#the counters all feel so good to pull off

[classyrbf]

CAN U PLZ DO BABY DADDY SUKUNA AND SURUGU TOO?? (i love u)

THAT'S JUST MY BABY DADDY! #3 — GETO + SUKUNA

SYNOPSIS...geto and sukuna being annoying baby daddies that still make their way into your pants

INFO...sukuna x fem!reader, geto x fem!reader, p in v, sloppy kisses, baby daddy drama (yk the drill), jealousy, alcohol mentioned, possessiveness, choking, spanking

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thanks for the request anon (i love you too)

part 1 part 2

SUKUNA

you finally got your daughter down to sleep, placing her stuffie beside her, shutting her light off and walking out her room. Just as you were getting ready to wash the dishes, your doorbell rang, an annoyed sigh leaving your lips. “Who the hell is ringing my doorbell so late?” You stomp over to the door. “Who is it?” You call out.

“Ryo!” No one other than your baby daddy. As if you weren’t already annoyed, you roll your eyes and open the door to see him standing there. His eyes rake over your body as if he didn’t see you just an hour ago when he dropped his daughter off. “I left her blanket at my place. Thought I bring it back.” He stepped into your house without hesitation.

“Damn, well come on in,” you scoff, shutting the door behind him. He tosses the blanket on the couch. “She’s sleeping, so don’t wake her.” You walk towards the sink, turning it on.

He hums in response, walking around your house, seeing how tidy you keep it, remembering all the moments you two shared before breaking up. He ever so carefully walks up behind you, leaning against the counter. He just looks at you, smirking to himself. “I can feel you staring, weirdo.” You glance over your shoulder.

He laughs, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Can you blame me?” He exhales, stepping closer and closer until he’s inches away from you. His hands reach out and snake around your waist, startling you. “How’ve you been?” He asks, his sultry tone sending chills down your spine.

You shake your head at his weak attempt to get in your pants. “Leave me alone, Ryomen.” You nudge him with your elbow.

“Come on! I know you’re not getting good dick anywhere else. When was the last time we did it, huh? A month?” He questions. You groan in annoyance, turning the sink off and drying your hands on the towel.

“That was the final time.” You stare at him. “We promised no more after that.”

“You really think I meant it? Think a promise is gonna keep me away from you?” He cages you in between him and the counter.

“I’m not just some girl you’re gonna fuck when you wanna get your dick wet.” You push him away from you and walk over to the couch to grab your daughter’s blanket. “Find someone else.”

He laughs at your stubbornness, trailing behind you. “You know no one tastes or feels as good as you. Why do you think I keep coming back, hm?” He narrows his eyes at you.

“Ryomen, I’m not doing this shit with you tonight. Get your dick wet somewhere else,” you say, annoyance in your tone. His warm hands find your waist once again and he’s pulling you closer to him. His soft lips kiss down your neck and back up towards your jaw.

“Just once more. I swear that’ll be the last time,” he whispers. And you don’t know if he casted some type of spell on you or something because within the next five minutes he was in your bed.

Your knees were pushed to your chest, a long whine leaving your lips every time he hit your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “Feel so fucking good around me,” he grunts, pressing his forehead against yours. “That’s right, lemme look into those eyes, show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re clinging onto his biceps, nails leaving crescent marks in his skin the harder and faster he goes. God, you hate to admit how good it feels. How good he feels. “Mmmm, Ryo. Fuck!” You moan, your jaw slack as pushes his cock deeper.

“Can feel this pussy squeezing me. You gonna cum, baby? Yeah? Yeah?” He coos, a smug smile on his face as he pushes your legs farther. “There you go, baby. Yes, cum all on my dick. Goddamn.” He watches your eyes roll back, a soft cry leaving your lips, your body shaking.

“This…this is the last time!” You manage to speak, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Shut up.” He kisses you sloppily, swiping his tongue against yours, continuing to pound your poor cunt. He knows this won’t be the last just as much as you know. You’re only saying it to make yourself feel better about cumming on his dick so easily.

GETO

after a stressful week, you were finally able to go out and have fun with your best friend, Shoko, while Utahime offered to watch your daughter for the night. It felt good to get out, drinking, dancing, a change of scenery compared to being cooped up in the house all day. You’re swaying your hips to the music, taking shots and you can already feel the regret coming next morning.

“Hey!” Shoko shouts. “I think Suguru is here!” She looks in the direction where he’s sitting.

“What?” You lean in closer towards her.

“Suguru! He’s here!” She points towards the crowd and to where the seating area is. You follow to where to points and see Suguru talking to some random girl on his lap, laughing his way into some mediocre sex.

“So what?!” You shout back, shrugging your shoulders. “He probably doesn’t even know I’m here! Fuck it!” You smile at Shoko, grabbing her to dance.

“I’m gonna go grab another drink!” She lets go of your hand and walks towards the bar.

You’re too tipsy to even care, in your own little world, dancing and eyeing all the handsome men around you. “Excuse me?” You feel hands on your waist and turn to see a tall, muscular man looking right at you. “Sorry, I just wanted to say you’re beautiful. I saw you dancing from over there!” He points to his seating lounge. “Wanna come sit?”

“Thank you!” You smile, placing your hand on his broad chest. “I’m here with my friend. Can we wait for her—oh there she is. Shoko!” You wave her over and she hurries through the crowd. “He invited us to sit with him, come on.”

“Fuck it, I’m down.” She sips from her drink.

The man grabs your hand and leads you through the crowd of people. It felt good to sit after standing in heels all night. After settling down you could finally get a better look at the man, noticing his sharp features and the scar on the corner of his lip. How handsome he was. What you didn’t notice was how closely Suguru was watching you, eyeing your every move. He took notice of the way your hand ended up on that guys thigh, how easily you laughed at his jokes.

“I’ll be back, gonna grab us some shots.” The girl got up from off his lap.

“Yeah, you do that.” He said without moving an inch, so fixated on you and you only. He couldn’t deny how good you looked tonight. Hands and toes freshly did, your hair in a style he’s never seen, and that dress that hugged your body so tight, showing off every curve you had. Without hesitation, he got up from his seat and walked over.

Shoko looked behind her just in time, eyes wide before immediately turning to face you. “He’s coming over.” She tapped your leg.

“Huh?” Your brows creased.

“Suguru!” She yelled in a whisper. “He’s walking over—heyyyy!” She smiled up at him.

“Hey, Shoko. Hey, y/n.” He greeted you.

You ignored him, sipping from your glass, hugging against the man who you knew as Toji, his arm wrapped around your waist. There was an awkward tension in the air, Shoko clearing her throat as she smiled.

“Y/n, can I talk to you really quick?” He stood in front of you now. “We’ll just be five minutes.” He looked at Toji, grabbing you away from him.

“Ugh, what do you want? Do you have to ruin every fun thing I do?” You follow him into the bathroom. He locks the door, standing before you, looking into your eyes. “What, Suguru?” You fold your arms over your chest.

He knows he’s tipsy, and so are you but he can’t deny what he’s feeling right now and from the looks of it, he can tell you’re feeling the same exact way. “You piss me off. But fuck, you look good doing it. Hugging up on that random ass guy, touching him.” He grits his teeth.

“Don’t be a hypocrite. I saw your little girlfriend sitting on your lap earlier. Where is she now?” You raise a brow.

“She’s a random girl. Don’t even know her name. Why? You jealous?” He walks closer towards you, closing the gap.

“Are you?” You retort, never breaking eye contact with him. There’s several seconds of silence besides the blaring music in the background, until his lips are suddenly on yours, stealing every breath.

Minutes later, you’re bent over the bathroom sink, your skirt bunched up at your waist while he pounds into you. His hand is wrapped around your throat as you grip the sink, feeling like your legs were about to give out any second. “Sugu…fuck!” You whimper. His hips slam against yours, your body jolting forward.

“That’s right, pretty. This is my pussy. Look at how well she’s taking me,” he chuckles, looking down at the way his cock disappears inside of you so effortlessly. “My god.” He lands a few harsh slaps on your ass.

You’re reaching out, pushing back on his stomach in attempts to get him to slow down, feeling like you were going to crumble beneath him. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” You cry. “You’re so fucking deep!” You gasp.

“Yeah?” He pulls you flush against his chest, nibbling on your earlobe. “That’s just how you like it. Deep and slow, hard and fast. I know all the ways to make you cum,” he whispers. He grips your throat tighter. Plap! Plap! Plap! “Better hope your new boyfriend doesn’t realize how long you’ve been gone. Don’t want him to get suspicious.”

Your body convulses as a harsh orgasm takes over you. “Ah! I’m cumming!” You whine before your jaw drops. Geto can feel your pussy fluttering around his cock, making it hard for him not to cum inside. But, now that he thinks about it…that wouldn’t be all too bad.

[gurugirl]

Heartburn | bfd!harry

Summary: You and Harry have been anxious about seeing Fae at your baby shower but things go so well it leaves you both feeling relieved. Except for the small run-in with Fae's mom.

A/N: It's been a while! Forgive me!

Word Count: 4k+

Warning: mentions of pregnancy symptoms, smut, lactation kink (requested!), minor angst

bfd!harry masterlist

. .

When Harry got home that day, he was early to your surprise. You kissed him on the lips and then followed him into the kitchen, waddling after him as you asked him how his day was.

 He placed his palms down on the counter and let out a deep sigh, “Well… Fae’s mom stopped at the office to talk to me.”

 You placed your hands on your tummy, “And what happened?”

 Harry looked at you then down to your belly before moving toward you and placing his big hands over yours, “She had some extreme opinions about this. But I told her it wasn’t her business. Because it’s not. But she isn’t happy. She said some things that made it seem like she might stop by here to talk to you so I left work early just in case. I think she was just trying to get me riled up.”

"Why would she want to talk to me, though? What good does that do?"

"I don't know but she may be dropping off Fae for the baby shower tomorrow. Fae's car is in the shop. So it might be a possibility. I don't know if she was just bluffing but I'll be here with you all day so I won't let it get out of hand."

You nodded, "I know if you're here it'll be fine."

Harry leaned in and kissed your forehead sweetly. The fact that he came home early just in case his ex-wife might show up had you quite comforted. He was often protective, especially lately.

"What did you eat today?" He lifted a brow and took your hand to lead you toward the kitchen cupboard.

He always asked for the rundown of what you ate.

"I blended up all that fruit you cleaned for me this morning and added oats and frozen spinach…" you watched him grin as he pulled down a glass, "Then I had the rest of the grilled chicken sandwich leftover from Lando's then those chocolate chip oat cookies you made."

He poured water into the glass and handed it to you, "And how much water have you had today?"

You rolled your eyes, "A few glasses. Enough to send me running to the bathroom all morning."

"Good. Have another for me," he thumbed at your cheek with a satisfied grin.

What he didn't know was that you'd eaten every last chocolate chip oat cookie that was left. 7 in total. He'd figure it out soon enough. But he made amazing cookies and for some reason, the addition of the oats just made the texture far more appealing and you couldn't stop eating them.

"Take a nap today?"

You shook your head as you gulped the glass down.

"Not tired?"

Not after all that sugar you'd eaten.

"Feeling nervous about tomorrow, I think. Fae texted me this morning to ask if she should bring anything and I got so excited over her asking I got really bad heartburn and had to take a walk up and down the street to calm myself."

"You got heartburn from being excited?" He asked as he reached into the refrigerator to look for something. You peeked over his shoulder.

Shrugging to yourself you put your hand on his back, "I think so. Seems like I get heartburn from just about anything these days."

Harry peered over each shelf and then turned, closing the refrigerator door, "Where are all the cookies?"

A hot flush of slight embarrassment washed over your neck and your shoulder blades, "I ate them."

"All of them?" He asked with a surprised laugh.

You nodded with a sweet smile.

Harry placed his hands on your cheeks, cradling your face as he laughed through his nose, "You sure that's not the reason for your heartburn? There were like ten of them."

"Seven," you corrected with a sputtered laugh and Harry's shoulders shook in quiet amusement as he pushed the tip of his nose into yours. "And I ate the cookies after the heartburn. In fact, they seemed to cure it."

Harry squished a kiss to your lips and then turned to open up the refrigerator again, "Well then I need to make you more cookies, don't I?"

. .

Your nerves were on fire. You woke up extra early because you couldn't sleep and you couldn't get comfortable. You were going to be seeing Fae and you felt like you were going to throw up. God, being pregnant made your body respond to stress so violently. It was one thing you would not miss about being knocked up. That and the random heartburn and how clumsy you'd gotten.

But you couldn't say you hated pregnancy. You loved carrying Harry's baby and you had already fallen in love with it. Also, when you were in the mood to have sex, your orgasms were so intense it melted every little bit of worry away.

Standing in the kitchen with a chocolate chip oat cookie in hand from the fresh batch Harry had made, you heard the sound of shuffling coming from behind and then felt his hands on your upper arms, "Up so early, baby. Everything okay?"

You chewed your bite and let yourself lean back into his chest, "I'm just so nervous about today. Felt like I was gonna throw up."

Harry smiled against your ear, "So your solution is to eat more cookies?"

You nodded and laughed when he ran his fingers up your ribs, "Mama can eat as many oat cookies as she wants. Need anything else?"

His fingers continued their path up and around to your front, grazing over your nipples and softly squeezing at them over the cotton fabric of your oversized nightshirt.

You inhaled sharply through your teeth, "Careful. I've been like… lactating a little."

Harry didn't stop kneading at them, his rough morning voice in your ear was slow, "I know. So fucking sexy, aren't you? Gonna miss when this is gone," he ran his palms over your tummy and then kissed down the back of your neck before turning you around and pulling you by the hand toward the living room. The sun hadn't completely risen yet. The living room was dark but there was the slightest peek of orange sun coming in as he brought you to the couch, making you sit down as he got to his knees between your legs.

You had long forgotten about the cookie in your hand when he took it from you and placed it on the coffee table behind him, smoothing his palms up your thighs. The sweltering nerves you felt upon waking had suddenly turned into a heat pooling in your guts. He slid his hands up your nightshirt and over your bare tummy, lifting the fabric until he'd gotten to your tits where he cupped both sides and leaned forward to suckle at each side. His wet tongue and warm puffy lips on your sensitive breasts had your skin igniting.

He coasted his gaze up to your eyes as his mouth pulled at a nipple and he moaned, the look he gave you was a budding spark of fire as you watched his tongue lave the underside of your breast before wrapping his lips around your bud and sucking.

He blinked and parted from you as he wrapped his hand around your tit and focused on your nipple intently. You were leaking. He pressed his tongue over your tender nipple and lapped at it, swiping up the colostrum and then attaching his lips to take another pull, suckling as he looked up at you. A frown line carved onto the bridge of his nose before he closed his eyes and a groan vibrated into your breast.

You were surprised by how much you enjoyed it. The thrum of arousal that poured into your tummy as he laved and sucked bloomed and swelled until you were mewling with your fingers in his hair and your head thrown back into the cushions of the couch.

He kissed his way to the other side, wet smacking sounds coming from his mouth as he latched on again, working your other nipple until that side was leaking as well.

But then his fingertips found the warm crease between your legs and he gently stroked his pads up and down when he realized how wet you'd gotten.

"You like that?" His words were slurred, lazy as he looked at you through half-lidded eyes.

You nodded, "I do."

He grinned with his jaw slack as he watched your eyes when he tucked two fingers into your pussy and gently slid them in and out, "I can tell."

Harry put his lips back on your breasts as he fingered you slowly right there on the couch as the sun came up. He was moaning and rocking himself against the cushion as your pussy slushed around his fingers.

Every time he pressed in all the way his palm bumped over your clit but it wasn't enough. Finally, you grabbed his wrist and held his fingers in place so his palm was flat on your bud as you attempted to move your hips and roll against him. Everything was harder with your big belly in the way but you were so close…

"Fuck…" you gasped when you felt the tiny shock of your orgasm shudder beneath your skin. It was a light orgasm. Not the usual intense ones you'd been having lately but it was good and it had your skin tingling.

Harry watched you as you finished and he moaned softly, hips still nudging into the couch as he looked from your face to your tits and licked up little droplets seeping from your nipples.

You sighed and slid your bottom to the edge of the couch with your legs still spread for him, "You need it too."

Harry was practically shaking as he pushed his shorts down and pumped his cock, smearing his head around on your wet folds before gently pushing himself inside with a heavy groan of relief.

He was breathing softly, small puffs of moans and grunts as he watched himself glide in and out. You both looked down at the spectacle. Your big belly was in the way but every time he pulled back to his tip you could see the base of him coated in your wetness before he pressed his length back into the hilt.

And that was what felt like real relief. His cock. His fingers, always magical… but his cock… life-changing. You couldn't even say that was a dramatic thing to think either. Harry's dick was perfect. Big and hard when it needed to be, filled up all your bits on the inside just right. You were no saint before Harry. You'd slept with a decent amount of guys to know a good cock, and not even a good cock could save a guy from being bad at sex. But Harry had it all in that department. He was so good and his cock was beautiful. So meaty and so long. He knew exactly how to make you come.

You inhaled sharply and kept your eyes on his face as he worked into you steadily. He was fucking you in that way that drove you crazy. Not fast and not slow. Like he was taking a nice sports car up the street and just hitting the speeding limit. It could have gone so much faster. It could have taken your breath away and given you a rush. But right then, he had just one purpose; getting you from point A to point B gently and with precision. Too fast and he worried he might hurt you. Too slow and he'd come before you could. But this… steady and strong with the kind of build that was going to make you explode at your arrival was what he was shooting for.

"Mmm…" you moaned and he flicked his eyes up to your face.

"Yeah… How's that feel? Gonna come again, Y/n?"

You twisted your face up and nodded, "Mmhmm… yes… Just like that, Harry."

He rolled into you languid, solid, thick. It made your blood sizzle as your legs quivered.

But then he leaned in, cock still driving into you, and began working on your nipples again. Sucking and smushing and kissing wetly. He moaned against your breasts and you felt the heavy throb of his cock inside of you.

