gaze flickered to Luke, who still had a tight grip on her arm. “Luke Castellan, right?” She asked, lips curving into a small yet charming smile.

Sohan looked at Y/N then at Luke. “I need to talk to Praetor Jae about something important. Praetor, would you mind showing Luke around?” Sohan didn’t wait for an answer before clumsily hurrying off, dropping swords every two seconds.

“You forget these swords!” Luke called after him but Sohan wasn’t listening.

“Dump them here with the rest.” Y/N instructed with a shrug. Luke dropped the swords, watching as they hit the floor with a loud clang. “Let’s get started with the tour.” She formally clasped her hands behind her back, standing up straighter than Luke had ever seen somebody stand.

“This is the Praetorian Gate, the entrance to the main barracks. On your right is the bathrooms. This street is called the Via Principalis, it’s the central road lined with barracks, the mess hall, and other necessaries needed for our wellbeing.”

Luke was a little stunned with how Y/N was speaking. She was talking like her words were scripted and had been practiced a million times in the mirror. Luke usually free-styled his tours.

“Centurion Sohan will show you your room once he finishes with his errand. For now, all you need to know is that you’ll be staying in one of these buildings. Behind them is the compost bin. Please do not jump in there because we have had to go dumpster diving to retrieve Half-Blood campers.”

Luke let out a quiet sigh. “It was Travis, wasn’t it?”

“You know him?” Y/N questioned, looking over her shoulder in mild interest.

“Unfortunately. He’s my brother.”

Y/N silently nodded, holding back a comment. “Beside the compost bin, where your raccoon of a brother jumped into for a game of hide and seek, are the stables.” Y/N led Luke down a smaller path to show him the stables. He glanced at the bin, arching an eyebrow at a badly drawn version of Travis on a sign with a large X on it.

“We had to ensure nobody else jumped in again.” Y/N explained, “So we put up a sign. It’s not very well-drawn. All the Apollo kids were away so we had no one artistic around. Over there is the training centre. Feel free to use it whenever. We have plenty of new swords as you already know.”

“What about those buildings?” Luke asked in curiosity as they walked back towards the main entrance.

“That’s the Praetorium and Principa, used to hold meetings and act as headquarters. Those aren’t important to you.”

Camp Jupiter was bigger than Luke expected. There were two main areas for civilisation and even a university.

“This is the forum. This area of camp is basically a replicant of Rome itself.” Y/N piped up, “There’s the senate house, also used for meetings, New Rome University, the Coliseum where we sometimes train or host mock battles, Circus Maximum, again used for training, sometimes chariot racing, ceremonies, and so on. There’s a lake over there if you ever wanna spend your free time swimming, but I will warn you that if you ever take your shirt off, it will attract attention.” Y/N teasingly smiled, confusing Luke. She was strictly sticking to her job as a praetor a moment ago, reciting a speech about the camp.

“Uh… why will it attract attention?” Luke sheepishly asked, feeling a little embarrassed for not catching on.

“You’re a new boy, Luke Girls here love fresh meat, especially when they have as much muscle as you.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed light pink. “Right.” He uttered, suddenly aware of how a group of girls was waiting for Y/N to leave so they could pounce on him. “Let’s uh, go back to the bin. I wanna see that sign of my brother again.”

Y/N slightly chuckled. “They aren’t gonna hurt you, Castellan.” She said, referring to the girls behind her, “Unless you want them to.”

“I would prefer to keep all my limbs attached to my body, thank you very much.”

Y/N cracked another amused smile. “Suit yourself. I like my boys missing an arm.” She joked.

“Guess I’ll cut mine off then after all.” Luke wittily retorted.

“We have a game of capture the flag happening tonight if you want to join.” Y/N offered, “You can sacrifice your arm for me then.”

Luke grinned, happy he was actually getting along with someone from Camp Jupiter given their rivalry with Half-Blood. “I’ve heard your games of Capture the flag are a little more harsher… to what extent is that actually true?”

Y/N quietly laughed. “It’s Roman style, someone will probably lose an eye to be honest.” She said it in such a joking tone but there was a look in her eyes that alerted Luke she wasn’t joking.

