#I KNOW WHAT THE TEAMS GONNA BE NAMED I READ THE BOOK
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not-neverland06 ¡ 6 months ago
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you're not her
The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader
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a/n: really wanted to write for the worst logan so I found a streaming site so I could finally watch the new Deadpool movie (yay pirating) (this is totally hypothetical and a joke to the feds lurking) I was going to just read the wiki plot but I don’t think that was going to cut it Again, using the same superhero name/powers. It’s not an OC I swear, it just makes sense in comic book movies to have some alternate name and I’m not creative enough to come up with multiple different supe names. Summary: You hate him, you really fucking hate him at first. He’s cruel and constantly reminds you that you’ll never be the hero he knew. You’re not her and he’s made that abundantly clear. But what are you supposed to do when he’s suddenly your new roommate and you have no choice but to wake up to his face every day? I feel sad because I don’t think I did the angst justice with this one. But if I keep staring at it trying to fix it, then I’m never going to post it. (This is a long one guys) Angst with a happy ending (because I’m a little bitch) Makeout scenes and smut towards the very end 18+ MDNI
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You don’t know how you got here, but you know you’re mad at whoever dragged you into this shit. You don’t think it would be wild to assume it was Wade’s fault. Usually, when something goes wrong in your life it’s on him. 
What you do know; you look like shit. Wade and Wolverine are both standing over you in their awesome ass uniforms and you’re still in your fucking pajamas. How are you supposed to be badass and save the world in pants that have Spiderman’s face plastered all over them?
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Wade,” you growl at him. 
He places his hand daintily on his chest and waves you off, “Save that for the bedroom, pookie.”
You grit your teeth and glare up at him, Wolverine gives him a similarly disgusted look. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you grumble under your breath. You get to your feet and brush yourself off, finally looking around and taking in wherever the fuck he’s dragged you. “Where are we?”
“The void,” Wade responds, voice ridiculously dramatic. You look around and throw your hands up in defeat. 
“What the fuck, Wade? Why did you drag me with you into this?” You look over at the Wolverine beside him. He hasn’t stopped glaring at you both and his claws are out, clearly ready to just eviscerate you. “Who the fuck is this?”
“Okay, wow, language, Flux. I’m disappointed in you.”
“Eat me-”
You’re cut off by the knock-off Wolverine standing a few feet behind you both. “Flux?” He demands, voice so low you almost can’t hear him. Both you and Wade’s heads whip around to face him. Thus far he’s been relatively silent, you nearly started to wonder if he was mute. 
“It’s her X-Man name,” Wade tells him, gushing like it’s some big deal. “Impressive, huh?” You don’t bother correcting him that it was your X-Men name. Can’t exactly call yourself that if they booted you off the team for being a crappy superhero. 
Logan snorts and shakes his head. He stalks towards you and you nearly fall over in your attempt to scramble back from him. “You,” he demands, claws pointed at you threateningly. “You’re Flux?”
Wade hisses, watching as Logan swipes out at you. “Alright, peanut, let’s put the claws away and take a deep grounding breath.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps at Wade. He turns to glare at him and you take the opportunity to scramble behind your friend for protection. At least if he gets stabbed, he’ll heal. “You,” he scoffs and it trails off into a laugh. There’s no humor behind it, he's just a dick. “You are a fucking joke compared to my Flux.”
The ground underneath you rattles, pebbles bouncing off the cracked desert and ricocheting off their boots. Wade quickly moves away from you, shoving you forward so he’s not in the line of fire. “Yeah, well you’re just an alcoholic fuck who could never hold a candle to my Logan.” 
You can feel energy brewing at the tips of your fingers, waves, and waves of hate building up within you. The man across from you feels the shift, the static suddenly permeating the air around you both. You let your power build and build…
The pebbles drop back to the ground and you stumble back from Logan, nose bleeding from overextending yourself. “Shit,” you mutter, wiping at your face with the back of your hand and shaking your head. 
Logan laughs again, it echoes through the stormy sky and you wish you had any control over your powers so you could just send him flying. Or, better yet, turn his bones into liquid and flip him inside out. “Oh,” he lets out a long exhale, glaring at both of you. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous.” The faux smile drops from his face and he raises his voice just loud enough to make you jump, “Just one big fuckin’ joke!”
You have about five seconds to dive to the side before Logan is lunging at Wade. “Wait, wait, wait we can talk about this!” Wade shouts, but it’s too late, he’s already on the ground getting his head caved in. 
You let out a rough sigh, stumbling off to the side. You’re drained from that shitshow of powers. You barely made a few rocks levitate and you feel like you’re going to pass out. You walk away from the two men and throw yourself on the ground, trying to reorient yourself while they fight like wild animals. 
You can hear them in the background, stabbing and shooting like they’re aiming to kill. Too bad neither of them can die. It’d save you a hell of a headache.  They run past you, Logan’s got his claws buried in Wade’s gut while Wade’s desperately firing off his gun into Logan’s chest. 
Your head rolls weakly to the side and you mutter out a pathetic, “No, stop. Don’t kill each other.” As expected, neither of them listens to you. They keep fighting, showing no signs of stopping. 
There’s a moment of silence after about ten minutes of nothing but grunts and insults. You peak your head up in interest. Logan got his claws posed over Wade’s throat. You wonder if decapitation would actually kill him or if he’d somehow manage to survive that. 