When he ghosted the tip of his tongue over your bud slowly you watched him lap at your milk. His eyes were pools of ink on yours, dark pupils spread over his irises as he continued fucking into you at that maddening steady pace.

You began to flutter and squeeze around him, your voice wobbled as you started to come and that time, your orgasm wiped you out. Your limbs shook as Harry's deep voice muttered against your breasts, his cock stretching you wide and then you felt him pumping into you, his own moans a higher octave, soft against your neck as he released his fertile come into your guts.

Now you were ready to take on the day.

. .

Your mother and father were the first to arrive to help with setting the place up. Your aunt and Harry's cousins were next. You tried to distract yourself knowing that soon Fae would be there and you'd be face-to-face with her again. It'd been months since you'd last seen her at Target. And things had been very cordial over text so you were hopeful.

"Harry! I need help pulling this zipper up!" You called from the bedroom, door ajar, hoping he'd hear you from downstairs.

Just before you were about to call out again you heard his heavy steps as he bounded up the stairs toward you. He was always listening for you. You shouldn't have doubted. He'd probably have heard the faintest whisper he was so cautious and protective with you.

"I'm here, baby…" he breathed out and closed the door behind himself, big hands spinning you around so he could finish zipping your dress up. You felt him kiss your shoulder and then your neck, "Gorgeous as always. Feeling good?"

You nodded, "Yeah. Feel really good. Still a little nervous but nothing crazy. Excited to see Fae."

Just then the doorbell rang. It could have been anyone but you and Harry looked at each other for a quick beat, quiet understanding passing between you both. He was nervous about seeing Fae too. She'd only been communicating with you. Had yet to reach out to her father, though she mentioned she was looking forward to seeing him.

And now that you were pregnant, even though you hadn't even yet met your baby, you couldn't imagine what it must feel like to have a strained relationship with them as an adult.

You slid your hand into Harry's, "Let's get down there."

Everything was soft blue and green and yellow with little dashes of pink and violet pastels. You and Harry decided not to find out what the sex was going to be. In truth, you didn't care but you had an inkling it was going to be a girl.

Your mother had set up tables and chairs and snacks were lined up on the kitchen island with cute paper plates that had little yellow bears and green butterflies printed all over them.

It wasn't a formal affair. Your mother had wanted to host the shower at the member's club your dad was part of. But the last thing you wanted was to spend all that money for an afternoon of having friends and family celebrate you for getting knocked up.

The person who had arrived when the doorbell rang was Shelcin. She was dressed in a brightly colored floral dress with big puffy sleeves and ruffles at the hem. It was very Copacabana minus the fruit headdress. You would have expected nothing less.

She kissed your bump and then your cheeks and loudly announced that she bought you the most expensive baby monitor… "That way, even when you and Harry are having hot sex you'll know when the baby's up. No worries about missing a single thing!"

You laughed as your mother placed the gorgeously wrapped box next to the others. Harry's cousin glanced at you and the loud Colombian woman. One thing you'd learned about Shelcin was that she wasn't quiet and she didn't hold back her opinions or vulgarities. You loved it.

With the next chime of the doorbell, you felt Harry behind you as you both stood facing the door. Your mother opened it and there she was. Fae.

Your face brightened and your heart raced as you felt Harry's grip on your arms tighten the slightest, "You okay?"

You looked up at him, "I'm fine. You?"

He blinked and let out a breath, "I will be."

Fae smiled softly as she thanked your mother who took the gift she'd brought. She stepped into the living, looking all around. It was the first time she'd been in the house so it was all new to her.

You and Harry moved toward her and it felt like slow motion as she spotted you and her dad, "Oh wow."

Her eyes got big when she looked down at your belly and you put your hands over your tummy, "I know. About to pop."

Fae hesitated for a moment before stepping in and giving you a hug. It was warm and it felt right. You thought you might pass out, but luckily Harry was standing close just in case your nerves and stress rendered you unconscious.

When Fae pulled away she smiled at her dad, "Hi, dad. You look good. I–"

Harry sniffed and moved in quickly to wrap his arms around his daughter. You knew by that sniff that he was tearing up already.

You watched them as they clung to each other and then you saw his shoulders gently shaking. You knew he'd cry. Harry was emotional, especially about Fae. He didn't talk about it a lot but when you two did sit and discuss it he'd always get worked up over it and have to look up at the ceiling so his tears didn't spill down his face.

Even though you weren't surprised by his tears, it still got you emotional too and you covered your mouth to muffle the small gasp as a tear rolled down your cheek.

Seeing Fae again was better than you imagined. You were still a bit awkward with each other but you were looking forward to rekindling the relationship.

Harry made opening gifts far more entertaining than it should have been. Everyone laughed as Harry made comments and took guesses at what was in each box before handing them to you. He was a regular comedian all of a sudden. You knew he secretly loved the attention.

At one point you picked up a pair of scissors to break through some thick unruly tape on one of the gifts and he quickly dove in and took them from you to open the box himself because he didn't want you to hurt yourself. Everyone oohed and ahhed at how doting he was but you just shook your head and let him have his moment. Honestly, Harry was the star at your baby shower and you really wouldn't have preferred it any other way.

When it was time to toss plates and cups and wrapping paper as guests began to leave, Fae stayed behind to help.

You learned she'd gone to Italy for three weeks over the summer, had started a new job, and had begun dating someone new recently. It was wild how quickly life changed. It didn't feel like all that much time had passed since you'd first started seeing Harry but it was going on 2 years already. Even if a decent chunk of that time was while he was still married, it felt like it'd all just flown by.

Harry joined in to chat with you and his daughter for a while as your mother and father insisted on finishing up cleaning. Fae was so open and receptive that you kept feeling like at any moment the mood would burst. It felt too good to be true.

And it was like you just knew better than to let yourself feel too excited when a knock came to the front door.

Fae glanced toward the sound and then back at you and Harry, "I think it's Mom. She's picking me up."

The three of you stood and walked to the door as Fae opened it up, "Hey. You should have just texted. I'd have met you out there."

Her mother looked from Fae then toward you and your very pregnant belly. A shock of something like hurt and then loathing shadowed her face. Bitterness. She looked up at Harry, "You must be so happy. Your new family should do perfectly to replace your old one."

"Mom, don't." "Hey. Not okay."

Both Harry and Fae spoke at the same time, chiding the woman who slid her gaze back toward you as Harry clutched an arm around you to keep you closer to his side

"I hope you're proud, Y/n. Congratulations. Let's hope your child's best friend doesn't meet H–"

He gently stepped in front of you and pointed outside, "Go. I don't want you here. This is not the time."

Fae put her hands on her mom's arms and turned to look back at you with an expression of apology as she walked them both away from the house, "I'll call you. We'll get together soon."

Harry closed the door and took your hand, "It was such a good day, too."

You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled, "It still is a good day, Harry. Everything with Fae? Nothing can erase that. It was beautiful. Everything. I wish that that hadn't just happened but…" you shook your head as you watched a small smile creep up on his face, "Today was amazing. I'm so happy."

A sheen of tears filled his eyes and he squeezed your hand, "I'm happy too, Y/n. I love you so much."

"So, where should I put all these?" Your mom asked, oblivious to what had just happened as she gestured toward the table filled with gifts, "Upstairs in the baby room?"

You and Harry laughed as you looked at your mother, the sweet moment interrupted. He wiped his eyes and sniffed again.

"Yeah. We can help. I know where I want everything–" You started to move toward the table.

"You will sit down, prop your legs up, and rest while I help your mom and dad," Harry scolded as he walked you to the couch.

Honestly, you should have known that he was going to make you relax. You kissed his cheek as he helped lower you to sit, "You're too much, Harry."

He raised his brow and turned to kiss you quickly on the lips, "Good. Then I'm doing it right." He pulled away and bent down to grasp around your shins and bring your legs up onto the couch before tucking a pillow under your knees.

He stood and looked down at you, "Need anything before I go up there?"

You shook your head, "No. Got the remote right here," you raised it upward and smiled.

"Alright," then he pointed at you, "You better keep your pretty ass right here the whole time. I don't want to have you walking around trying to clean anything up. Understood?"

You laughed softly and saluted him, "Yes, sir."

He shook his head and bent down over you, one hand resting on the arm of the couch behind you as he spoke quietly into your ear, "Watch the attitude or I'll have to give you a spanking."

You reached up for his collar to keep him close and grinned, "You'd spank a pregnant woman?"

A lopsided grin took over his expression and his eyes flashed with something mischievous, "I absolutely would. It would have to be modified of course, but it'll sting your ass just as good. Behave."

He walked away and you watched him, all masculine broad shoulders and dark curls as he disappeared up the stairs with your parents –as if he hadn't just threatened, with heavy sexual undertones no less, to spank your ass.

A wide smile stretched across your face. God, you loved him.

. .

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[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter four

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a confession, a second first date, and the start of something special. (4.8k)

a/n: happy birthday landooo!!! my gift to him is a girlfriend 🙂‍↕️

previous chapter | masterlist

A loud clang from the kitchen startles you from your sleep, blinking awake to a still dark room.

Your head throbs a little bit, but the headache isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. It’s easy to ignore, especially since your mind is occupied by the snoring boy sprawled out under you. 

Lando’s fast asleep on his back, one arm slung over your torso loosely while the other hangs off the end of the sofa above his head, legs tangled with yours. You don’t remember cuddling up like this during the night, but you’re not complaining. He’s warm and comfy, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest soothing. 

You almost don’t want to get up, but your curiosity about the noises coming from the kitchen wins out in the end. Very carefully, you wiggle out from under his arm, peeling yourself away from him as slow as you can so as to not wake him. 

Once you’ve successfully extracted yourself, you can’t help but drop a kiss to Lando’s forehead before you go, pushing his curls away from his browline to do so. He lets out a little sigh, rolls onto his side, but remains deep in slumber as you pad out of the room. 

The ruckus turns out to be Camille puttering around the kitchen making coffee—an essential hangover cure.

“Sorry, sorry, I was trying to be quiet. Did I wake you?” She hisses, cringing. You wave an absentminded hand, stifling a yawn as you plant yourself on a stool at the counter.

She slides a mug of coffee towards you and you gladly accept, leaning over the steam wafting from the piping hot drink. It’s taking all of your willpower not to gulp it all down in one go and burn your throat. 

Camille lets you sip and sit as you attempt to wake yourself up a little more, but you can tell she’s dying to say something. You sigh. “Say what you wanna say.”

“Oh thank god. I hate you for making me wait more than five seconds, but whatever. Anyways, Lando stayed over last night?”

“Mhm, yeah. He did.” You bob your head noncommittally, staring hard at the dark liquid in your cup. Despite your laser focus, you can still feel Camille’s eyes boring into the top of your head, and when you finally do look up at her, she’s looking at you very pointedly. “What? We talked for a bit, and then we fell asleep.” 

“And that’s all that happened?” 

“Uh…” Your voice goes higher pitched than necessary, one eye squinting shut. You want to tell her everything, but you haven’t had the chance to speak with Lando yet. You’re not sure what “everything” entails yet.

Lando shuffles into the kitchen right at that moment, rubbing furiously at his eye with one hand while the other scratches at his stomach aimlessly. He extends his arms high over his head in a loud yawn and stretch combo, in doing so revealing a strip of tanned torso that has you nearly choking on your sip of coffee. 

That earns you two confused, yet amused looks, for wildly different reasons. 

“Hot.” You say lamely, in a very poor explanation. Lando’s expression turns slightly smug. “The coffee. Burned my tongue.” 

“Morning, sunshine!” Camille chirps happily. Knowingly. She beams at Lando and it stops him in his tracks, blinking unsurely at her chipper form like he’s hallucinating instead of responding. “Cool, just stare at me like I’m an alien.” 

“Sorry, I just—how are you not hungover right now? You could barely walk straight last night,” He asks incredulously. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She hums, winking at him. 

Lando pulls himself onto the stool next to yours with a groan, but doesn’t hesitate to give you the best smile he can muster in greeting. “Morning. How’d you sleep?” 

“Good,” You say softly, wrapping your hands around the mug in front of you. “You?” 

“Really good. Best sleep I’ve had in months, actually.” 

“On a shitty couch with no back support? Interesting.” 

Lando checks to see that Camille isn’t paying any attention before he responds. “Maybe it was the company.” 

You feel your cheeks blaze hot under his intense gaze, but you can’t bring yourself to break eye contact with him. You still need to address what happened last night. It’s still something you haven’t quite wrapped your head around yet, and you feel the need to stall so you can gather your thoughts some more. 

“Coffee’s fresh on, if you want some,” You blurt. 

Lando takes your reaction in stride, as if he senses you need time. “Oh, that sounds amazing right now.” 

Instead of going to pour himself his own cup, he eases yours out of your hands and takes a hefty sip from it in one fell swoop, before you can even tell him it’s just coffee. He doesn’t like plain black coffee. Then he shudders, face scrunching up in adorable disgust. “Blegh. Needs milk. Sugar, too.” 

“That’s because it’s mine, and I happen to think it’s just fine the way it is, thank you very much.” 

“You don’t wanna share?” 

Your nose crinkles in the same way his had a few moments ago. “Not if you’re going to dump a fuckton of sugar in it.”

“Not a fuckton! Just a spoon or two. Maybe three.” 

“Get your own, Norris.” You roll your eyes playfully, and Lando cocks his head in challenge, lifts your mug back to his lips for another long sip, this time obnoxiously loud. Paired with the adorable crooked troublemaker’s grin, you have to fight the need to kiss him again. 

You want to, but you can’t. Not yet. 

Samira and Maren trudge in a little while later, looking much worse for wear than you all. Neither of them even have it in her to reply to any of your good morning’s, only to make it over to pour themselves a generous mugs of coffee. 

“See, that’s what I thought you lot would be like right now,” Lando says, waving a hand at your two zombies of friends. “That’s what normal people are like after hitting up four bars in a night, you psychopaths.”

“If my head wasn’t pounding right now, I’d punch you in your pretty boy face,” Samira grumbles, glaring at him through bleary eyes. “What’re you even doing here, anyways?” 

“Who d’you think brought you all home last night?” 

“Then why do I remember Max doing a horrible rendition of We Belong Together by Mariah Carey?” Maren groans, face screwing up in confusion. 

In perfect timing, you hear the front door open, and then Max’s booming voice.

“Your savior has arrived!” He saunters into view with his hands behind his back, as if he’s hiding something behind him. The closer he gets, the more you can smell something mouthwatering wafting from whatever he’s just brought. 

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, I guess,” Camille chuckles. 

Max juts his lower lip out, smacking one hand over his heart. “Aw, you guys were talking about me? All good things, I hope.” 

“Always, mate,” Lando assures him, but not without shooting you a cheeky wink as soon as his friend turns away. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Samira grits out, glaring at no one in particular. “You’re all being way too loud right now.” 

“Guess that means you don’t want the food I brought?” 

“...What is it?” 

“Sugar and carbs.” 

“Hand over the box right now and you’re forgiven.”

The four of them get into some other conversation quickly after that, giving Lando the privacy to lean over towards you, lips nearly ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Think we can slip out and have that talk now?” 

You cast a glance at your friends fighting over the pastries in the box. They won’t even notice you’re gone. 

Lando’s mouth is on yours as soon as you’re out of sight and earshot, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You almost forget what you’re supposed to be doing, but catch the thought at the last second before it slips away. 

“Mm, Lando, hold on—” You mumble, splaying a hand flat across his chest. He lets out a distracted sound of question, squeezing at your waist. “Less kissing, more talking,” You chide. 

Lando pouts, but obliges, taking a step back to put just the smallest bit of space between you. “Fine, fine, I’m listening.” 

“Look, I don’t—I’m not normally one to do things that scare me. And when you told me who you were, I immediately shut down because I thought no, that’s not me. I can’t do that, that’s too scary to be me. I wanted to play it safe.” 

His heart beats strongly under your palm, if not a little quicker than usual with your fingers curled into the softness of his rumpled jumper.

You’re not looking at his face right now. With how vulnerable you’re being with him right now, you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to utter the words if you look him in the eye. 

Instead, you’ve got your gaze trained on his hand on top of yours, the collection of bracelets on his wrist that you remind yourself to ask about another time. 

“Getting to know you, realizing how much I like you, I think it also made me realize that life is too short to always play it safe. Some people are worth stepping out of my comfort zone for. What we are, what we could be—you’re worth stepping out of my comfort zone for,” You say softly, but firmly. 

It’s nothing but the absolute truth. You’re putting yourself out there in a way you’ve never had the courage to do before. But Lando, he gives you courage. He makes you want to try. 

“So this is me, doing something scary, asking if you’ll…take a chance on me?” 

Only then do you muster up the courage to look him in the eye, and when you do, you’re met with the biggest, most smitten grin you’ve ever seen grace his face. Dimples on full display, eyes squinted with happiness, he’s smiling so hard it almost looks like it hurts. 

“I’ll take every chance I’ve got on you,” He says earnestly, cupping your face in both hands. “And if I’ve got none left, I’d find some more, ‘cause you’re worth it a hundred times over.” 

“Sorry it took me so long to figure my shit out,” You say sheepishly. 

 He gestures towards himself suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. “I knew you couldn’t resist all this for long.”

“You’re so dumb,” You scoff, shaking your head at his antics. Even so, your affection for him has never been clearer. You may say he's dumb (you know he isn’t), but he’s yours now. He’s yours now and you've never been more excited to see what’ll happen. 

“Well, you like me, so…guess you’ve just got to deal with it.” 

“Yeah? And what do you think I should do about that?” 

“What do I think? You wanna know what I think? I think you should…” He trails off, pushing in closer, closer, closer, until his mouth hovers a millimeter from yours. Careful fingers tilt your chin up to guide you the rest of the way, meeting your lips gently. 

You’d kiss Lando all day if you had the time, just because now you can, but there’s still the issue of the when and how you’re going to tell your friends. Reluctantly, you pull away. “We should get back before they notice we’re missing.”  