—

Luke would definitely come to regret even thinking about joining this game of capture the flag. The teams weren’t organised by Cabins, instead each leader strategically chose their members months before the actual game to ensure a high chance of victory.

Luke ended up standing across from Y/N, dressed in golden armour and holding a sword that seemed to be a little too heavy. Sohan was with Luke, checking his arrows.

“They still allow you to use how and arrows?” Luke questioned, remembering how said weapon was banned from Half-Blood’s game of capture the flag because of an incident.

“What’s fun without a little arrow wound?” Sohan joked. Luke slowly turned his head, eyes wider than usual.

“Not being stabbed by an arrow seems more fun.” He muttered to himself.

He glanced at Y/N, who was carelessly swinging her long spear around. She met his gaze and paused for a second before lightly dragging her thumb over her throat with a patronising grin.

Luke gulped. “She’s gonna kill me.” He whispered.

“Oh, good! That means she likes you.” Sohan nudged Luke with a smile, “The harder she tries to kill you, the more she likes you.”

“That seems a little contradictory.” Luke replied, almost shaking.

“When the bell rings, and trust me you’ll hear it, just follow me. We’re paired together to hide and defend the flag. All you have to do is hide and jump out to stop the opponents. They’ll think it’s only me and then, bam! You come in.” Sohan explained the plan to Luke, who was listening intently so he wasn’t the one to lose an eye.

Sohan tightly gripped the flag in his grasp. “We have ten minutes to plant the flag somewhere. A second bell will ring and that means the game has started.”

Luke nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. A loud bell suddenly rang out through the clearing and Sohan immediately sprung into action. He sprinted off and Luke scrambled to follow him.

“This way!” Sohan exclaimed as he sharply turned to the left. Luke leaped over a log, landing heavily on the hard dirt. The forest should have felt familiar since Half-Blood also played surrounded by trees but this felt different. Luke had no idea where they were going until Sohan came to an abrupt stop.

“Here should be good.” He panted.

Luke looked around. They were surrounded by heavy vegetation and he was barely able to see past the thick tree leaves. Sohan lodged the flag between two stones and nodded in approval.

“The bell will be ringing soon. Hide over there.” Sohan ordered, pointing at a bush beside the flag. Luke sighed as he ducked behind the bush, the twigs below him scraping at his knees. “I hate this hiding place.” He muttered, “I feel like a Guinea pig.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” Sohan replied. “The bell should be ringing any second now. Remember to stay quiet.”

Luke silently rolled his eyes as he ducked lower to the floor in order to get comfortable and peek past the bush branches. In the distance, he could hear the sound of the second bell ringing followed by loud shouts varying in volume. Some kids at Half-Blood, mainly the Ares kids, loved battle cries but not to that extent.

Luke waited ten minutes and when nothing happened, he resorted to lying on his back. Twenty minutes passed and there was still no sign of any other demigods. Luke had resorted to seeing how many leaves he could count before he heard a quiet rustle. He paused, waiting.

Everything was still before Luke heard weapons clash loudly together. He peered above the bush, instantly recognising Y/N past her bronze helmet. There was another kid reaching for the flag while Sohan was struggling with Y/N.

Luke quickly reached for his sword, flinging it at the Roman demigod before he could grasp the flag. The handle hit him in the face, temporarily stunning him. Luke was swift to jump out and grab his sword, holding it in front of him.

“Sorry ‘bout that, man.” Luke uttered. He swung his blade at the demigod boy, who he later realized was named Nikolai because of the inscription in his helmet.

Nikolai counterattacked Luke, effortlessly pushing the Greek brunette back. Luke was reluctant to injure a kid he barely knew but Sohan continuously shouting “hit him” was getting annoying.

Luke grabbed Nikolai by the shoulders, shoving him away from the flag. Sohan was battling against Y/N, who had a spear similar to Clarisse’s. Compared to her spear, Sohan’s bow and arrows and backup dagger wouldn’t be of much use.

Nikolai swung his sword at Luke but every time, Luke managed to block the hits. Luke pushed Nikolai’s sword away, but he underestimated his strength and the sword went flying.

Both Nikolai and Luke turned their heads to stare at the weapon lying on the floor.

“Hit him!” Sohan exclaimed through gritted teeth as he held Y/N back by her arm.

Luke, on instinct, punched Nikolai’s shoulder and scrambled for his sword. He leaned over to grasp it but he was unexpectedly kicked from behind.

Y/N, who Sohan should have been holding back, had knocked the son of Mercury to the ground and made an instant beeline for Luke.

“Don’t chop my head off!” Luke yelled as he rolled to the left to avoid Y/N’s sword as she forcefully swung it down. Luke kicked her ankles, causing her to sway.

Nikolai made another reach for the flag but Sohan managed to shoot an arrow his way, luckily not hitting the boy but it served as a warning.

“You said this was an easy job!” Luke yelled at Sohan as Y/N made another attempt to hit Luke. He tried to strike her ankles again but the same trick wouldn’t fool the praetor twice. She effortlessly pulled him up and slammed his back against a tree, holding a smaller knife to his throat.

“I am literally so scared right now.” Luke wheezed as he wiggled around in Y/N’s surprisingly strong grip. Sohan shot another arrow, this time at Y/N. It barely missed her head. While she was shocked for a second, Luke grabbed her by both shoulders and pushed her back.

“We got a runner!” Another voice suddenly shouted. A member of Y/N’s team, sprinted into the area, followed by two boys from Luke and Sohan’s group.

Sohan scrambled to stop the runner aiming for the flag but Nikolai knocked him back to the ground. Luke made the executive decision to pursue the runner. There wasn’t much Luke could do with his sword so he tossed it aside and did the only other thing he could think of; he tackled the other demigod.

Y/N let out a laugh as the two boys toppled down a hill, each trying to let the other take the brute of the floor. Luke groaned as he spat out a mouthful of daisies. His helmet had fallen off somewhere and he had no energy to actively search for it.

The bell rung once more and the demigod beside Luke sighed as he removed his helmet, running a hand through his messy blond hair.

“You’re the Greek kid, right?” He questioned. “I’m Kato.”

“Yeah. Luke, nice to meet you.”

“Do you also feel like you’ve got internal bleeding?” Kato grumbled as the two boys made no effort to sit up, instead choosing to just lie on the floor among the flowers.

“Oh, definitely.” Luke replied, “Think I might be sick later.”

—

“You both have bruised ribs. Honestly, it could have been worse. Drinking this will help.” An Apollo kid handed Kato and Luke a foul smelling drink.

“It’s best to get it over and down with.” Kato whispered, “Cheers.”

“Not sure if I actually want to consume this.” Luke wrinkled up his nose but tilted his head back away.

The pair gulped down the liquid as fast as they could, both gagging once they had finished.

“Wow, you guys are almost like twins. If Kato had brown hair, you guys might actually sell it.”

Kato and Luke exchanged a look before they both grinned.

“I didn’t know there was temporary hair dye.” Kato said as he stared down at the box. Y/N sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

“Do you want it or not? Coloured hair spray might be easier for you.”

“Yeah, give me that.” Kato threw the box of temporary dye aside. Luke easily caught it, handing it to Y/N.

“Thanks.” She smiled before looking through a trunk of hair supplies. “Good game out there, Castellan. Are you always that quick thinking on your feet?”

Luke shrugged as he stood beside Y/N, leaning on the bunk bed behind him. “I guess? Most of the time we have to think quickly at Half-Blood. We don’t exactly have strategies for every little thing.”

Y/N and Kato stared at Luke in mild surprise. Y/N let out a quiet huff, “I guess you Greeks are disorganised like Lupa said.”

“She said what?” Luke stood up straight. “We aren’t that disorganised. We still have tactics.”

“Yeah, and they kind of, forgive my language here, suck.”

“At least my whole existence isn’t based on a brother who killed his sibling because of anger issues.” Luke muttered loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“You are so dead, Castellan.” Y/N retorted, leaning forward.

“I don’t really want to use the same threat as you because that’s boring. But I will kick your ankle again.” Luke replied.

Kato cleared his throat. “Don’t mean to interrupt whatever… lover argument you have going on but how does this spray work?”

“The cap’s still on. You gotta take it off first.” Y/N exasperatedly sighed.