“Probably, yeah.” You wait for him to move but he doesn’t. He just looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real. 

“What?” You reach up hastily in an attempt to smooth out your hair. “Do I look okay?” 

“You look perfect.”

“Stop being so sweet. I mean, do I look like I’ve just been kissed within an inch of my life?” 

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” 

You press one more quick peck to his lips in lieu of a response, giving his hand another squeeze before turning on your heel to head back. Lando follows behind like a puppy, close but not too close. 

All eyes are on you the second you step back into the room, four pairs flicking from Lando to you, back to him, then back to you. Granted, it probably would’ve been a smarter idea to return at separate times so as to not raise suspicion, but it’s too late for that now. 

“...What?” You try for a lighter tone to throw them off, tilting your head to the side. 

One second passes. Two, three, four seconds. You almost think you can pull this off. Then—

“You fuckers!” Maren huffs, seeming much more alert and awake now. “You couldn’t have waited another day to get your shit together?” 

Definitely not the reaction you were envisioning in your head, if you’re being honest. 

“‘Scuse me?” Lando asks, looking both bewildered and a little bit offended by the outburst. He aims a sideways glance at you for an explanation that you can’t provide.

All it does is confuse you, but for some reason, Samira begins to giggle uncontrollably. Even Max looks a mixture of happy and smug. 

“I just lost thirty bucks to Max because of you two!” 

“You bet on us? What the fuck, mate!” Lando exclaims incredulously. 

Max lets out an offended noise from the back of his throat. “You expect me not to take my chances on easy money? Get real, mate. I can give you a cut of it if it gets your knickers out of a twist.” 

“What they mean is, we’re glad you finally figured out you belong together,” Camille says earnestly, only a tad apologetic. Lando takes this moment to sling an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side and pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Right, well, in other news, I actually came over here with a purpose other than providing joy to everyone,” Max interrupts the tender moment, clapping once. “Lando, we’ve got Keegan’s thing today, so we gotta, y’know—gotta get going, yeah?” 

Lando inhales sharply, shoulders slumping. “Right. Fuck, I forgot about that.” 

“Yeah, I know you did. Too busy wooing your lady and all,” Max teases, aiming a wink in your direction that has you throwing up a playful middle finger at him. Lando turns to face you, frowning. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve gotta—I wish I could stay, I really do. I totally spaced on this thing one of our mates has going on today, we promised we’d go—” 

“It’s okay, Lando,” You say, endeared by his scrabbling for an explanation. He didn’t really need one to begin with, but it’s cute that he feels the need to explain himself. “Go do your thing. I’ll see you when you’ve got time.” 

“You’re the best. How did I get so lucky?” He sighs, dramatically dreamy. Humor twinkles in his eyes. 

“Bye,” You chuckle, moving to peel yourself away from him. You want to get in on one of the pastries Max had brought before they’re gone. 

“Wait, wait.” Lando slips his fingers through yours, tugging lightly to stop you before you can get even a few steps away. “Before I go. Do you have any dinner plans tonight?” 

Your brows pinch in the middle. “No. Why?” 

“I want a do over of our first date. One that doesn’t end in…y’know.” You hum in thought, like you’re even contemplating turning him down, and he lets out a little frustrated whine that makes you giggle again. “Come on, let me take you out. Wanna wine and dine you properly, baby.” 

The term of endearment rolls off his tongue so easily, so casually, like he’s called you it all along. It makes you concede. 

“Where are we going?” 

“That’s for me to figure out before tonight,” He hums. You raise a semi-skeptical brow. “I’ve got ideas, I swear! Just wear something pretty and be ready by seven. I’ll be by to pick you up then.” 

“Okay.” You nod. Lando perks up, beaming bright. He kisses you again, briefly but enthusiastically, before turning to follow Max towards the front door. “See you tonight. And you better not be late!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” 

The rumble of a car driving away echoes out soon after the two boys disappear from sight.

You sigh lightly, returning your attention back to the enticing box of pastries on the counter. You pray the one that had been calling your name in the little peek you'd gotten when Max first handed them over is still there. 

Your hand gets smacked as you eagerly reach for the box, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to make you curse. You look up to see all three girls waiting expectantly for you to fess up and tell them how you’d gone from awkwardly avoiding Lando to what they'd just witnessed. 

“Can I at least eat first?” They shake their heads firmly, and you whine. “What? Come on, I’m starving!” 

“Explain, then eat.” 

Your shoulders creep up towards your ears in a shrug. Seeing as it was kind of just a gut feeling more than anything, it’s a little hard to articulate with words. You try your best at it anyways.

“I…realized I was making a mistake by walking away because I was scared. You guys know I’ve never been great with change, but I dunno, maybe change is okay sometimes.” 

“Oh my god, our girl is growing up.” 

-------

The closer it gets to seven, you find your nerves growing with every tick, tick, tick of the clock. You’re not even sure why. It’s just dinner, and it’s just Lando. You’re comfortable with Lando. You like Lando. 

So why does it feel like you’re about to do something so much bigger than that? 

Dinner might as well mean canon event in your mind. Things with Lando are literally brand new, not even a full day old yet, but it feels like something monumental. Your first date ended in shambles (thanks to your own doing), so the urge to make sure this one goes perfect is high.

The pressure is on, and you don’t do too well under pressure. That doesn’t even include the fact that your feelings for him are stronger than anything you’ve felt for anyone before. 

The moment Lando pulls up in front and you lay eyes on him climbing out of the car though, all your worries start to melt away. He looks so happy to see you again, even though you haven’t even been apart for a full day. It makes you remember that there’s no reason to get all worked up about anything with him.  

“Hey, you,” He says, leaning in to wrap an arm around your waist as soon as he’s close enough. “Missed your face today.” 

“Just my face?” You tease.

Lando’s head lists to one side, nose scrunching adorably. “Maybe other parts of you too.” Your eyebrows lift towards your hairline amusedly at his words and he groans, nudging you gently in the ribs with a large hand. “Oh, get your head out of the gutter! I didn’t mean it like that.” 

You giggle, dotting a kiss to his pouting lips. “So what’d you come up with for our second first date?” 

“Why don’t you get in the car and see?” He offers out his arm and you take it gladly, accepting his help into the car too. You think he’s about to start the car when he slides into the driver’s seat, but he catches you by surprise by sneaking in another kiss instead. “You look amazing.”

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” You shoot back. He’s gone for simple but put together with a classic white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and some dark trousers, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t pull them off fantastically. 

“All for you, baby.” He grins, winking boyishly. “I got us a reservation at the nicest restaurant in town. Well, nicest according to the loads of travel blogs me and Max looked at. Fancy seeing if Greek summer gal dot com knows what she’s talking about?” 

“With a name like that, how ever could she be wrong?” You play along, lacing your fingers through his. He dots a kiss to your temple. 

Lando chats about his day on the way into town, all the way until his phone rings. His brow furrows, and for a split second you think it might be work calling again. If it is, you have half a mind to answer it yourself and chew them out. 

“Sorry, d’you mind seeing who it is?” Lando lifts himself off the seat, shoving a hand into his pocket to squeeze his buzzing phone out and passing it to you. A wildly unflattering photo of Max flashes across the screen. 

“It’s Max. Want me to answer?” You offer, giggling at the silly sight. He nods gratefully, keeping his eyes on the road. You tap the accept call button, putting the other boy on speaker. 

“What’s up, mate?” Lando says, hitting you with a ‘get a load of this guy’ sort of look. “Kinda in the middle of something here.” 

“Yeah I know, that’s why I’m calling. You can’t go to that restaurant.” 

Lando’s expression morphs into one of confusion, one you’re sure that you’re mirroring as you squint back at him. “Uh…sure we can. I made a reservation, everything’s set already.” 

“I know, asshole!” Max huffs. “Someone must’ve leaked your name on the reservation to the press or something, ‘cause I just drove by a few minutes ago and it’s crawling with people. Like, swamped with paparazzi and fans.” 

Lando’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel, face screwing up into something between anger and despair. “Shit. That’s not good.” 

“Just thought I’d let you know before you get there,” Max says. He sounds guilty, but he has no reason to be. You’re glad he’d been able to get a hold of Lando beforehand. “You can still go out, just…maybe find somewhere else to go, I dunno.” 

“Thank you, Max,” You chime in. 

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up, mate. Cheers.” 

Lando flicks on his blinker to pull off to the side of the road the first chance he gets after Max hangs up, and when he does turn the car off, he immediately goes to bang his head against the steering wheel. “This is so bad,” He groans. 

You smooth a hand down his back in an attempt to soothe him. “It’s fine, Lando. We can just go somewhere else.” 

“I wanted this so badly to go perfect, and again, I’m the reason why it’s all going to shit.” 

“It’s not going to shit. And you wouldn’t be the reason for it, even if it was,” You insist firmly. He straightens up in his seat, turning to face you with doubt crinkling his face that you immediately want to rid him of. Your hand finds his, prying his fingers off the steering wheel to intertwine. “I mean it. I don’t care that we’re not going to some fancy restaurant. All I care about is that we’re together.” 

Lando squeezes your hand, bringing it up to his lips to press a grateful kiss to your knuckles. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

“I know.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. It makes him chuckle, brings back the twinkle in his eye.

After driving for a bit, you eventually find yourselves at a little gyro spot to grab some food. You push open the door to get out once Lando has put the car to a stop, but at the very last moment, you turn back to face him. 

“You should probably stay here,” You say, gnawing on your lip. 

Lando pouts, but doesn’t make a move to exit the car. He must know it’s for the best. Even so, he digs out his wallet, pressing a few bills into your hand. You click your tongue, giving your head a shake. “Don’t look at me like that. I asked you to dinner, I pay for it.”

“Alright, fine.” 

“Mint. Get me something good?”

“‘Course I will. Salmon, right?” You quip, smiling innocently. His hatred for fish is something you’ll never tire of poking fun at him for. 

“Don’t even joke about that, you monster!” Lando exclaims, slapping a dramatic hand over his chest. You laugh out loud. “And don’t you think about getting fish either, or I’ll never kiss you again.”

“Well, someone’s dramatic!”

“I’m serious!” 

You leave him behind at that, giggling to yourself about his theatrics.

The lady working the counter in the little mom and pop gyro shop is very kind, compliments your outfit and calls you a beautiful young woman while you wait on your food—even gives you an order of veggie kroketes, on the house.

She kind of reminds you of your own mother, whom you make a mental note to call when you have the time. You’ve been having such a good time here, you’ve nearly forgotten the rest of your world outside of it.

You wind up finding someplace not far away to enjoy your food once you’ve gotten it. A hidden spot, a little off the road—not a place anyone would come across unless they were looking hard enough. Perfect for two people who’d rather not attract attention. 

Lando procures a beach towel from the boot of the car for the two of you to sit on as you eat. 

“I’m sorry about the restaurant again. I usually don’t use my actual name when I do things like that, but they were just about booked up and I really wanted us to go, so I did,” He sighs, tracing a finger along the patterned cotton. “I had no idea it’d get leaked, I swear. Guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Does that usually work? Using your name to get things.” 

Lando’s cheeks flush pink and he smiles guiltily, ducking his head momentarily before nodding. “Usually, yeah. I don’t do it often though. Almost never, really. Only for special things, and this…well, I wanted it to be just that. Special.” 

“It is special,” You say, letting your knee bump his. 

He scoffs lightly like he doesn’t think the same, lifting his half eaten wrap in the air. “We’re sat on the side of the road eating takeaway.”

Even a date like this truly is something special to you. Spending time with the person you’ve become so close with in such a short amount of time—the one who makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, who makes you feel like you can truly be yourself—it’s something you were starting to think you’d never have. Lando’s come along and changed all that. 

“Do you think you have to impress me?” Lando doesn’t say anything, just lets his mouth snap shut, but you can see it in his eyes that yes, he feels the need to impress you. You’re not sure why, but you suspect it has less to do with you and more to do with his own feelings. “Because you don’t. I couldn’t care less about your name, your money, or anything else that comes with it. I like you for you, not for what your status can get us.” 

Lando stares back at you long and hard, as if he’s searching you for any ounce of indication that you’re not telling him the truth. You’re certain he’ll find nothing, because even though you’re still getting to know each other—flaws, fears, and all—you’ll never lie to him. 

“I’m sorry,” He says eventually. “I dunno why I thought—” He cuts himself off with a shake of the head. “Y’know what, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be better.” 

 “You don’t need to be better,” You hum, resting your head against his shoulder. “You just need to be you.” 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re really good at this pep talk thing?” 

“Never had to give anyone this many pep talks before.” 

Lando pokes his fingers into the ticklish spot between your ribs in response. You reach to bat away his hand, but he moves quicker, leaning in to drag his nose against your cheek. 

“Is now a bad time to tell you I did actually get the fish?” 

Lando rears his head back faster than you could’ve imagined, looking so absolutely horrified at your insinuation it has you breaking composure almost instantly. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was two seconds away from gagging out loud. “No you did not.” 

“I didn’t, but wouldn't it have been funny if I did?” 

“That is so not cool,” He grumbles, lips pulling into a pout. You have the urge to kiss it away and you fight it for a moment, but then you remember you can kiss him whenever you want, so you do. It seems to make him forget about his disgust, because he kisses you back immediately. 

You’re one who’s dazed when you finally resurface for air, but you manage to smile sweetly. “Better now?” 

“Getting there. Maybe a little longer would help.” 

“Just a little longer?” 

“A lot longer works too.” 

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[hannyoontify]

seventeen '95 line as things that have made my heart flutter before

warnings | none?

notes | source? erm possibly my own... experiences from the past..... ;;; i actually wanted to do all 13 before publishing but i js couldn't wait LMFAO i'm still writing the rest there's a good chance that i might upload all 4 lines in one day not proofread

p.s. i recommend reading these as situationships/pre-relationships

95 line | 96 line | 97 line | maknae line

seungcheol - calling you in the morning with his morning voice

you’re brushing your teeth, staring off into space and thinking that it’s too early for you to be awake when you hear your phone buzz on the marble counter. reaching over, you answer the call once you recognized the caller ID. 

“hello?”

“g’morning…” the voice on the other end sends a shiver down your spine and kickstarts a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. “dreamt of you last night.”

the fluttering, overwhelming feeling migrates from your stomach to your chest. your brain goes static as you try and get over the initial shock of how deep and husky seungcheol’s voice currently was.

“i-it’s 7 in the morning, cheol. why are you calling me so early?”

you could almost hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. “i missed you.”

a rush of heat hits your face and you’re suddenly thankful that this was a voice call. “wh- whatever… you’re going to be seeing me in an hour anyway.”

seungcheol hums over the line. “mmm… i’m not sure if i can wait until then.”

“i’m hanging up!” you say hurriedly. you could physically no longer handle that man’s flirting and that damn low voice of his. you needed to give him a stern talking to when you got to school.

jeonghan - touching your ear whenever he’s bored

“hannie…”

“hm?”

“are my ears that soft?” you squirm in your spot at the tickling feeling on your spot the couch as jeonghan’s fingers absentmindedly gave your ear light touches and tugs. he looks up from his phone and sheepishly pulled his hand away.

“sorry, i didn’t realize” before he fully retracts his hand, his finger skims your cheek and gives it a slight pinch before place his hand in his hoodie pocket. you contemplatively lick your lips before opening your mouth to talk again.

“i... never said i didn’t like it…” your voice is so quiet jeonghan almost didn’t hear you. almost. 

but jeonghan always hears you.

he gives you a sly grin before reaching out and giving your earlobe a gentle tug. “i didn’t realize i was doing it either. i know it started as a joke but… i think i made it a habit.”

jeonghan inches closer to you on the couch, his knee grazing yours. “you’re my little stress ball now.”

“are you stressed?” you furrow your brows in worry and jeonghan smiles.

“not when i’m with you.”

another gentle tug. except, this time, it's not on your ear.

spoiler alert: it's your heart.

joshua - humming and strumming the guitar in an empty room

the living room is bustling. you’re not sure what you were expecting when your friend seungkwan said he was having a small holiday get-together, but it definitely wasn’t this. you can’t even walk from the kitchen to the living room without stepping on someone’s foot, and you were pretty sure there was a DJ in the house somewhere.

desperate for a break from the crowd, you manage to squeeze through the countless bodies and go upstairs, where it’s virtually empty. the contrast between the loud and busy first floor and peaceful second floor felt borderline holy.

you’re wandering around the second floor, happy to escape the chaos of the first floor when you hear the quiet strum of a guitar reverberating through the hallways. 

you halt and listen keenly as you try and locate where the sound was coming from. following the sweet melody of the guitar, you soon hear a voice accompanying the instrument. the door in front of you is cracked open and you peek inside, trying to identify who the talented musician was.

inside the room was joshua, an acoustic guitar propped on his knee as he strums the instrument, his fingers skillfully moving against the frets with gentle hums. his eyes are closed as he fully immerses in the music.

you stand by the doorway, arms crossed against your chest as you watch him. your lips are tugging into a small smile and you felt a gentle fluttering in your stomach. the final note hangs in the air and you hold your breath as you feel your heart rate beginning to speed up at the sight of joshua’s small smile.

his eyes slowly open and your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. joshua grins when he recognizes you.

“any song requests?”