“Oh, yeah, got it. Go back to your lovers quarrel.”

Y/N picked up an empty box of hair dye, tossing it at Kato. “There is no lovers quarrel!” She exclaimed.

“Really? Bc I felt something.” Luke teasingly piped up from behind her.

“I hope you choke.” Y/N mumbled, sending Luke a warning glare. “Maybe I should’ve cut off your arm. Would’ve taught you a reason.”

“I’ll just take my shirt off because like you said, no one can resist me.” Luke grinned as they bantered back and forth.

“Don’t rely on your looks to escape me, Castellan. Next time we play capture the flag, I’m kicking you down another hill no matter whose team you’re in.” There was a knock on the door and a rough-looking teenager peeked his head inside.

His body was covered in cuts, grazes, and purple bruises. He had a slit in his left eyebrow and an earring dangling from his right ear. When he turned to Y/N and said something in Latin, Luke noticed a shiny piercing on his tongue.

“Castellan, right?” The boy asked, pointing at Luke. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jae, the other praetor.” Jae stepped forward and reached for Luke’s hand, firmly shaking it.

“Nice to meet you.” Luke greeted him.

“I see you’ve already found yourself acquainted with the devil reincarnated.” Jae slyly grinned at Y/N, who could do nothing but huff and cross her arms over her chest in annoyance. “I’ve got to borrow Praetor Y/N for a second, hope you boys don’t mind.”

Y/N sighed as she followed Jae out the door. “This couldn’t have waited?” She asked.

“I was reluctant to interfere. You and the Castellan boy seemed quite close.” Jae replied with a shrug.

“I will literally feed you to the monsters if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“She likes you.” Kato uttered once Y/N was out of ear range.

“How can you tell?” Luke arched an eyebrow as he sat down on a nearby chair.

“She never argues with anyone. Not like that at least. When she argues, you have to listen because there’s no choice. That was more like… bickering used as an excuse to talk to you.” Kato said as he finally put down the can of hair spray. “Yo, we kind of do look alike. That’s freaky.”

Luke ignored Kato’s last point. “How do you know she doesn’t bicker?”

“Praetor Y/N is a straight to the point type of girl. You’ll know when she doesn’t like something. If she was really arguing with you, she would’ve had you shut up within your first two words.” Kato laughed, “She made me shut up once by shoving the words down my throat… literally. She wrote my words on a piece of paper and made me eat it.”

Kato paused, shivering as he remembered the chilling moment. “Anyway, Centurion Sohan, me, and a couple of other guys are going to the lake for a swim. You wanna join?”

“Yeah, sure, why not. I’ll act as eye candy like Y/N described me.” Luke sarcastically said, making Kato chuckle.

“Trust me, the girls will love you.” Kato only reassured Y/N’s point.

There were already a few smaller groups at the lake when Luke and the others arrived. As Luke combed a hand through his hair, he noticed a few girls looking his way and giggling. Kato nudged him.

“See? Told you they’d love you.”

Luke simply nodded. He lifted his shirt to pull it off but unexpectedly saw Y/N not too far away, locked in what seemed to be a serious conversation with Jae. Her eyebrows were tensely furrowed before her gaze suddenly switched to Luke.

He almost jumped at how fast her eyes moved. He quickly pulled his shirt off, giving Y/N a small wave. She slightly raised her eyebrows but never looked away. Slowly, she waved back.

Jae finished speaking and Y/N nodded, pointing to her right and uttering a few more words before they split ways.

“Wow, you two really do look like twins.” Y/N said as she looked at Luke and Kato. “You sure you don’t share a mother?”

“You out here for a swim too?” Luke questioned, squinting under the bright sun.

“No. I came here to check out the guys and pick my next murder victim.”

“How charming. And I thought what we had was special when you threatened to roll me down a hill again.”

“I’m saving you for last, Castellan. When the police find my victims, I’ll ask you to hide me then I’ll stab you in the back.”

“You know what I’m craving right now?” Luke switched the topic, “A pina colada.”

Y/N stared at Luke for a minute before furrowing her eyebrows. “Is that… some sort of drink?”

She heard Luke dramatically gasp. “You’ve never tried one?! Lucky for you, I’m a master at making cocktails. Just sit here, look pretty, and choose your next target. I’ll be right back.”

That was how Y/N found herself hanging around Luke almost every day, trying different cocktail mixtures he made while sitting under a large umbrella to avoid the heat.

“Why’d you put so much vodka in this one?” Y/N questioned, frowning, “It’s all I can taste.”

“My hand slipped.” Luke shrugged. He was lying on a towel beside Y/N, taking advantage of the sun to gain that perfect summer tan, as he liked to call it. “How come you never join your friends in the water?” He questioned, glancing over at Jae and a few other campers who were beckoning Y/N over.

“I don’t like water.” She covered her eyes with her shaded sunglasses, ignoring her friends. “It messes up my hair.”

“I’ll go swimming then. I think my back is turning red now.” Luke stood up, stretching. Y/N gulped down the rest of her drink, carelessly throwing the cup to the side as she jumped to her feet.

“I’ll come if you’re going.” She announced.

“Why the sudden change in attitude?” Luke teased, nudging her.

“I will force your head under water and let you drown.” Y/N deadpanned, causing Luke to take a small step back. Luke reached for his water bottle and took a large sip while Y/N peeled her shirt off. Luke’s eyes flickered to her for a second before his cheeks turned red and he spat out a mouthful of water.

Y/N looked at him weirdly, a judging glint in her eyes. “You good?” She asked.

“Yeah… fine.” Luke choked out.

Y/N didn’t believe him. She looked down at her bikini with bows and ruffles before raising an eyebrow. “Are you staring at my boobs?” She accused him.

“No! Are you staring at my abs?!” Luke tried to change the conversation but his attempt backfired.

“Yes. You’ve got nice abs.” Y/N shamelessly admitted like a true Roman, never scared to state the obvious.

“Well, in that case, you’ve got nice boobs.” Luke wanted to punch himself as soon as he said that.

“It doesn’t sound right when you say that to a girl.” Y/N scrunched up her face which only made Luke’s desire to be swallowed by the ground stronger.

“I realised that.”

“Praetor! Luke! Are you gonna keep chatting or finally get in the water?!” Sohan yelled from his position on a rock in the water.

“My makeup’s gonna get all ruined.” Y/N huffed but still dipped a leg into the lake. “It’s cold.”

“Lake’s are usually cold.” Luke retorted, not hesitating to jump into the deep end of the lake. Water splashed everywhere and Y/N shielded her face from the droplets.

“Watch it!” She yelled out a warning at Luke as he resurfaced, grinning.

“Oops.” He sarcastically apologised.

Y/N sat down at the shore’s edge, soaking her legs in the lake. “I’m good here.” She said, kicking her legs.

“You sure? The water isn’t that cold once you get used to it.” Luke swam closer to her and heaved himself up onto the warm rock.

Y/N kicked the water again, nodding. “Yeah… I’ll ruin my hair and makeup if I get in.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear but it slipped out again, much to her annoyance.

She frowned, reaching for it again, but Luke beat her to it. “You’re pretty without makeup.” He said as he securely tucked the strand away.

Y/N glanced at the boy beside her, suddenly feeling very small. Luke made her feel vulnerable, not necessarily in a bad way. His deep brown eyes made her want to pour out every secret.

Like how she secretly hated an Apollo boy because he kept beating her to the last piece of cake.

Or how she cheated on every English paper in school to raise her GPA because she simply couldn’t read properly.

Or perhaps about how she was afraid of love, despite being the daughter of Venus herself. That fear always made Y/N feel a little stupid.

Or… how she couldn’t swim and refused to swim because she almost drowned once while her so-called friends laughed at her.

“Castell- Luke…” She quickly corrected herself, realising how accustomed she had become to Luke’s presence. “I can’t swim.” She blurted out. “My hair and makeup don’t matter… I just can’t swim. And I don’t want to swim.”

Luke carelessly shrugged and for a second, Y/N was scared he’d dismiss her fear.

“I’ll stay here with you then.” He said instead. “I’ll keep you company.”

“You can swim if you want to.” Y/N replied, fidgeting with her hands. Her heart leaped in her chest and her stomach felt queasy. Was this a crush?