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

[lnfours]

i feel like youre the only one who could understand my thoughts rn, hear me out: uni student who is having a hard time being motivated and is justt feeling overall down about school and such. THEN, lando comfort, just being there and being so comforting (this is not at all inspired by my life or anything...truth, ive been having such a shit week and i just know that this week is going to be bad too and i really need comfort, but am lacking in the friend/boyfriend department and my phone calls with my mom are simply not doing it for me anymore. okay enough with the venting.)

i definitely, 100% understand your situation. school is stressful and hard, especially when you’re feeling unmotivated. remember to give yourself breaks as needed, and my messages are always open if you need anything ❤️

‘feeling 22’ birthday sleepover

the sound of the front door opening sounded through the apartment before his voice did, "hey, baby."

you looked up from your laptop, smiling softly at him from the spot on the couch that you had realized you'd been at all day. the sun was beginning to set, peaking in through the curtains in the living room. he walked up behind the couch, wrapping his arms around you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"it's five already?" you asked, glancing up at the time in the corner of your screen. sure enough, it was a little after five. you had quite literally been working on this final project all day.

he hummed, resting his head on top of yours, "mmhm," his nose absentmindedly nuzzled into the hair ontop of your head, taking in the smell of your shampoo, "have you been working on this all day?"

you nodded, sighing before pulling off your glasses, rubbing your eyes, "yeah and i feel like i've barely made a dent in it. i feel like no matter what i put, my professor isn't going to be impressed."

"he'd be an idiot not to be impressed with anything you do."

"yeah, but it needs to be perfect if i want to land that internship," you said, "and it's nowhere near perfect. no matter how hard i work i feel like it's not good enough and i just... i don't know what to do."

"take a break, baby," he said, "you've been at this all day. rest the rest of the night and have another go at it tomorrow or the next day. little by little."

you knew he had a point, but you sat there defeated as you tried to get yourself to close your laptop, "okay, yeah, just let me read it over one last time and then i'll be done for the night."

he nodded, "okay, just once though," he said, standing up again, "i have an idea, actually. i'll be right back,"

you nodded, letting him venture down the hallway and into your bedroom. he made quick work with his actions, gathering candles from your bedroom before placing them on the bathroom counter and lighting them. he started the faucet for the bath, making it the temperature he knew you liked before adding some of your body wash to the water.

once it was set up to his liking, he made his way back to the living room and you were still invested in the project on your laptop. he stood in front of you. gently closing the lid, which made you stop reading as you let out a soft sigh of defeat. there was no getting around it with him.

"c'mon," he smiled softly, reaching out and offering his hand for you to take. you placed your hand in his, rising from the couch as he led you down the hallway and to your bedroom.

"what're you up to?"

"nothing in particular," he smiled, and when you saw the bathroom you immediately almost broke down into tears. the candles dimly lit the room and a bath was drawn.

"lando," you gasped softly, his thoughtfulness making your heart flutter against your chest and reminding you why you fell in love with him in the first place.

he smiled, "you relax, i'll order us some food. how's that sound?"

you nodded as wrapped your arms around his neck, "have i ever told you how much i love you?"

he smiled, "once or twice, i can't quite put my finger on it though."

you laughed softly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, "i love you."

"i love you more," he smiled.

you nodded in the direction of the tub, "how about you join me and then we order dinner?"

"i like the way you think."

[videokilled]

The kiss at least soothed some part of him- but it didn’t last. He could tell it was a placating kiss- it was nice regardless. But he could tell. The other was still stiff. Attempting to be gentle toward him.

For a moment he did think they were going to cuddle- that it was just a momentary upset. Maybe he had navigated it satisfactorily.

And then Alastor excused himself.

Vox didn’t react really. Just nodding and carefully shifted to let him up. The other rushed off to the bathroom and shut the door. The speed at which the shower turned on spoke more than hearing any noise of distress.

The tv stayed where he was for a long moment. Staring off at nothing as he let whatever was in his head just simmer and stew. Hopefully make itself more easily identifiable.

It didn’t. And further more. Frustratingly. His eyes teared up.

Without another real thought about what he would be the next rational thing, he stood up from the couch and immediately just set on dragging the couch to the balcony. He was strong and fueled by whatever emotion this was, and the apartment wasn’t all that large so it only took a few moments.

Decisively, he lifted the edge of it up onto the railing, buried his claws in the couch, and let his electricity build until it was good and ignited.

Then tipped it over the balcony, and slumped onto the railing himself to watch it hit the ground (and two unfortunate sinners) and shatter. Quickly turning into a flaming heap that would abstruct traffic, but what didn’t in hell.

Vox didn’t give a thought to his burnt hand. It wasn’t all that bad and he could handle some injury. Well in this state (whatever this state was) he barely felt injury.

The carpet where the couch had been was noticeably less trodden down, the living room area looked obviously barren without it, but there was still the loveseat commonly unused.

The tv demon walked back picked up his bottle of eldritch liquor that had been left over from a previous visit. But then something prickled in his veins.

Alastor really had permiated his everything in barely a months time. He had remnants now, that he, Vox the Media Demon deemed to be kept around.

He considered shoving the eldritch stuff away in lieu of stuff he always drank. But he found himself craving it.

Pitiful.

He grabbed a handful of cigars from his box, and walked away with the eldritch bottle anyway, letting it drag on the counter as his hand pulled it to his side.

Briefly considering throwing the food away- but didn’t want the stupid deer to go through his trash and eat out of it like a rancid raccoon.

Vox slumped onto the couch. Having stripped to his boxers, manspreading and wishing he had a jacuzzi here. Why didn’t he have a hot tub here. He made a note to get one here while he lit his first cigar and slammed a good long bout of the goldish velvet looking liquid before setting it on the ground. Then crossed his arms to stare off at the floor and brood.

At least the aching in his chest had subsided for now. He hated that he could feel his skin craving touch though. Not perverse touch. Just the stuff that stayed in hallmark movies. Fuckin soft.

The red eyes were narrowed and glowing bright and the thin eyebrows were pinching them down further at steep angles.

“It was a bit?” He clarified but managed to believe that the synonym was just that. A synonym. The other was already moving to put space between them though. Even if it was just a little. Not like their late night moments of cuddling and closeness. He wanted that.

The pit in his chest grew a bit, and sank to his stomach. He was confused. There was a growing intensity in his chest that the timer on a correct course was waning and he didn’t know what it was. He felt the urge to apologize suddenly.

Him.

Of all people.

He stuffed it down. He didn’t apologize and he certainly didn’t apologize for something as vague as whatever this was. As if it would help anything anyway.

Alastor wasn’t looking at him, even his posture was shrinking away.

“What’s wrong..” he finally said, finally managing it in a tone that wasn’t weak and pitiful sounding. Not moving away from the other.

Clean. Alastor liked to get clean. But they usually stayed close for a bit first- the other didn’t seem to be in discomfort. And if nothing else he was radiating ‘do not touch me’ so Vox hesitated to.

“I-..” he cut the sentence off but not before the first syllable. The antenna were leaned forward intently and very crinkled.

[autumnscribbles]

the one | drew starkey

pairing: drew x married!reader

summary: drew had a thing for you for as long as he could remember. coming back home, he faces a sad and scary truth

warnings: abuse (emotional, physical),swearing, I guess emotional “cheating”?

wc: 3k

a/n: thank you to the anon that sent this in!! it’s my first drew imagine so i hope yall like it!! i had a lot of fun writing it

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You stood around a table with your friends, your husband beside you with his arm wrapped snuggly around your waist. You laughed as your friend recounted a story from your childhood. It had everyone with their heads thrown back, drinks threatening to tip out of their glasses in hand.

“Y/n, you and Drew were the absolute funniest,” she gasped through her cackles.

You signed in content, fondly thinking back to your friend. You had lost contact with Drew since he was casted in Outer Banks. He hadn’t seemed to really keep up with anyone from his hometown. You weren’t even sure if he knew you were married to Derek, one of his best friends. Or you suppose, old best friends.

Shortly after Drew left, you and Derek became close. Bonding over missing Drew’s presence, the two of you started hanging out with each other. He was everything you hoped. Handsome, charming, showering you with compliments or gifts. He proposed to you, and it wasn’t long before the two of you said I do.

As your husband’s grip tightened around your waist, you couldn’t stop thinking about Drew. You always thought of him as your first real love, even though nothing happened between you. You would always have a soft spot for him, even if it wasn’t reciprocated. You always assumed you’d end up with him, and had spent countless days daydreaming of marrying him. He made his stance clear when he left. At first, he would text you and update you, but that faded. You were lucky if he even saw an instagram story you posted. He had moved on, so you did too.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Drew stepped into the local cafe, his suitcase dragging behind him. He couldn’t come home without his first stop being to acquire his favorite coffee. He began walking up to the counter before something caught his eye. You were sitting in the corner booth, as always, iced latte in front of you and your nose in a book. Drew couldn’t help but grin, acknowledging the way your brows slightly furrowed. He knew you were at a good part of the book.

His mind took him back to countless days spent hunched over that very same table. Crunching for exams with notes spread all over the table. You used to always slam your hand down, telling him to focus. You never knew he wasn’t focusing because he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Y/n?” he called gently as he approached your table.

You looked up, pulled out of your imaginary world and gasped. You almost screamed at the sight of your old friend in front of you. You stood up immediately, wrapping your arms tightly around him. You breathed in his familiar scent, fuelling you with nostalgia.

“Drew,” you breathed, staring into his blue eyes with your hands on his arms. “You’re home.”

“Yeah, I had some time off,” he explained. “I’m happy to see you.”

You invited him to sit, placing you bookmark and closing your book. He had your full attention. He felt breathless seeing you in person again. You looked different, yet the same. He noticed something glint on the table and lowered his gaze. He saw the ring on your finger.

“You got married?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “To Derek, actually.”

Drew felt his heart sink. Derek was his best friend. Their whole life Derek knew the feelings Drew had for you. Derek was constantly telling him that you didn’t feel the same way, you liked someone else, he heard someone say you were seeing someone. Was it all a lie? Did he like you all along?

“I wasn’t invited?” Drew asked playfully, but was actually serious.

“We didn’t do a ceremony,” you explained. “He wanted to just elope, skip the other extravagance.”

He could hear the slight lilt in your voice as you said that. Drew knew for a fact you had been dreaming about your wedding day since you were little. You eloped? With no one to see? He just couldn’t picture it. With Derek of all people?

“You’d be in the loop if you came around more,” you muttered. “Or called every now and then.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Drew sighed, filled with guilt. His best friend got married and he had no idea. “I think I just got so caught up in everything. It all moves so fast it’s hard to keep up. I’ve been thinking a lot about you, about home.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “That was mean of me, you don’t need to explain.”

Drew went to keep apologizing, but another familiar face burst through the door. Derek strode over to your table, suit jacket perfectly ironed.

“Drew, babe, hey,” he said through a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Drew stood up and gave Derek a hug. Derek’s eyes stayed on you, darkening slightly. He was being nice to Drew, but you knew something was wrong.

“Y/n, you didn’t tell me you were hanging out with him,” Derek mentioned pleasantly.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting him,” you laughed. “He walked in and we just started chatting.”

“Well, we have to get home,” he said sharply. “Peter and his wife are coming for dinner, remember?”

“Of course I remember,” you laughed. “Drew, do you want to join us tonight?”

“I’d love to,” he smiled.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

The door slammed behind you as you walked in the front door of your house. You jumped slightly, turning to meet Derek’s eyes.

“Why are you sneaking around with him?” he sneered.

“He, is our friend. Your best friend, remember? I’m sick of you always accusing me of things,” you shot back.

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t act like a slut all the time.”

You froze. The words sunk into your skin. Worked through your veins. Slut. Derek had been on edge lately. Easier to set off. You noticed him snapping at you more often. Calling you names, telling you what to do. He was just stressed. That had to be all it was, right?

You silently walked towards the kitchen, being jolted back when his hand tightly grabbed your wrist, him telling you to look at him when he speaks. He yanked you back, slamming you into the wall behind you. You winced, pain shooting through your head.

“Y/n,” he whispered. “I-I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again I-I don’t know what happened.”

You felt the tears stinging the back of your eyes. The back of your throat burning. The back of your head throbbing.

“I’m gonna go start dinner,” you mumbled, and this time, he let go of you.

“I’ll go grab the wine,” he said, leaving the house with a quiet shut of the door.

You stood silently in your newly renovated kitchen. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but never did. You didn’t know how to react. Derek had been so perfect. You stood wondering what happened. How you got here. It was just a mistake, right? It had to be.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You put on a brave face as you set the table. The flowers Derek brought home for you set in the centre, with the expensive bottles of wine on either side. He apologized profusely, and you decided to let it go. You wanted to have a good night. You couldn’t let one spat ruin your night, or your marriage, could you?

Derek had never liked you hanging out with other guys. Honestly, he usually didn’t like you hanging out with other people in general. He always told you that he was the only one who would ever truly be there for you. Maybe he was right. Maybe you should have thought of him more. He always said you were too selfish, and maybe it was true.

Your friends slowly arrived, Drew following shortly after your other friends. He reached in for a hug, and you felt Derek’s eyes burning a hole in your back. You settled for a side hug, not wanting to be rude. You were a wife now, you had to behave like one.

Drew sat down next to you, and as you poured a glass of wine and took your first sip, you felt yourself unwinding a little. The conversation flowed easily, Derek’s hand never leaving your body. Whether it was your thigh, hand, arm, he was always touching you. You noticed when you talked to Drew, his grip got a bit tighter. Each time, you took a big gulp of your wine, trying to forget the events of the day.

Drew noticed as you flinched slightly, Derek’s hand on your arm. He whispered in your ear as you both stood up to leave the room, politely excusing yourselves. He stayed silent, knowing it wasn’t his business. You weren’t his, you never would be now.

Drew fell into conversation with the other couple, not knowing that in the next room you were being called a drunk by your husband, and told you were embarrassing.

“I’m worried about her.” He heard your friend, Belle, mumble into her husbands ear.

“About y/n?” he spoke up. He didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, but he had been gone for so long. He didn’t know anything that was happening in your life.

Belle nodded, looking over her shoulder to make sure everyone else was out of earshot.

“She’s just so different since marrying him,” she whispered. “She’s gotten so…small almost. Making herself small. She seems almost scared to set him off. She never hangs out anymore without him because he won’t let her. I don’t want to accuse him of anything, but I’m worried she’s being ab-”

She was cut off by you and Derek entering the room and taking your seats again. Abused? Was she about to say abused? No way. That couldn’t be. He knew Derek, didn’t he? If you were being hurt, he’d know, wouldn’t he?

The rest of the night Drew’s eyes stayed on you. He noticed small things, like how you nodded obediently to Derek. How Derek made sly remarks about your dress, or a mistake with the cooking. Could what Belle was saying be true?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You shut the door softly behind your last guest. Derek was on you immediately.

“You’re an embarrassment,” he scoffed. “Basically throwing yourself at him in front of me. You look like a drunk, and a mess.”

“Leave me alone, Derek,” you sighed. “I can’t do this anymore tonight.”

Before you could register what happened, a sharp pain hit your cheek, a loud crash around you. You clutched your face, the smell of red wine filling your nostrils. He threw the bottle at you. You felt something sharp in your face, pulling out the shard of glass lodged in there.

“Don’t talk back to me,” he screamed, making you jump back.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you whispered as you stepped out the front door. He needed a second to calm down, and you needed a second to process.

After a few deep breaths, you placed your hand back on the door handle, only to find it locked. He locked you out. You banged on the door, screaming his name and telling him to open the door.

“You can sleep on the street for all I care,” he yelled through the door. “I can’t look at your whore face anymore.”

You continued to bang on the door, tears streaming down your face for the first time since everything happened. You saw his shadow retreat, all the lights shut off. You were left alone in the dark. No phone, no keys, no shoes. He couldn’t leave you out here all night, could he?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Drew felt his pockets for his phone, to no prevail. He must have forgotten it at your place. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Belle said. Was she actually about to say abuse?

He shook it off briefly as he climbed back into the rental car, making his way back to your house. He hoped you would still answer the door. As he turned onto your street, he saw a girl walking. More like limping. She had no shoes on. He slowed down slightly, slamming the brakes as soon as his headlights revealed who it was.

“Y/n!” he panicked as he jumped out of the car, running up to you. “Are you okay? What happened? You’re bleeding.”

It felt like he was talking a mile a minute, unable to slow down.

“C-can I stay with you tonight?” you stuttered between sobs.

“Of course you can,” Drew whispered as his thumb swiped a stray tear away. “Come, get in the car.”

He opened the door for you and helped you in, rushing back to the drivers side. He didn’t care about his phone anymore. The only thing that mattered was you.

You say in silence as he drove, pulling into the driveway soon after. He helped you out of the car and into the house. He walked you to the bathroom, turning the light on to examine the cut on your cheek.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

“You’re hurt,” Drew said, tears prickling his eyes. He cleaned the wound gently, his warm hands treating you so tenderly.

“He…” you breathed. “He threw a bottle at me, then locked me outside.”

Drew’s jaw clenched as he tried to stay calm. It wouldn’t help if he got angry or freaked out. He wanted you to feel comfortable, despite all the thoughts and emotions running through him.

You didn’t say anything else for a while. Drew gave you a t shirt and sweatpants to change into.

“You can have the bed,” he said as he lifted the covers, urging you to climb under. “I’ll go on the couch. If you want to talk I’m here, okay?”

He turned to leave the room, but you stopped him.

“Drew?” you called, your voice barely audible. “Can you lie with me for a bit?”

He felt his heart jump as he walked to the bed, sitting on the edge for a minute before lying back beside you. He stayed on top of the covers, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. His mind spun with guilt. He never should have left you, or fallen out of touch. If he had been here to see the signs, he could have helped you. He could have stopped it. He couldn’t fathom his, now former, best friend hurting the girl he loved.

You lay there silently until you broke. Violent sobs shook your body. You felt Drew’s arms pull you close as you cried. He rubbed your back, assuring you that you were safe. He had you. When the tears finally somewhat relented, you spoke.

“He hurt me earlier today too,” you said. “After the cafe. He called me a slut and slammed me against the wall.”

Drew’s breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t bear to hear that this happened to you. He couldn’t even speak.

“How did I get here? I thought I was better than this. That I’d never put up with this,” you ranted. “I should have seen the signs, should have done something sooner. I just wanted someone to love me.”

“That’s not love, y/n,” Drew told you.

“I know,” you sighed. “I shouldn’t have married him. He made all these promises. When you left he…he told me you didn’t care. That he was the only one who would ever be there for me. I stupidly believed him. Who else would marry me?”