“Nah. I like it here better.” Luke shifted closer to Y/N, slowly slinging an arm around her shoulder. He was expecting her to immediately shove him away but she remained still. Her back was rigidly straight until she hesitatingly relaxed.

“Thank you.” She said as the sun began to set, hues of orange, yellow, and blue painting the sky and reflecting into the lake. Y/N was surrounded by laughing demigods and legacies but she could only focus on Luke; how his hair looked perfect despite being damp, how his skin glistened in the sun, and how his arm was wrapped tightly around her as if he was protecting her from something.

For once, she felt safe. There was no quest she was required to complete, no glory to seek for the Legion, and no heavy exceptions weighing her down.

It was just her and Luke sitting beside each other in comfortable silence.

—

“Are you sure you have to go?” Sohan asked as he tightly clung to Luke, fully prepared to force the son of Hermes to stay.

“My little sister’s waiting for me.” Luke said as he hugged Sohan back, firmly patting his shoulder. Annabeth. Luke had told Y/N about his sister; they weren’t related by blood but she was his found family.

“Make sure to visit and right.” Jae uttered as he struggled to pull Sohan away from Luke. Y/N stood silently next to Jae, holding Luke’s bag.

“Have a safe trip.” She told him, which wasn’t the goodbye Luke had been expecting. He envisioned a small smile, maybe a hug if Y/N was in a good mood.

“Thanks. Good luck with your praetorian duties.” Luke replied, nodding his head.

“You ready to go?” Kato piped up, throwing the car keys in the air and effortlessly catching them.

“Yeah… I guess.” Luke muttered, stealing another glance at Y/N.

‘KISS HER!’ His mind screamed at him. This would be his last opportunity to address the feelings he had caught for Venus’ favourite daughter.

Jae and Sohan looked at each other then at Y/N, who seemed to be restraining all emotions. They almost seemed like they were begging her to make a move on Luke before it was too late.

“Bye, Y/N.” Luke stuck out his hand and Y/N didn’t hesitate to grab it.

“Good bye, Castellan. Camp Jupiter will miss you.”

Luke knew Y/N was too prideful to say ‘I’ll miss you’. This was her alternative.

Luke and Y/N stared at each other with their hands still gripping the other before they finally halted the awkward exchange.

Luke followed Kato towards the car, somewhat hoping Y/N would chase after him. She didn’t.

Y/N watched with her head held high to conceal her frown as Luke walked away, waiting for the moment he’d turn around and run back. He never did. He passed the stone arch that acted as entrance to Camp Jupiter, most likely to never return and if he ever did, it’d be in a few long years.

—

A year had passed since Luke’s departure from the Roman Demigod camp. He was pleased to be back at Half-Blood, but there was someone who was missing. As expected, some Aphrodite girls showed strong interest in Luke, but he never paid them attention.

They were beautiful, but Luke missed the girl who would threaten to throw him to the wolves if he even looked at her. He found her guarded personality charming.

“Luke, Chiron needs you to show one of the exchange campers from Jupiter around.” Chris, Luke’s brother, said. “She’s the last one.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Luke spent months hoping Y/N would show up randomly one day but after three, he gave up. He had heard from Sohan’s regularly written letters, which often featured Jae and Kato too, that Y/N was busier than ever as a praetor. She had doubled her work load, working until she quite literally passed out. Sohan expressed his concerns but didn’t quite know what was wrong.

“She’s waiting in the strawberry field.” Chris told Luke, pointing him in the right direction.

Luke took his sweet time in walking towards the field, his hands shoved into his pockets. There was a figure standing amongst the strawberries, admiring the various flowers and berries.

“Late as usual, Castellan. How Greek of you.”

Luke’s eyes lit up at the sight of the girl in front of him. He cracked a large grin. “What can I say, Y/N? I’m a true Greek demigod.”

FIN.

A/N: while writing this, I was randomly reminded of an old classic book I read where the main characters are clearly in love but know they’ll never see each other again after they split ways. And now I’m sad.

PJO TAG LIST (will update later, I’m tired 😴): @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @jennapancake @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @be-bap @kamiliora @2hiigh2cry @gisellesprettylies @ur-lacol-dsylexic @lilacspider @lukecastellandefender