“Of course I care,” Drew choked, tears burning his eyes. “It hurt too much for me to be close to you. It was selfish and stupid, but I couldn’t bear it knowing you didn’t…love me back.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he quickly interjected. “I shouldn’t be talking about myself. I should have been here for you. I should have helped you.”

You knew you were technically married, but you hung on Drew’s words. Love him back? He loved you? That’s all you ever wanted to hear.

“What do you mean…didn’t love you back?” you asked.

“Derek…” he paused after his name, like it burned leaving his lips. “Told me you never saw me that way. That he was better for you and you wanted him. It hurt me too much.”

“Drew..” you breathed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassured you.

“Drew,” you repeated. “I’ve been in love with you since what feels like the moment I saw you. You were the one I always thought I would be with. When he told me you didn’t see me that way, I just wanted someone to care.”

Your words left Drew speechless. This whole time, Derek was playing both sides. The whole time, you could have been with him instead. You were manipulated and hurt, and it was his fault. He was a coward.

“Why are you crying?” you asked, cupping his cheek with your palm.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried. “I’m sorry I left you.”

“I can’t stay in that marriage Drew,” you sighed. “Especially not now. I shouldn’t have done it when my heart belonged to someone else.”

“Are you saying…”

“I love you,” you whispered. You head lay on his chest, and you felt his heartbeat speed up.

“I love you,” he replied. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

After sitting in silence for a while, you let out a yawn. He wanted to kiss you, but not like this. Not with you so vulnerable. It wouldn’t feel right.

“Get some sleep, angel,” he said, kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll be here in the morning to figure out the rest.”

You had no idea what to do, or where to go from here. Your mind was reeling, but now you were crashing from all the stress on your body. Whatever tomorrow brought, you would be okay. When you woke up, Drew would still be here. As long as he was here, it would be okay. It had to.

[lkfarrout]

Birthday Gifts (Stan x fem!Reader)

Summary: You find yourself at a party at the Mystery Shack, where you learn a few secrets about the host. Takes place during Double Dipper.

Warnings: Just fluff today :) Some kissing, but nothing sexual. Alcohol mentioned.

This is a long one - 4 chapters. But I wrote it all in a day so I figured I'd just put it all in one post. If you're confused about it being Stan's birthday during Double Dipper, check out this post. It's actually cannon!

And if you're curious, the song I reference is Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood.

Chapter 1

"Hey, watch it!" You grabbed your foot, wincing in pain.

The guy just shrugged at you and went back to dancing. If you could call it dancing? It was more like aggressively punching the air to the beat. As you made your way off the dancefloor, you could feel a lump rising in your throat and the tears began to flow. You looked for a door, any door. It had been a terrible night.

But for someone else, it had been a worse one. Stan Pines was alone in the kitchen, with two shots of liquor -- one in his hand, the other on the counter.

"Well, Stanford, here's to one more trip around the sun. I uh, I know I say every year that this'll be the last one I celebrate without ya, but this time I mean it." Stan clinked the glasses together, and downed his liquid courage. As he opened his eyes, he saw you come around the corner.

"Hey! Guests aren't allowed back here."

You jumped at the sound of his voice and began to frantically wipe your tears away, "Sorry, I'm leaving."

"Wait," his voice was softer now, "you okay?"

"Not really." You sniffled and stared at him. He was wearing a 70's disco outfit and a goofy fez. It was crooked, probably had to do with empty shot glass in his hand, you guessed.

"Ya wanna talk about it?" he asked, as he straightened his hat.

"It's nothing, I just. My friends ditched me tonight and its like, only teenagers here? And then this asshole stepped on my foot. It sounds stupid when I say it out loud."

He chuckled, "Well, sorry bout that, but if ya want to leave early, there's an exit fee."

You smiled a little at the joke, and then realized, "Oh, you must be Stan? Sorry I'm pretty new here and I still don't know everybody. I've heard of you though." You told him your name.

He took your hand and shook it firmly, "Good to meet ya."

"I see you're hiding the good stuff back here, huh?" You gestured to the liquor bottle, "Who's the other shot for?"

"Uh, nobody. You know what?" He slid it toward you, "You want it? Might make ya feel better."

You shook your head, "Oh, I was just making a joke. That stuff's pretty nasty."

"Okay, well, uh," he rubbed the back of his neck, "then, how about a dance?"

You were a little taken aback.

"With you?" You asked.

"Hey, I promise I won't step on your foot."

Chapter 2

The song wasn't exactly slow, but Stan pulled you into him and the two of you started to swing to the beat. You noticed then how big his arms were, and how well his white shirt fit him. It was lowcut, and he had on a gold chain poking through a bit of chest hair.

He was saying something, but you were too distracted to listen.

"Well, ya ready?"

"Yeah," you nodded, before realizing you had no idea what you'd agreed to, "wait, woah--"

Suddenly you were looking up into his eyes, and all your weight was supported by his arm. "See? I told ya, dipping is my specialty."

Your hand searched for something to grab onto, and settled on his ribcage. He pulled you back up, and you felt something under his shirt.

"Are you wearing a gir--"

"Bulletproof vest?" He cut you off, "Yeah." He leaned in and whispered in your ear, "When the shooting starts, get behind me."

You laughed at him, "Yeah right, Stan. If that's a bulletproof vest," you poked him on the exposed part of his chest, "you're definitely wearing it wrong."

He shrugged, "Hey it was worth a shot. And it made ya laugh, didn't it?"

You smiled, "Yeah, I guess it did."

A few of the party-goers were watching the two of you curiously, but he didn't seem to notice. You passed several more songs in Stan's arms, listening to his jokes and stories, and even enjoying yourself. Eventually, a song came on that you recognized.

"Oh, hey, this song's in 3/4," you commented. Stan raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry I'm kind of a music nerd," you laughed, "3/4 is my favorite time signature."

"Why's that?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"Oh, just cuz, that's the one that you can waltz to."

"Oh, like the cotillion dances in The Dutchess Approves?" As soon as he said it, he started to laugh nervously, and his eyes darted to the ceiling, "I mean... what is that?"

You laughed at him, "YOU watch The Dutchess Approves?"

He was red now, "I... may have seen some clips of it."

You punched him playfully on the shoulder, "Don't worry Stan, I won't tell anyone your secret."

He smiled back, and the redness subsided.

Chapter 3:

"Uh, since you say that, ya wanna hear another secret? Ya can't tell anyone."

"Okay, what is it?"

He coughed, "Ah, y'know maybe not, its-- its dumb."

"Oh c'mon you have to tell me!"

He shrugged, "Alright, today's my birthday."

"Really? Oh, Stan, happy birthday!"

He shushed you and looked around the room, "Not so loud, okay? Nobody else knows."

"What? You threw a party on your own birthday and no one knows?"

"Yeah, and I wanna keep it that way."

You could tell he was getting a little uncomfortable, so you decided not to pry and instead opted for a joke to lighten things up.

"But, Stan, if no one knows, how will you get any gifts?"

"Oh please," he laughed, "I don't even remember the last time I got a birthday gift. I must've been a kid."

"Well that just won't do," you shook your head. "If I'm the only one who knows I guess its up to me to get you something."

"Oh, no, c'mon we just met, I--"

You kissed him on the cheek. Speechless, he rubbed a hand over the spot.

"There you go, Stan," you whispered. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks, I, uh--"

Suddenly the music cut out, and the DJ announced it was time for karaoke. His touch lingered on you a bit before he let go. You both decided to get a little closer to the stage and listen to the blonde girl who was singing. Before you knew it, the song was over and a girl in a sweater and big orange bow was up.

After just a few lines she yelled, "Now I'm gonna do a flip!" And faceplanted. She popped back up with a smile, and Stan yelled, "That's my girl!"

Before you could say anything about it, the DJ asked, "Any other brave dudes want to try for the party crown?"

Stan elbowed you, "Hey you said ya like music? Why don't you get up there?"

"Oh, really, I couldn't--"

"C'mon," he insisted, "If you sing half as good as ya dance, you'll do great."

"Fine, but only because it's your birthday."

You flipped through the catalogue, "That one."

The song started with a country guitar lick and low saxophone. You pulled the mic out of the stand.

Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach blonde tramp

And she's probably gettin' frisky

Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink

Cuz she can't shoot whiskey

You watched Stan's eyes go wide. He was absolutely starstruck.

Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick

Showin' her how to shoot a combo

Oh, and he don't know

The crowd cheered as you started the chorus, and Stan whistled loudly. On a nearby beam, Dipper #8 sat unnoticed with a dollar on a fishing line. He shrugged, Stan seemed distracted enough.

As you decended the stage, several people complimented you, and Stan stood with his hands in his pockets and a crooked smile.

"Wow, Doll, if I knew ya had pipes like that--"

"Grunkle Stan, wasn't she amazing?" The girl from the song before popped up between you.

She turned to you, "You'll get the crown for sure!"

You patted her on the head, "That's okay, I don't want it. How about you go win it instead, huh?"

"I'm on it!" She ran back over to her friends.

The DJ's voice came back on over the mic, "Now we're gonna bring it down for a minute. Ladies, dudes, now's the time."

A slow song started to play and Stan pulled you back into his arms.

You laughed, "Okay, I have to know, what is a grunkle?"

Chapter 4:

The two of you continued to dance and talk for the rest of the party. He told you all about his neice and nephew, and pointed out a couple of employees. You only paused your conversation to cheer Mabel on for the party crown vote. After a while, guests started to file out and it was just you, Stan, the twins and their friends, and a few other stragglers.

"Do ya need to go?" he asked.

"Yeah, I probably should."

"Alright, I'll walk you out."

There was no one else outside. Stan leaned against the door of your car, "So, uh, about that birthday gift ya gave me..."

"What, you didn't like it?"

"No, I just feel bad," he shrugged. "I think I should give it back."

You couldn't hide your smile as he planted a kiss on your cheek.

You tried your best to look smug despite your blushing, "Well, good thing I have another one for you." You pulled him in by the collar and kissed him, this time on the mouth. His hands grabbed your waist and pulled you closer.

"I don't care how many you have, I'm just gonna give 'em back."

"Yeah?" you teased, "We'll see about that."

The two of you kissed several more times before Stan pulled away with a chuckle, "I think I lost track, can we start over?"

You were about to suggest a truce, when you heard Mabel yelling from the porch, "Grunkle Stan! My friends are sleeping over tonight!"

Stan sighed, and yelled back "Okay, sweetie!"

He turned back to you, and you commented, "That's too bad you have kids to watch, y'know, cuz I was gonna invite you to a sleepover at my house."

"Yeah?" he chuckled nervously.

"Oh wait! Before I go, I have a real gift for you!" Stan waited as you dug around in your glovebox.

"Here," you handed him a napkin with your number scribbled on it. "Happy birthday, Stan."

[throughparisallthroughrome]

give you my lovin

pairing: modern!anakin x reader

warnings: panic attack, mentions of sex, pregnancy scare, anxiety, vomiting

word count: 2.3k

description: reader and anakin are childhood best friends, but what happens to the friendship when the consequences of a one night stand catch up to them?

A/N: This is really bad and I wrote this at 4am bc my new meds are giving me insomnia. Don’t even know where the idea came from. Definitely not proof read or good at all.

You weren’t sure how you got here. Nothing in the past few weeks made any sense.

Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you slowly lifted your head up and into the mirror. The bags under your eyes were heavy, the weight of your new reality settling in as you took another sharp breath.

You focused on your lungs, feeling as they filled with air and gently deflated as you breathed out. Your index finger tapped against the sink, your breathing becoming more unstable as you gathered your thoughts.

The alarm went off. Your eyes shot open. Fuck.

Positive.

“Y/N, wait up! Jesus.” Anakin rushed behind you, pulling your backpack into his as you tried to make it to your class on time. Your eyes instantly rolled.

“Anakin, come on-“

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you, you’ve been off ever since- well- you know.”

“Anakin, please!” You turned to face him, cupping your hands over his lips, pretending not to notice how his cheeks flushed under your touch, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a college tour later and-“

“Y/N, for fucks sake, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks!” He yells, ripping your hand off of his mouth as he pulls you into an empty classroom and slams the door. “I love you.”

“Anakin, I know, but-“

“Y/N, I fucking love you.” He steps closer, his hands shaking as his thumb grazes your cheek. The lump in your throat was suddenly much bigger, the pressure behind your eyes building, becoming almost unbearable.

“Anakin, please- Don’t do this. Don’t ruin what we have. That was a mistake- a lapse in judgment. Please-“

“Y/N, I can’t stand here and pretend like I haven’t been in love with you my entire fucking life. Every. Single. Day. Every holiday, every family gathering, every vacation, every birthday- fucking everything! It’s always been you. I can’t be your best friend anymore. I want- need more. And if you don’t feel the same way…” He trails off, stepping away as his arm falls to his side. His lip begins to bleed, his eyes reddening at the sight of you.

“Anakin, I’m so sorry, I-“

He rushes out the door and down the hallway in an instant. Your apology was all he needed to hear.

“Fuck… Fuck!” You rub your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater, picking up your discarded backpack from atop of a desk. Checking your watch, you swear to yourself once more. You were 10 minutes late.

When the door clicked open into your english class, all eyes were immediately on you. Your stomach dropped. You knew how you looked. Your mascara smudged, your sleeves wet, your hands shaky and your cheeks puffy. Except now, you were 20 minutes late.

“We’ll talk later.” Mrs- whatever her name was mumbles, not even giving you the satisfaction of eye contact.

You scurry between the metal atrocities your high school calls a desk, finding your seat as fast as you could.

“What the fuck!” Ahsoka whisper-shouts from next to you, noticing your blank slate of a face. “Wait, what the fuck?”

“Anakin and I aren’t friends anymore.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“He’s in love with me.”

“Y/N-“

“Not now.” You turn away from her, pulling out your laptop and ignoring her dirty looks.

—————————-

“You had SEX with him?” Ahsoka shouts as you put your head into your hands from atop the picnic table.

“Jesus Christ, can you say it any fucking louder, Ahsoka!” You gently slap her arm, and her brows furrow as she slaps yours back, twice as hard of course.

“I thought you’d tell me when you lost your virginity, brat! And this happened a week ago!”

“He told me he loved me then, too.” You squeezed your eyes shut, begging for yourself to feel nothing.

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t-“

“Ahsoka, come on. It’s Anakin. It’s your brother. I just- wait- why are you making that face?” You stand up, crossing your arms as she avoids eye contact and slides against the trunk of the tree behind her.

“Listen, all I’m saying is that I’m not exactly surprised, is all. Anakin has always looked at you and cared for you a certain way-“

“That’s because he’s my best friend!”

“Y/N, be fucking for real. Come on. He has been head over heels for you since he was fucking 10.”

“Ahsoka,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the grass next to her.

“Y/N, I love you-“

“Not you too.”

“Shut up,” You grin as you roll over to face her, propping your head up on your elbow. “I genuinely don’t believe you when you say you don’t feel the same way.”

“Ahsoka, it doesn’t matter what I feel. We graduate in 4 months. It can’t happen. I’m not letting either of us hold each other back for something like that. We had a one night stand, and that’s as far as any romance between us should go.”

“You said should.” She raises a brow as you roll yours and scoff.

“Ahsoka, come on. You know what I mean. All I’m saying is that it’s not worth it. Anakin’s fucking amazing and gorgeous and perfect for me and yes- he’s everything I want. But I can’t do that. And he doesn’t need to know that.”

“Just don’t hurt yourself more than you should, Y/N. He’s always going to be a part of your life. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

—————————-

Positive.

Your hand went over your mouth as you choked back a sob, the pressure breaking as tears flowed down your cheeks. Your hands gripped the test, blinking in disbelief at the very clear second line.

“Y/N, come on! She’s almost here, what is taking so long!” Ahsoka shouts from outside the bathroom door, her footsteps approaching as you frantically throw the test into your backpack. The door opens.

“Are you crying- what’s going on?” Her arms come to your side as you throw yourself into her embrace.

“I’m sorry- I- I just got my period and I’m really emotional-“ You cries increase at your lie, letting yourself fall victim to Ahsoka’s soothing embrace.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay- things are okay. Are you sure you’re up to this dinner tonight? I know my Aunt Katie won’t mind if you miss-“

“No, Ahsoka, I’m going. It’s fine, I’m fine.” You pull away from her, turning your back and wiping your tears. “Let’s go.”

The steps creaked with every push of your doc martens against the spruce flooring. Anakin’s eyes shot towards the stairs from the kitchen, meeting yours. You watched his body tense, his brows furrow. Fuck. He knew something was up.

“Anakin, would you hold Grace?” Katie hands him the baby as her and Shmi begin to set the table. Your eyes soften.

Anakin smiles wide looking into Grace’s eyes, letting her reach up and grab his cheek, tracing her small fingers towards his nose. He blows raspberries into her face, laughing at her giggles and snorts. As he gently rocks her in one arm, he strategically reaches his arm into Katie’s baby bag to find a bottle. Fuck. It was kinda hot. But also- Fuck!

You sigh deeply, sitting on the bottom step and shamelessly never taking your eyes off of him. Your foot bounces, the knot in your stomach and the weight on your chest growing each time he smiles down at her. Your hands shake in your lap, your eyes unable to hold back the tears you so desperately wish wouldn’t fall. The dam breaks, slowly but surely, and a single tear makes it way down, scaling your cheek, down your chin, making its way to your neck. His eyes meet yours. Fuck. The knot in your stomach releases.

Before you think about it, you’re running out the front door and puking into Shmi’s azaelias. Your chest was heavier than before, the tears became a steady river along your cheeks as you coughed and leaned against the railing.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Anakin’s panicked voice meets your ears, his hand instantly on your back while his other pulls back your hair. You attempt to nod, but your body is weak and your legs collapse under you, the railing holding all of your body weight.

His hands instinctively meet your hips, guiding you to the porch swing while you sniffle and choke back another sob, as well as more puke. He bites his lip, his eyes scanning your shaky form. Your trembling hand finds itself reaching into his lap, interlocking with his own.

“Angel, talk to me. Please.” He mumbles, squeezing your hand as his eyes got redder.

You let all go- A new, different sob wracking through your body as you throw yourself into his arms. Your head rests against his bicep, staining his shirt with your mascara while you shiver and hiccup beneath him. He rubs circles into your back, mumbling that you’re safe and okay over and over again like a mantra he worshipped. You hear your mom poke her head out the door, feeling Anakin motion for her to leave.

There was no way out of this. Everyone knew. And you were crying in the arms of the man you love, pregnant with his child. You didn’t even get to celebrate getting into your dream school. You didn’t even graduate. In the span of 45 minutes, your entire life had changed. And you couldn’t hold that in any longer.

You sit up, facing his apprehensive eyes and taking both of his cold hands into your shaky ones.

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, squeezing his hands as your lungs tighten.

He nods slowly at you, his lips upturning in a small, solemn smile. He says nothing, coming closer and placing a long kiss on your forehead before cradling your head against his chest once again.

“Angel, this is all going to be okay.”

“Anakin, I’m in love with you.” You mumble against his chest, your word vomit getting the best of you after literal vomit had already done it’s job.

“W-what?” He pulls away, holding your face in his hands as your tears pool in his palms. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” You whisper again, attempting to smile. “I have always loved you. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Y/N, baby, come here.” Anakin pulls you back into him, “This is about you, okay? All about you. I want you to take as much time as you need.”

“Anakin, I got into Stanford today.” You whisper, confessing against his chest once again. His grip tightens.

“I’m so sorry.” He mumbles, feeling his body shake above you as he attempts to conceal his tears in your hair.

“Anakin, I Just- I- Please don’t be mad.” You shake against him, refusing to let your eyes meet. “Please.”

“Y/N, there’s absolutely nothing you could say right now that would make me mad. I swear to fucking God. Nothing.”

“I-I think I want to keep it. Keep the baby, I mean. I don’t know why or what-“

“Shhh,” He pulls away, putting a finger up to your lips and smiling, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. If you want to have this baby, then we’ll be the best fucking parents we can be. I just want you to be happy, okay?”

You go to exhale in relief, but there’s nothing there. Your lungs are tight, your eyes slam shut, there’s nothing but the sound of your heartbeat as everything around you goes black. A familiar ringing sound fills your ears, just as you wipe your trembling hands against your jeans.

“Angel, Angel, Y/N, hey, come back to me, come back. Deep breaths, okay?”

As your eyes flutter open, the porch spins around you. Your hands grip Anakin tightly, your throat closing as you try to search your mind for something, anything.

“You’re safe. I got you. I’m not going anywhere. Everything is okay. In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?” Anakin tried not to panic, he really did. He knew that was the last thing you needed. But watching the woman he loved for 8 years fall apart in front of him was like being stabbed repeatedly for eternity. It hurt.

“Ana-Anakin, Anakin- Please- I can’t-“ You choked out, whining against his chest as he rocked you in his arms.

“Squeeze me as hard as you need to, baby, I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me take care of you, okay? This will be all okay. Do you trust me?” He whispered against your head, waiting for the signal he needed.

When you nodded against him, he carefully pulled away, helping you stand up and lifting you with ease into his arms. He walked off the porch, around the house, and into the basement door. As you entered his bedroom, the smell of Anakin instantly filled your senses. And so did the air in your lungs. As he laid you on his bed, the weight in your chest was released, your dizziness fading, and your nausea gone. He kicked off his shoes and laid next to you, pulling you back into his comforting embrace.

“I got you, Y/N. I’ll always keep you safe.” You closed your eyes and turned to face him, burying your head into his chest. You took a deep breath. Anakin.

“Anakin, what about you?” You mumble against his ruined shirt.

“What do you mean, angel?” He hummed against your head.

“You said it didn’t matter what you thought as long as I was happy. I don’t like that. You deserve to be happy too.” He pulls his head from atop of yours, looking down at you with a smile.

“Y/N, you make me happy. There’s nothing to worry about. I will take care of all of this.” You nod, biting your lip and leaning back against him.

“Ani, I want to do this with you. I want to be with you.” He instantly pulls away. You freeze, your eyes slowly meeting his as you look up at him.

“Yeah?” He says, his smile wide in a toothy grin.

“Yeah.”

————————

[allyouneediskilly]

so is the Lance op or have i just locked tf in with this weapon?

[kittlyns]

I had yet another long, strenuous day yesterday and didn't finish work until super late and then I couldn't fall asleep until well past 2am cuz I was in so much pain from standing literally all day

[webism]

sugar daddy!gojo who cuts a deal with you one evening: for each orgasm he can pull from you, he'll transfer $1000 into your account. who has you on your back, sweat soaked and fucked boneless as he brings you to your eighth climax of the night.

who, instead of dirty talk, or talking you through it, he coos about all the things you'll get to buy with what you earn. "can get your nails done so pretty, oh and that bag i know you've been looking at baby," because cocky is an understatement and you're too cumdrunk to tell him to shut up even if you wanted to.

sugar daddy!gojo who pays your rent on the condition that he has his own key cut for him to use as he pleases. sometimes you'll come home to a new set of lingerie laid out on your bed. sometimes you'll open the door to flowers on the kitchen counter, other times it's diamonds.

who sometimes surprises you when you're home, too. he sneaks in as you're showering and gives you the fright of your life as he hops in with you. it's okay, though, because he makes up for the scare by dropping to his knees and eating you out with such scalding passion you barely notice the heat of the water against your skin any longer.

sugar daddy!gojo who takes you shopping with the intention of showing you off. of course people turn their heads when a pretty thing like you walks by with his hand dangerously low on your back. bags hang off his free arm full of gifts for you, who he loves spoiling more than life itself.

who can and will fuck you in the dressing room if you show him an outfit that he particularly likes. no one will notice, bar from the slightly sore gait you walk with for the rest of the day. pushes you against the full length mirror and fills you with his cum, makes you spend the rest of the day shopping with him leaking out of you.

sugar daddy!gojo who buys you a car despite always being the one to drive you around. he likes being behind the wheel with one hand inching up your thigh just a little higher at each red light. you swear he brought you your car just to show off, just to make the purchase obsolete.

who fucks you in it regardless of the fact that it never sees the road. parked in your garage it sees more movement than it ever would otherwise. he hardly fits even in the backseat, but it's worth it when his legs are splayed and you're bouncing on his cock like you have no regard for the expensive leather lined seats. not that it really matters if you mess them—he can buy another car.

sugar daddy!gojo who likes giving you your allowance in cash, just so he can have you on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock as he lazily counts out the thousands he'll gift you. every time you make him feel particularly good, he reaches over into his safe and pulls out a few more notes to add to the pile—laughs when you moan around his cock at the sight.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Nanami who drops to his knees the moment he arrives home, the feeling in his chest; indescribable because he knew his wife was upset… so very upset…

He loathed the guilt that clung to him as he had to work late and miss the date they planned just a few days prior. The front door creaked open as you heard him tiredly shuffle in, tossing his keys onto the counter with a bit more force than he intended. He rolled his neck side to side, in a futile attempt to release some of the stiffness in his muscles. He kicks off his shoes, not bothering to bend down and untie the laces, before commencing his walk of shame to your shared bedroom. 

Each step felt heavier, causing his heart to only beat faster every second. A thin sheet of sweat began to form on his brow as he approached closer and closer to the room. His fingers, diligently thread into his tie to pull it undone, tossing it mindlessly on the floor. A few buttons of his shirt came undone but it did nothing to relieve the growing tightness in his chest. He hesitantly reached for the door knob, and with a deep breath he opened the door as slowly as possible. 

And there you were. The soft light of the room revealed your silhouette as you sat up on the bed, your arms crossed over your chest tightly, as your eyes bored into him like daggers. No, you weren’t actually upset and he had obviously a good reason for his absence, but it was the first time he missed something like this– and the sting of it lingered in the room. 

He tentatively stepped closer to you, his expression full of guilt and desperation, like a puppy who had been scolded. The weight of an unspoken apology creeping on him. 

“Darling… I’m sorry," he whispered, barely audible. But he knew it wasn’t enough. No reaction from you, you wouldn't even turn to look at him, the silence between the both of you was suffocating. His fingers graze over your hand as his knees buckled, threatening to give away under the weight of guilt.

He falls to his knees before you, taking your hand in his. “Please, look at me, honey…” pleading eyes looking up at you, raw emotion in his voice as he presses a soft kiss on your delicate hand. His fingers intertwined with yours as you finally grace him with your gaze, the eyes he so dearly loved finally on him. His grip was soft yet pleading, almost as if he was afraid you’d let go. 

“I feel terrible…” kiss “It will never…” kiss “happen again…” kiss

Each one of his kisses had you in trance and you truly believed him, Nanami wasn’t the man to tell you empty words. You look down at the mess of the man on his knees for you, your hand comes to his cheek, caressing it. 

“I forgive you…” You utter, as you look at him, into his eyes of honey. 

Those three words…

That was all he needed to hear. His breath was caught in his throat and for a moment he just stared at you before taking a deep breath. Relief washes over him and all the guilt slowly disappears. His head drops into your thighs and rests there a moment, still holding your hands. 

“I will spend an eternity making it up to you…” he finally speaks up. His statement makes you smile. You thought he was joking but he wasn’t. 

“Starting now,” he declares, a spark of confidence returning to his body. 

Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head down, his lips brushing softly against your knees. His kisses are tender and calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing. His lips trailed along your thighs, the warmth of his breath sending soft shivers up your skin. 

You sighed softly, your fingers threading through his hair, delicately pushing it back from his face. You wanted to see him, to really look at him, at the man you loved now between your legs. 

His kisses trailed higher and higher. Nanami was a smart man. He knew just what to do and how to ease the weight of the situation from your mind, to make you forget. 

“You’re so gorgeous” He mumbles in between kisses. A red tint creeping up on your face at those simple words. “But you know that already, don’t you?” he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I tell you everyday…” He whispers, right into the heat between your legs. Your back arches up off the mattress and he knew he just had to have you already.

“May I?” he asks, his pointer finger hovering right over where you needed him most. You gave him a quick nod and that was all he needed. He slowly slides your panties down your legs before begging to devour you, entirely. 

Nanami learned everything that made his pretty girl feel good, and he planned to do everything tonight. Every flick of his skilled tongue had you in a chokehold, the way he held your legs open with his strong arms all while still on his knees. He explored every inch of you, lapping up everything you gave him, his fingers joining in to only make you feel that much better. 

Orgasm after orgasm had your mind hazy but Nanami had to make sure you knew he was sorry. And he did make good on his promise. He never ever forgot again. 

[bi-writes]

Okay but MOB sitting on Simon's lap, cuddling as they watch some movie Simon picked out because it was his turn. At one point she gets up and he thinks she's just going to use the restroom, hands on her hips to help stabilize her. Only instead of leaving, she turns around and sits on her knees between his legs. She bats her eyes at him but otherwise just soaking in how pretty he is. He probably makes a joke, says he loves her and when he still doesn't move figures she just wants a moment and continues to watch the screen.

When she finally works herself up to it, she starts sliding her hands up and down his thighs and just the sensation and imagery alone has him hard and he can't bring himself to ask her to stop when it feels so nice. Eventually her hands wander up further and she begins to play with the button of his jeans. Still not stopping her, even as she unbuttons and zips them down to pull out his erection. When he finally looks down, she stops and stares innocently up at him.

As soon as his attention's somewhat back up on the screen, she repositions herself and licks a stripe up his dick to bring his head into her mouth to swirl around. He doesn't even last that long and she doesn't let him pull her off when he comes.

Or something like that...

mail-order bride (18+)

simon likes action movies. they're his favorite, by far. he likes to watch the over-the-top car races in the middle of metropolitan cities, he likes big, stupid explosions and when the protagonist has their enemy at the end of their gun and says something cheesy like "you're not going anywhere now."

he told you once that he likes the simplicity. the happy endings. the key recovered, a family saved, the epic conclusion of an explosive journey that always ends in the bad guy in handcuffs and the good guy on a beach sipping a mai tai, getting the girl, saving the world.

you think maybe he likes it because it dampens reality. you have seen the aftermath of an op gone wrong; in this way, simon can fantasize just a little. he can pretend that there is nothing wrong with the world for 90 minutes or so.

what's so wrong with that?

he's so pretty.

he ran errands for you today. came back from the store with a paper bag in his hands, setting it down on the counter and unpacking it. you were sat at the kitchen counter, the orange cat wrapped up completely in a burrito of a towel so you could cut her dagger-like claws without risk of retaliation. simon was watching carefully out of the corner of his eye, but as he unpacked the bag, you had all but melted in your chair.

a refill of your favorite makeup remover (you were going to run out tonight, guaranteed). vitamins (ya look right sick, baby, drink y'r juice). your favorite brand of pads (just tell me which ones, i'll get it right, promise). sour sweets (cherry-flavored, of course, sour because he likes the face you make when you pop them into your mouth). when the last box hit the counter, you had dropped the cat, much to her relief.

condoms. fucking condoms.

no, he's not pretty. simon is so fucking hot.

he doesn't budge when you get up to put the empty popcorn bowl into the sink. when you come back in the room, simon is still staring at the television, eyes trained on the spy on screen hopping between rooftops as they dodge bullets. you bite your lip watching him, unable to stop thinking about simon, simon, simon.

he's wearing nice jeans. straight jeans, but even the extra give doesn't matter when your husband is made of pure muscle and fat. you can see his stomach through his shirt since it's tucked in, white fabric showing off that nice pudge that you love laying your head on, your palm, knowing how solid and strong he most certainly is. nghghhhh, and his arms--big, bulging, tattooed, a perfect canvas for colorful markers or glitter or maybe your tongue.

it's subconscious, really. the carpet is soft under your knees as you kneel at his feet, lowering yourself so you can blink up at him big and wide as he keeps his eyes on the movie. he does notice you, however; his big hand slides down his thigh, and your eyes flutter a little when he passes it over your head then down your face, a pretty little pet between his legs.

"not supposed to be on y'r knees f'me, baby," simon mutters, but you can't answer because his thumb slips into your mouth. you wrap your lips around it absentmindedly, running your tongue over the thick pad of it. "tha's my job."

you sit up on your knees, leaning over him, and he gives you his attention finally, a twitch of a smile as he bends his neck a little and kisses you warmly. you steady yourself by putting your hands on his thighs, gripping the meat of them firm as you slip your tongue into his mouth and draw a low grunt from deep within his chest.

"always working for me, simon," you whisper between kisses. "always..."

fuck, the blood rushes to his cock almost immediately. he has such a soft spot for you. taking care of you, doing things for you, buying you what you need--it makes him so fucking hard thinking about fulfilling every need of yours. you deserve nothing but nice dreams, good meals, happy cats, a well-loved pussy, all the love his broken heart can give. he chubs up in his pants every time you ask him for something.

can you carry this for me, simon?

oh, i need some help with this, baby, just here...

can you get me more of this? i'm about to run out.

the zipper is stuck, simon...can you get me out of this?

ugh, you're his walking wet dream. and you're kneeling in between his legs, his sweet girl pouting up at him, and--oh, fuck--

your hands are soft under his shirt. you've untucked it just enough, your warm fingers sliding along the band of his jeans. he hisses a little, his body stiffening, and you smooth a thumb over his belt before kissing him again.

"you're so pretty, simon," you whisper, and he licks over your bottom lip in response, drawing a soft whine out of you. his thighs widen just a little when he hears the clink of his belt, feeling the waistband loosen as you draw it out from the loops and toss it onto the carpet behind you. "such a handsome man you are..."

"come off it," simon growls a little, and you giggle, freeing the button and slipping your hand down. his mouth falls open in a silent moan as you cup him with a hot hand, fingers sliding under his length to fondle his balls.

"mmm..." you follow his sputtering mouth, breathing him in. "actually, simon...i really, really wanna get on it..."

"wot a brat," simon murmurs, clicking his tongue. "can't be fuckin' patient--ahh!"

you pull him out of his jeans with a firm tug before sticking your tongue out and kneeling back down to lick a curious stripe up the underside of him. simon is pulsing, radiating heat and already leaking beads of stringy pre-cum, and as you suck the tip of him into your mouth, you realize just how thick your husband really is.

you've never seen him quite this naked, quite this up close. when he fucked your thighs, he had felt big, but his cock is truly making a space for itself in your mouth--

"ah!" you gasp as he fists your hair and pulls you off, leaning down to kiss you hard.

"baby--"

"i want it--" you whimper, using your hands, letting the spit from your mouth drip down his cock as your fingers spread it wide, pumping him softly. "simon, please! please! you always say...always say i can have whatever i want, please..."

when he lets your hair go, you dive. you suck him into your mouth, practically purring as you press him back into the couch and suck. he tastes like a man should, like a husband should, musk and a little sweat and just enough soap to have you a little light-headed. with the first bob of your head, simon shudders, a big hand cupping the back of your neck as he drops his chin to his chest to watch you. he uses his other hand to push your hair back, his mouth falling open a little as he watches your eyes roll back in your head as you try to fit more of him into your mouth.

your mouth squelches with every bob. spit gathers around the edges of your mouth, little globs dripping out as you slurp and flick your tongue over every vein and soft patch of skin. you're making a mess of him, all soft mouth and wiggly tongue and gentle moans that make him seize up.

it's not even a minute of your soft sucking, and simon is caught off guard by his own release. he wants to apologize, but you look so fucking pretty, coughing a little around his wet cock.

you don't stop then either.

some of it drips down around your hands, his own cum webbing between your fingers and getting onto the front of your shirt and staining his jeans, but you keep your mouth on him. you nuzzle the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek, pull off just enough to suck so softly on the tip of him.

"baby, fuck--" simon chokes, watching you through lidded, hazy eyes. "please, fuck--"

"i want it," you whisper, smoothing a wet hand down his length. he's getting hard all over again, and he nearly cums a second time when you let your eyes find his and pepper kisses from the tip of him all the way to the base. "don't i get w-whatever i want, simon? c-can't i...can't i have more?"

simon chuckles a little. he uses his thumb to swipe a glob of cum off your chin, bringing it up to his own mouth to suck off with a snort.

"you want more, baby?" simon asks, and you sit back up on your knees, pressing your forehead to his as he eyes your lips. they're a tad swollen, kiss-bitten and wet. "wot more do ya want, hmm? wot is it my wife wants so much, huh?"

you smile, wide, those big eyes sparkling. you give him another slow stroke with your hand, and he hisses, gritting his teeth as he watches your smile get just that much bigger.

"i want you to stop playing games with me, simon," you say softly. "you'll never win. so just give me what i deserve."

"wot you deserve?"

"don't i deserve you, simon?" you ask, and when he fails to answer, you swipe your thumb over his cock, drawing a cracked groan out of him. "you won't make me beg, will you, simon?"

"no," simon pants, leaning further into you, pressing his face to yours. "never. my wife doesn't beg for anythin'."

"you promise, simon?"

"my wife gets woteva she fuckin' asks for. olways."

[retiredteabag]

winter weight (nanami ver)

Synopsis: nanami has gained some weight this winter, it seems you don't mind.

based on this fanfic I wrote for Toji which was based on this fanart! thank you @lil-sis for requesting more nanami :,)

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had known Nanami Kento for years before you were romantically involved. He had never made an inappropriate comment, always treated you with the utmost respect, and was all-around, the truest form of a gentleman.

For a time, you locked away your feelings for the kind man, sure he could never see you in that way, but little did you know, the man in question hid from your gaze, not because he did not want to see you, but in fear that you would see him. See him for what he was: a man, obsessed.

You had been with Ken for nine months now and he was everything you could want and more. He was communicative, thoughtful, and romantic. He looked at you in a way nobody had before. Likewise, for you, those nine months passed with comfortable ease.

This was your first winter together, and with the changing of the seasons you learned day by day that the man you knew was your life partner. The both of you were homebodies in a sense, however, with the chilly air and light snowfall this week, you were even more keen on a night in together.

You raced around the house, lighting candles, simmering mulling spices on the stove, and laying out blankets for the two of you. The house felt even cozier knowing that Ken was coming to join you.

He had spent the afternoon with his parents and was coming over after having dinner, he told you to eat without him and you had just finished cleaning your plate when you received a text,

"I am on my way now, sweetheart, is there anything you would like from the store?"

Ken was like this, domestic in the way that made you want to bounce around the room. You thought for a moment before deciding you would probably need more eggs. Earlier this week the two of you had planned a movie night, the next morning you were both hoping to bake cookies together while playing board games or taking turns reading to one another.

You informed him of the need for eggs and he told you he would be just a few more minutes. During that time you scrolled through the choices of movies, picking a few for the two of you to choose from.

Despite being together longer than the gestational period for a baby human, you still received butterflies in your stomach at the thought of his arrival. Knowing he was nearly home, you bounded to the kitchen and faced the door, the room smelled delicious, the only thing missing was his presence, and perhaps another layer of clothing.

Even so, you could hear his footsteps approach and knew that the two of you would share a blanket and body heat in no time.

When the man finally opened the door he was smiling shyly, a red dusting across his face from the cold. He wore a long winter coat, and in his arms were a bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift.

You rushed to greet him, taking the day bag from his arm,

"Oh! Ken, they're beautiful!" You stood on tiptoe as he bent his knee and you kissed his cold cheek. "Goodness, you're freezing! Come in please!"

"Hello, my love." He smiled more broadly now, wrapping his free arm around you, "This if from my parents, but they told me not to let you open it until the holidays."

A warmth ran through you, the Nanami's were all too kind. Kento set the flowers on the counter and stepped toward the coat rack by the door to retire his shoes and jacket.

In the motion it took for him to pull the sleeves off his broad shoulders, you took him in. Leaning on the kitchen counter you allowed yourself to stare at him. His dress shirt was tight on his arms, and his suit pants clung to his thighs. You took a step toward him again.

"I almost don't want you to change, you look so handsome in your work clothes."

"Well, I've certainly put on some weight. These pants hardly fit now." he looks increasingly uncomfortable, not to be in your presence but to show that he was dressed in such a tailored fashion.

"Ken, my dear, you look incredible." You contain the desire to squeeze his thigh by walking to the bedroom and bringing out a pair of sweats and a cotton shirt.

"Although you are a delight to see this way, I'll let you get comfortable." You smile and pinch his bicep.

"Thank you, dear, I don't believe I've ever been so heavy. It's all the good restaurants you introduce me to, perhaps I should get back into the gym." He had grabbed the soft clothes you picked for him and walked into the bedroom to change.

"You're the one bringing me to all those good restaurants so you can't just blame me." You smile from outside the door.

"I'm just grateful you're with me" He laughs, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Ugh!" You exclaim, "Of course, Ken, don't say something so ridiculous." He laughs but you are still caught on what he said earlier. "And don't start going to the gym, you look great, very chewable."

He pops out from behind the door and looks down at you, amused. "I'm not sure how to feel about that descriptor, but if you still like me with extra weight, then I suppose I can remain comfortable."

"Still like you?" You gasp offended, "Ken, I grow more attracted to you every day, I don't care how tight your clothes are, in fact, it's a good look."

He gives you a mischievous face, "Go sit on the couch, pick a movie, stop trying to seduce me."

You laugh, incredulous, "I'm not trying anything, I'm only speaking the truth." You shrug, bounding to the couch and crawling beneath the blanket. Ken brings two mugs of cider before joining you.

That night you lay on his chest, watching a cheesy romance, the both of you laughing at the silly main character. You tilt your head up, to watch his face, your eyes catching the beginning of a few grey hairs dispersed in his blonde hair. You gently run your hand through his undercut.

In that moment, in his arms, as comfortable as you've ever been, you are sure, he is the man you will grow old with.

[imaginedisish]

Close to You (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Oh my god. I got so carried away with this. It was not supposed to be this long. Anyway, here's the beach fic, y'all. This one is inspired by "Close to You" by Gracie Abrams...which is an absolute banger. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The team goes away on a weekend beach trip, and your pining for Logan comes to a head when you're forced to share a room...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!! Thigh riding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, soft!Logan, feelings, fluff, afab!reader/fem!reader, reader wears a bikini (no descriptions at all, though!), one bed trope (muahaha), friends to lovers, cursing, absolutely some grammatical errors bc this fic is so long, I think that's it!

Word Count: 6,577 this was so self indulgent

You step out onto the concrete and the salt in the air immediately coats your skin. The breeze is sticky and slightly humid, but it smells so good. You can hear the waves crashing against the sand, seagulls squawking above. Laughter on the boardwalk. Carnival music blaring from all the rides. It’s perfect—the sun is high, fluffy white clouds framing the endless blue sky.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Jubilee cheers, closing the car door as she slides out of the Jeep. 

Jean and Scott step out of their car, parked just up ahead, unloading their bags. “It’s so nice of the Professor to give us the weekend off!” Jean says excitedly, placing her bag down onto the sidewalk and wheeling it up to the porch of the house. “I can’t believe he rented this place for us.” It’s a yellow, two-story cottage with a lemonade porch, adorned with white shutters and a shingled roof.

Logan makes his way to the trunk of his Jeep, pulling out bag after bag. You rush to his side, reaching inside the trunk. “Let me help you,” you mumble as the rest of the team excitedly approaches the house. 

Logan smiles and shakes his head, reaching for the same bag you are. His fingertips brush yours as he takes the bag away, your heart beating in your chest at the sudden contact. “Don’t worry, princess,” he huffs, smirking as he places the bag down in front of you. Heat rises to your chest at the nickname. “Don’t lift a finger. Go inside and check out the place.” He nods his head towards the front door and grabs another bag. 

You smile, throwing your backpack over your shoulder, grabbing two bags, and carrying them to the front door in protest. “Gonna help you anyway,” you say over your shoulder. Logan chuckles as he closes the truck, grabbing the rest of the duffle bags and following behind you. 

He meets your side as you walk through the doors. The walls are pale blue, and the bottom halves are lined with white shiplap. Beechwood covers the floors. The living room is light and airy, white curtains floating through opened windows. The kitchen is off to the side, and to the back is a large open sunroom. Just straight ahead are the stairs. 

Jean and Scott settle some groceries on the counter as Jubilee, Kurt, Rogue, and Gambit head upstairs to see the bedrooms. 

“Hey, guys?” Jubilee calls from upstairs. You can tell by the sound of her voice that something is off. “I thought the Professor said there’d be six beds.”

Jean puts away a bag of chips and steps back into the living room, following Jubilee’s voice up the steps, and disappearing as her feet hit the landing. “How many are there?” She asks, her voice muffled.

“Five,” Jubilee answers. “Three queens and two bunk beds, and Kurt and I took the bunks already.”

“That’s fine,” Jean says, shrugging her shoulders as she heads back downstairs. “We’ll all just be a little tight—closer quarters than usual.”

And that’s when it finally hits you. Three queen beds—and Kurt and Jubilee took the twin bunks. 

You’ll be sharing a room with Logan.

You turn to him and find that his eyes are already on you. “You okay sharing, princess?” He asks, nodding to the steps.

You swallow harshly, trying to mask your nervousness, hoping Logan can’t hear the way your heart beats out of your chest. “Yeah!” You say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Totally fine with it.”

He nods, smiling softly as he walks towards the steps, his bags in his hands. You follow behind him, the wood stairs creaking with every step you take. 

Jean was not exaggerating; the upstairs of the house is extremely small. There may be four bedrooms—but bedroom is a generous title. Each room is only large enough to hold a queen bed, a single dresser, and a small nightstand on either side of the bed. There’s little to no walking room. One of the rooms—Kurt and Jubilee’s—has just a bunk bed and a nightstand, with a tiny wardrobe in the corner. In the center of the tight hallway is a bathroom with a simple sink, toilet, and a stand-up shower. 

Logan steps into the first bedroom to the left of the stairs and puts his bags down on the ground. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asks, watching as you put your bags down next to his. “I can sleep on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shake your head, walking over to the window and taking in the view of the ocean. “Don’t worry,” you say, watching kids run across the sand, trying to distract yourself from how close Logan is to you in this tiny room. “We’re adults.” You turn to face him, fighting the urge to let your eyes trail up and down his body. “We can share.” Or at least, you hope you can. 

You can handle this for a weekend. You can force down your feelings—can ignore your massive crush on Logan for seventy-two hours. That’s all this is. A weekend trip. This is doable. You’ve been through so much worse than this. 

“If you change your mind, you can let me know,” Logan says, reaching his arm out towards your shoulder. His knuckles brush against your bare skin, and you let yourself lean into his touch. He’s warm, solid, cozy—

“Let’s go to the beach!” Jubilee interrupts, Logan’s hand falling from your shoulder instantly. “We didn’t come here to sit in a house all weekend, did we?” She jumps away from the door and runs down the stairs. 

 “Kid has a point,” Logan says, shrugging his shoulders and nodding towards the door. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling widely. “Already have my bathing suit on.” Logan smiles back and grabs your wrist, tugging you into the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door. 

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

You’re sitting on the beach, watching as Jubilee and Kurt splash each other recklessly in the water. Jean sits in a chair, reading a book, while Scott lays on a beach towel, eyes likely closed behind his glasses. Rogue and Gambit walk down the shoreline, hand in hand.

Logan stands up from the beach blanket you share, tugging his beater up and over his head. “I’m going in,” he says, just to you. “Wanna come?” He reaches out his hand again, the same hand that tugged you the whole way here. You bite your lip, nerves building in your stomach again. “Come on,” Logan says, smirking. “I don’t bite.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, and you take his hand, standing up. You let go and tug your shorts down your legs. You look up at Logan as your fingertips find the hem of your tank top, his eyes trained firmly on you. Your stomach somersaults as you pull your shirt up your body, revealing your bikini top, knowing Logan is watching. 

Logan’s throat bobs as he swallows. He nods towards the ocean, wordlessly grabbing your hand again and tugging you along. 

The waves lap at your ankles, and you force yourself into the cold water. Logan seemingly has no problem at all, pulling you along from a few feet ahead. The water is already up to his hips. He looks behind at you, all wide-eyed and happy. 

“You’re not afraid, are you?” He teases, squeezing your hand tighter. Your heart drums against your ribcage at the feeling. He’s never held your hand like this. You try to shove down your feelings, to brush away how having him this close makes you feel, but nothing changes. You want him all the same. 

You take a deep breath and shake your head as the cold water barrels against the middle of your thighs. “No,” you protest. “I’m just freezing.” 

Logan smiles wider. “You gotta get all the way in!” He tugs you further, pulling you closer to him so that you’re shoulder to shoulder. You can’t tell if it’s the icy waves or your proximity to Logan that makes your heart freeze in your chest, that makes you crave the warmth of his body. You want to be close to him. You want him to pull you into his chest and hold you. 

“Do I have to?” You ask playfully, a half-smile turning up at the corner of your mouth. 

He jokingly rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he says, dropping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist instead. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. You choke on your own breath as he guides you further into the water. “You okay?” He asks. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble, his fingertips pressing against the bare skin of your stomach. Goosebumps pebble your flesh. Finally, Logan guides you all the way into the water, up to your shoulders. It’s a surprisingly calm day—the waves easy and gentle. 

Logan lets go of your waist and treads water, slipping underneath the dark blue current and coming back up—his hair wet, drops of water dripping down his face and neck. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips at the sight. 

“Your turn,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes half shut as he swims towards you. 

Your smile drops as you swim away. Logan grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him. You yelp as he tugs you closer. You turn around and splash him playfully, freeing yourself from his grasp as he wipes the salt water off his face. 

You laugh, still backing away from Logan. He creeps forward, assessing you like an animal stalks its prey. “You’re not getting away that easy, pretty girl,” he huffs. 

What was that? Your eyes widen as those last two words repeat in your head. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice him closing the gap between the two of you. Suddenly his hands are on your hips, dragging you into his chest. 

His grip is like iron around your waist, keeping you in place, your hips pressed to his, your chests touching lightly. You don’t feel the coldness of the water anymore—you can’t feel anything except Logan. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. The world stopped long ago, his arms wrapping around your back now, pulling you closer. The playfulness of the moment disappears—this is something else, something more serious. Logan brings his face closer to yours, his lips just centimeters away. This is it, you think to yourself. The moment when everything finally changes—

“Hey!” A familiar voice calls from the beach. Logan’s eyes fall closed—an almost defeated look painting across his face. Your head whips to the sand, and the team is standing by the beach chairs. Jubilee waves you and Logan over. “We’re going to the boardwalk! Come on!”

Logan opens his eyes. You think he’s going to push you away, to let you go, but he only holds you tighter. “Give us a second!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice. 

But Jubilee crosses her arms against her chest. Scott chuckles and walks ahead with Jean. Gambit and Rogue look at each other knowingly, and Kurt teleports to the edge of the water. 

“And just like that…” Logan murmurs, half to himself, half to you. “Moment ruined.” 

You tilt your head, the implication of his words wracking your brain. “What do you mean—” 

But Logan is pulling you along with him to the shore before you can finish asking for clarification. His arms drop from your waist, his hand grabbing yours to guide you onto the sand. He bends down, picking up your shorts and top from the beach blanket the team left out, and passing them to you. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, your hands parting as he shoves his beater up and over his head. Once you’re dressed, flip-flops and all, you join the team and make your way up to the boardwalk. 

Gambit is talking with Logan about something just ahead, trailing on and on, clearly irritating Logan, while Rogue falls back to walk with you. 

“So,” she says softly, her eyes flitting between you and Logan. “What’s going on there, sugar?” She asks, smirking. 

You furrow your brows, trying to hide your smile. “Nothing that I know of,” you say, somewhat honestly. This might be nothing—might just be a friend teasing another friend. A friend whose lips were just inches from yours, so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. A friend who dug his fingers into your waist to pull you closer to his—

“Nothing, huh?” She asks, snapping you back to reality. “Because I think he would’ve kissed you if Jubilee didn’t interrupt,” she whispers so only you can hear. 

Heat rises to your chest at her words. “I don’t know. We’re just friends…” You trail off. 

“We’ll see about that, sugar,” Rogue says, walking ahead, tearing Gambit away from Logan. Logan’s shoulders visibly relax once Gambit is gone, and he looks back at you, slowing his steps so that you can meet his side. 

“Hi,” he husks, smiling down at you. 

You smile back, the warmth of his hand suddenly spreading across your lower back. It’s gentle, the ghost of a touch, almost not quite there—more tentative than in the ocean when it felt like no one was watching. But it’s solid and centering all the same. 

“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel!” Jubilee suggests, holding out the ticket booklet that Jean and Scott ran ahead to buy. She tears out tickets—three for each person. Jean and Scott hold hands and walk to the front of the line. Rogue leans over to Jubilee, whispering something into her ear that makes her eyes widen. She nods and pairs off with Kurt. Rogue turns around and winks at you while Logan isn’t looking. 

You look up at him and see that he’s staring off at the sun slowly setting. Pink, orange, and red erupt in the sky, the colors blending, painting across the wispy clouds. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” you say as the others climb into the Ferris wheel gondolas in pairs. 

Logan smirks, his eyes finding yours as you approach the front of the line. “Looks like it, pretty girl,” he husks. There it is again. Pretty girl. The ride attendant slows down the wheel, and you and Logan slip inside the gondola. You think maybe he’ll sit across from you, but he sits next to you instead. 

The attendant closes the door of the gondola, and the ride starts up. Once you’re off the ground, Logan slips his arm around your shoulder, his palm warm against your bare skin. “This okay?” He asks, his lips at the shell of your ear. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your breath catching in your throat as his thumb brushes gentle circles into your arm. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck, and he leans against you, fitting together like puzzle pieces. 

It’s silent communication—knowing, but not saying. You can feel his intention as his arm tugs you closer, his lips at the crown of your head. Your heart beats out of your chest—for the millionth time today—and you know he can hear it. 

You reach the top of the Ferris wheel and look out at the ocean, the sun hitting the water, turning the blue waves to gold. “It’s beautiful,” you mumble, the current rippling against the shore, glistening vibrantly like the ocean figured out alchemy. 

Logan chuckles softly. “I can think of something prettier, you know,” he husks, his lips still pressed into the crown of your head. Your heart thumps in your chest at his words. You lift your head, looking up at him.

His eyes meet yours, a soft smile playing upon his lips. “Logan, I—”

But the gondola comes to a sudden stop, and the door to the car swings open. You’re already back on the ground. The attendant crosses his arms, waiting for you and Logan to get out. Logan rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and helping you back onto the boardwalk. The team is already off the ride, waiting for the two of you at the exit.

“Why don’t we play some games and then head back to the house for the night?” Scott suggests, his arm wrapped around Jean’s waist. 

Jubilee smiles widely. “Yes! I wanna play the game where you throw the lobster into the pot!”

“Gambit’s gonna win chere a prize,” Gambit drawls, tugging Rogue into his chest. “The biggest one Gambit can find.” Rogue giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Jubilee and Kurt run off to the other side of the boardwalk, immediately finding the lobster-pot game. Jean and Scott follow behind, making sure they don’t get into trouble. Rogue and Gambit go out on their own, heading toward the ring toss game. 

You and Logan are left alone. Again. Surely everyone is doing this on purpose. “What do you wanna play?” You ask, nodding towards the array of games lined up on the opposite side of the boardwalk. 

His eyes meet yours, flitting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Whatever you want, darlin’.” You smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards balloon darts. 

You approach the booth, and Logan pulls out his wallet, handing a five-dollar bill to the woman running the game. She slides a cup of five darts towards you and Logan, and steps off to the side, away from the balloons. Logan watches as you grab a dart and throw, completely missing the balloon you were aiming for. You groan, rolling your eyes, and grab another dart. 

“Here,” Logan rasps, standing behind you. He holds your hand in his, lining the dart up to a balloon. His other arm wraps around your waist, the front of his hips pressing into your back. “Like this,” he murmurs, pulling your hand back. You let go of the dart when he thrusts forward. The dart pierces a balloon, the pop echoing through the booth. 

You look up at him, his face close to yours, and smile. He grabs another dart, his eyes still focused on you, and throws without looking away, popping another balloon. “Now you’re just showing off,” you say teasingly as your smile grows wider. He grabs another dart, aiming at a bigger balloon this time, and pierces it with ease. 

“Gotta win you a prize, pretty girl,” he says, grabbing the last dart from the cup, and tossing it across the booth, directly into the biggest balloon on the board. It pops—of course—and the game attendant’s jaw drops. 

She shakes her head, walking over to the bigger prizes. “Never seen anyone do that before…” she trails off, pointing to the giant plushies. “You can pick any of these.”

Logan’s arm sneakily wraps around your waist as he waits for you to pick between a giant fox, panda, or dolphin. “The fox, definitely the fox,” you decide. 

The attendant grabs the fox and pulls it down, handing it to you. You squeeze it to your chest, Logan’s grip on your waist tightening. “He’s so cute!” You giggle, looking up at Logan, who’s guiding you towards the edge of the boardwalk. “Thank you,” you say softly.

He shakes his head and looks out towards the water. “It was nothing,” he says, his arm still around your waist as you lean against the railing of the boardwalk. The sun is falling behind the horizon, stars rising in the sky. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he turns to face you. “Listen…” He starts, his jaw working as his grip on your waist falls away, his forearms bracing on the railing. Your shoulder presses against his, the tension between you palpable. “I’ve been thinking…” But he pauses again, his eyes searching yours. 

“We ready to head back to the house?” Scott asks, interrupting the conversation. Logan’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he leans forward. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Logan mutters, thinking you can’t hear him, resting his head against the railing. 

Jubilee grabs your arm, holding up her little stuffed teddy bear. “Look what I won!” Her smile drops when she sees your giant fox. “Oh my god, my bear is nothing compared to that! That thing is massive!”

You smirk, glancing over at Logan. “Wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t for him.” Logan lifts his head and smiles sheepishly at you. 

The moon rises high in the quickly darkening sky. You’re not quite sure where the day went. Everything happened so quickly—the hours spent on the sand, Logan tugging you into the water. It was perfect. Beyond perfect. And now it was time to head back. 

The team treks down the boardwalk and onto the street, trailing a few blocks before arriving back at the house. You and Logan walk shoulder to shoulder the whole way there, leading at the front of the group. Logan grabs the key from his pocket, unlocks the door, and you all head inside. 

Jubilee and Kurt run into the kitchen scavenging for snacks. Gambit and Rogue crash onto the living room couch. 

“We’re gonna head to bed,” Scott says, Jean following him up the stairs. “Night, guys.” Everyone mutters soft goodnights in response, and a comfortable silence falls upon the house. 

“Gonna steal the upstairs shower before they get to it,” you whisper to Logan, nodding to Jubilee and Kurt. 

He smirks. “I’ll shower down here,” he says back. “See you upstairs?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer, suddenly remembering that you’re sharing not just a room with Logan, but a bed. You walk away and head upstairs, grabbing your pajamas from your duffle bag and making your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the water and undress. The shower is warm and relaxing, releasing the tension you had spent the entire day holding in. But the peace is temporary—your thoughts drift off to Logan. You imagine him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, waiting for you to join him. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you try to ignore the heat growing at the bottom of your belly. Maybe you should’ve taken a cold shower instead. 

You finish up in the shower, turning the water off and grabbing a towel. You reach for your pajamas, only to realize you forgot your bottoms and your bra. You step into your panties and shrug your oversized band t-shirt over your head. You push the bathroom door open just a crack, and seeing no one in the hallway, you make a break for it, tip-toeing to your room. You slip inside and shut the door. 

Logan coughs from behind you, and you whip around. “S-sorry,” he stutters, standing up from the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless, just like you imagined he’d be, wearing only a pair of boxers. His hair is still damp from his shower. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut him off. “No, no,” you assure. “It’s totally fine.” You’re worried you sound too eager, too focused on making sure he stays. You clear your throat nervously, stepping towards your duffle bag. You lean down, hoping your t-shirt is still covering your ass as you rifle through your belongings. You groan when you finally realize you forgot to pack pajama shorts. You stand up and make your way around to the left side of the bed.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks, following suit and walking to the right side of the bed. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I, um…” You trail off, motioning towards your duffle bag. “I forgot pajama bottoms,” you finally spit out. “If you’re uncomfortable or—”

“No,” Logan cuts you off this time. “I’m not uncomfortable at all.”

You smile, climbing into the bed and slipping under the covers, and Logan does the same. He rolls onto his side and turns off the lamp—the only light on in the room. The space is engulfed in darkness save for the pale light of the moon pushing through the curtains. 

You take a deep breath; you’re more nervous than you can comprehend. You could simply turn away from Logan, but you’re too anxious to move. Your stomach somersaults as his knee brushes against your thigh. You force your eyes shut, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Logan mumbles into the dark room, shuffling under the covers. “You okay?”

You swallow harshly, humming a soft mhm, too distracted to form a complete sentence. 

“I know you aren’t telling the truth, pretty girl,” Logan whispers, his hand finding your waist. “I can sleep on the couch, if you—”

“No,” you protest, the words escaping your lips almost uncontrollably. “It’s f-fine,” you stammer. “I’m fine.”

He chuckles darkly. “Then what’s got you so worked up, huh?” Oh. He knows. He has to know. You can hear it in his voice. 

“N-nothing,” you lie, your eyes fluttering open. Logan is closer to you now, his fingertips trailing down to your thighs, to the hem of your shirt. 

“Relax,” Logan husks, his hand slipping back up your body and settling on your waist. He tugs you closer to him. “This okay?” He asks, and you hum a quiet yes. You can feel the tension thickening, feel it readying to snap. He breaks the silence. “Thought about this all day, you know.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “Th-this?” You ask, your legs tangling with his. 

“Being alone with you,” Logan rasps. Your shirt hikes up as he pulls you into his chest. “Wanted to get you alone earlier,” he says, his hand sliding back down your body, playing with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingertips drag along your stomach. 

You curse under your breath, Logan’s forehead pressing against yours. “Logan,” you whisper, his name the only thing you can think of. You’re sure he can smell the arousal building between your thighs. 

“There’s no going back from this. You know that, don’t you?” He whispers, his breath hot against your lips. He’s so close, his thigh pushing between your legs, bumping against your core. 

“Yes,” you sigh. “Don’t wanna go back.” 

Your eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by how close Logan is to you. “Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea how much I need you.” 

His lips crash against yours, his thigh dragging along your core. You moan into his mouth, his tongue swiping across your lower lip. You part your lips, inviting him inside, his tongue tasting yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, involuntarily bucking your hips, grinding down on his thigh. “N-need you too.”

“I know, beautiful,” he soothes, gripping your waist, rolling you onto your back, pushing you into the mattress. “Fucking thought about you all day, always thinking about you.” He slides your shirt up above your tits, drinking you in with his eyes. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl.” He hovers over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand explores your body.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he palms your left breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then doing the same to the other side. It’s dizzying having him this close. You can smell his body wash—notes of musk and pine and a hint of leather on his skin. 

“Please,” you beg, not quite sure what you’re even begging for. All you know is how badly you want him—need him. 

Logan buries his face into the crook of your neck as his thumb rolls over your nipple, biting down on your pulse point and sucking the sensitive skin between his lips. “Please what, darlin’?” He mumbles, continuing his assault on your neck. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper, your hips rocking against Logan’s. “W-want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? That what you want?” Logan teases, his hand pushing between your legs, his fingertips finding your clit through your panties. “What if I wanted to taste you first?”

“W-whatever you want,” you moan, grinding down onto his hand. “I’m yours.”

He lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead to yours. “Whatever I want?” His voice is thick, cocky, almost mocking. “You’re mine,” he husks, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck. “All fucking mine.” He crawls down your body, trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your panties. 

Your hips lift off the mattress as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor. He nestles between your thighs, his breath hot against your cunt. You tremble in anticipation, watching as he breathes you in, his jaw working. You can see in his eyes that he’s holding himself back. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice suddenly soft, his cockiness replaced by genuine care. "Not gonna be able to stop once I start.” But you know he doesn’t just mean in the moment, right now—he means forever. 

“I’m sure, Lo,” you whine. It comes out like a prayer, like a desperate cry, a guilty plea. 

And then he buries his face into your heat, his tongue swiping through your folds. He grunts against you, flicking your clit before stroking his tongue through your folds again. “Fuck,” Logan groans, his face pressing harder into you, his tongue exploring your cunt. “Tastes better than I ever imagined,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his voice pulsing against your core. “So fucking sweet.”

Your hips jolt away from him as his tongue laps at your sensitive clit. His palms quickly slide under your legs, wrapping around your thighs, yanking you back to his face, and holding you down onto the mattress. “Don’t move, princess,” he chides, his nails digging into your flesh. “Wanna eat this pretty pussy.” 

“L-Lo,” you stutter as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles around your clit. You’re already close, his teasing words enough to push you over the edge. But you know he’s nowhere near done—he’s only getting started. 

His right hand loosens its grip around your thigh, his nails dragging down the curve of your ass and towards your folds. His fingertips prod your slit, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” he praises, his lips wrapping around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud lightly as he sucks. “Want my fingers?” He asks, knowing your answer, but wanting to hear you beg for him. 

“Yes, Logan, please. Need—” 

He’s thrusting two long, thick fingers deep inside you before you can finish your sentence. “Fuck,” he whispers, pulling out and pumping back in—down to his knuckles. He stills inside you, letting you adjust to him. “So goddamn tight.” His tongue laps at your clit. “Gonna have to work you open for me, hm?” He mutters, thrusting in and out now. 

You’re so overwhelmed, your swollen clit already overstimulated. He wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking harder this time, his fingers unrelenting as they plunge deeper with every pump. His tongue draws long, hard strokes around your bud, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

It feels like a wildfire is spreading through your veins, a current dragging you under and holding you down. Warmth blossoms in your belly. “Doing so good for me, beautiful,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you. Your walls flutter around him at his words, sucking him in deeper. “Know you’re close, pretty girl.”

“Logan,” you moan, his tongue drawing those tight circles around your clit again. He’s adding more pressure, his fingers dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you, splitting you in two. “Please, need to come…” You trail off, your back arching off the mattress, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“Come for me,” Logan demands, his voice dark and filled with lust. “Wanna know what it tastes like.” His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers rocking in and out of your entrance. “Wanna see that pretty face when you let go.” 

And then the tension breaks, white-hot heat pouring freely from the bottom of your belly. Your vision goes blurry as Logan laps at your clit, his fingers still pumping in and out, working you through your high. You moan his name, pleasure ripping through your body in intense waves. 

His pumps relax, his fingers stilling inside you before he finally pulls out. His face is still buried against your cunt, licking long stripes through your folds. He’s savoring the taste of your release, drinking every last drop you have to give. “Can’t get enough of you,” he husks. “Could do this forever.” 

He licks one last long stripe through your folds before lifting his face from your cunt. He’s a mess—your release glistening on his chin, his hair disheveled, his boxers all wrinkled. Your heart beats in your chest at the sight. All this, just for you. 

Logan crawls up your body, hovering over you again, lowering down onto his forearm. “Wanna fuck you, beautiful,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. “Wanna know what you feel like.” His hand slips between your legs, his fingertips finding your swollen clit and giving it a gentle pinch. Your hips buck against him at the sudden sensation. 

“Wanna feel you too,” you whimper, your arms wrapping around his back. “Want you inside me, please.” 

And then he’s tugging his boxers down his legs, his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh. You can’t see—but you can feel just how massive he is. His tip slides through your folds, spreading your arousal. 

“You know how bad I need you?” Logan whispers, his lips finding yours. He bites your lower lip and kisses away the pain. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” And then he sinks himself inside you, down to the hilt with one smooth, fluid thrust. “Thought about this every day since I met you.” 

Your muscles release and contract at his words. His hips stall, letting you adjust to the size of him. You feel indescribably full. He’s splitting you open, stretching you out, claiming you as his. His hips pull back, his cock sliding out, and he plunges back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Th-thought about you too,” you stutter, already too fucked out to form a coherent thought. “Always wanted you.” Logan sets a reckless pace as his fingertips find your clit again, working long, languid strokes into the bud, teasing you, leading you on. 

“You feel so perfect,” Logan praises, rocking into you, his cock dragging along your walls. “So fucking warm, so tight. Made for me.” His lips are on yours again, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, swallowing your moans. “Never gonna want anybody else, pretty girl.”

His hips snap against yours, his fingers circling your clit faster now. “Just want you, Lo,” you choke, the tension building at the bottom of your belly, a fire burning through your bones. “Only want you.”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice suddenly soft, contrasting with the way he pounds into you recklessly, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his cock. “It’s you, just you.” You can hear the emotion in his voice, the sincerity, the desperation, the aching longing. 

Your chest heaves against his. He’s fucking you to get closer to you, to be as deep inside you as possible. This isn’t just sex—this isn’t just some tension that needs to be broken. It’s an invisible string keeping the two of you tied closely together. Maybe it was stitched by the Fates centuries ago, laid out carefully, a plan to be executed. Maybe everything that led you to this moment was always meant to be. Because here you are now, his lips soft and hungry against yours, his words tearing through your resolve, his cock buried deep inside you, searching for a way to get deeper. And all you can think is…

This is it. This is what people mean when they talk about love—that word that changes its meaning every time you say it. The word with a definition that always escapes you. You know what it means now. 

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, that fire in your belly spreading through your body as he rams into you, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing along the walls of the tiny room. His fingers press harder into your clit, pinching softly, and then circling again. 

His cock twitches inside you. “Me too, beautiful,” he hums, his pace growing sloppier, his cock throbbing again. “You’re so perfect,” he praises. “Love you so much, pretty girl.”

And then the tension snaps, electricity buzzing through your nerve endings, fire prickling your skin as you melt into him. “Love you too, Lo.” Your muscles contract and release, squeezing around him, coming undone. 

Your walls clench around him again, and you know it’ll be the thing that pushes him over the edge. “Fuck, wanna come inside you,” he pants.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Please,” you beg, and with one more thrust he’s painting your walls, filling you up and letting go. 

You share one breath, panting, foreheads pressed together as Logan’s pumps slow, his cock stalling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his arms reaching under your back as he carefully pulls out. You feel empty without him inside you. 

“Y-you can stay inside, if you want,” you offer as Logan rolls you onto your side, pulling you into his chest. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his lips pressing to your nose now. 

“Yes,” you whisper. He swallows harshly as one of his hands slides down your body, hiking your leg up and over his hip. He lines his half-hard cock up with your entrance, his lips finding yours as he slides back in. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of being full of him again. 

He groans as he bottoms out. “So fucking good,” he praises, his arms wrapping around your back again, tugging you into his chest. 

You lay in comfortable silence, listening as Logan’s breathing becomes rhythmic. Your eyes grow heavy, and you bury your face into Logan’s chest. You can hear his heart beating.

“Love you,” he mumbles against the crown of your head. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice, the exhaustion. 

“Love you too,” you whisper, your breathing matching his, like you’re no longer two separate people, but one.

He presses a kiss to your head. “So lucky I met you,” he huffs. You smile against him. “So lucky I finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He smiles down at you. “What love is supposed to feel like...” He trails off, and you watch as he chooses his next words. “What living is supposed to feel like.” 

You can feel tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away. “Me too, Lo,” you whisper, pausing…

“Me too.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @fanfic-writing-barbie @pedrohoe04 @cosmiccandydreamer @movhoney @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @maniuplatour *as always, I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you*