Wade doesn’t seem interested in testing out the theory, “They can fix it!” Wade shouts, “They can fix your timeline. I just need your help saving mine.”
Your eyes widen and you meet Wade’s masked gaze over Logan’s shoulders. The white slits widen and he minutely shakes his head, telling you not to say anything. Like, maybe, that neither of you has any fucking clue if the TVA is capable of even fixing timelines like that. 
You know Wade is desperate when he makes that promise. It’s the only reason he would say something so stupid. It’s a blatant lie, one pulled so far out of Wade’s ass you’re genuinely surprised that Logan can’t smell the bullshit. Whatever happened in his universe must have been horrible for him to ever believe anything that comes out of any Deadpool’s mouth. 
It’s a long moment before Logan finally pulls his claws out of Wade. Your friend slumps forward in relief as Logan stalks away from him. You glare at Wade from where you are on the ground, “That was fucking stupid,” you snipe at him. He gets to his feet, walks over to you, and forcefully yanks you to your feet. 
“Not a goddamn word,” he warns, but you aren’t exactly threatened by him when he's got three holes in his head from Logan’s claws. Still, you hold your hands up and acquiesce, following after him as he chases down Logan. 
Your mind is still fuzzy when you are captured by Cassandra. You're recovering from overextending yourself, eyes blurring and limbs going limp like jello when her army of henchmen circle you all. 
You finally feel yourself starting to come back to your body when you wake up tied to Johnny. “And,” Wade draws the word out, waiting until you lift your head to finish, “there she is! Happy you could join us, princess. Mind turning these ropes into dust for me?”
You groan and let your head slump onto Johnny’s shoulder. He smirks and glances down at you. “Oh fuck off, both of you. I can’t do shit right now and you know it, Wade, I’m drained.” 
Logan is glaring at you, but there’s less hate in his glare and more confusion now. “Can you do anything?”
You narrow your eyes at him, lips screwed up while you try to decide if he’s being an asshole or genuine. “Hard of hearing or something old man? I’m drained,” you reiterate, your tone a little too bitchy. 
Logan narrows his eyes, grunting something foul under his breath. Wade interferes before you can piss each other off anymore. “She had an accident, her brain’s a little broken now. But it’s fine! Whose isn’t?”
You huff and throw yourself back against the cage you’re all being transported in. You feel eyes on the side of your head and slowly look over to see Johnny grinning at you. “Hey, you know I’ve met one of your variants-”
“Don’t give a fuck,” you interrupt. You hear Wade snicker under his mask, giving you an encouraging thumbs up even with his hands bound. You were both a little disappointed it wasn’t Captain America lurking under that cloak. But at least this guy isn’t such a prude he won’t cuss. 
For the next five minutes, you’re on the receiving end of a very enthusiastically vulgar rant about just what a cunt Cassandra Nova is. He’s still not even finished by the time you reach the gates to her lair.
Your eyes widen when you see all the people lurking around the walls. Most of them you recognize as people you’ve put away or killed in your world. But there’s something just minutely different about them than the version you faced in your timeline. Their eye color or outfit is always just slightly off. 
The familiar faces are almost a relief. But there is nothing comforting about knowing you're outnumbered two hundred to four. The cage is tipped over and you go rolling out, you grunt as Johnny’s elbow digs into your ribs. 
Before you can even attempt to shove him off, the ropes are whipped off of you and you’re dragged by an invisible force across the ground. Rocks and sand scrape across your tender skin and bury themselves deep in your pores. You hiss in pain when you finally come to a stop and your body is your own again. 
A groan slips through your parted lips unbidden as you struggle onto your knees. Your pajamas are ripped practically everywhere and you feel like you might as well be naked at this point. You really wished that you at least had a chance to change before you were kidnapped to another universe. 
The woman you presume to be Cassandra Nova is currently fucking Wade’s skull with her freakish telepathy fingers. Johnny’s a pile of guts and bones on the floor and you have no fucking clue where she flung Logan to. 
You get to your feet, shaking your head and reorienting yourself. In a second she’s in front of you, head tilted to the side while she regards you curiously. “Woah,” you jump back, glaring at her outstretched hand. 
“Careful,” Wade warns her breathlessly, still clutching his head. “Flux here has a pathological fear of bald people.”
You nod, “It’s true, you can imagine how strained my relationship with your brother was.” Cassandra circles you, a devious tilt to her lips. Your eyes track her, unwilling to take your gaze off her for even a second. You feel like a rabbit, facing down a fox that’s made its way into your burrow. 
“Curious,” she mutters. “I’ve seen quite a few of you down here before. But,” she chuckles and before you can move her hand is shoving its way into your brain. You scream, there’s an agonizing burn as her fingers probe under your eyes and dig through the deepest part of your subconscious. It feels like someone’s taking a shovel and ripping up your worst traumas. “None of them have been so weak.”
Wonderful, even she wants to insult you. You can feel the way she’s plucking through your thoughts, tossing aside the ones she doesn’t like. Images of your childhood are flashing across your vision. You can no longer see the world around you, it’s like every one of your worst memories is being played on a projector. 
“Ah,” she clicks her tongue and jerks your neck around until you’re looking at something you’ve tried to forget for years. “Here it is. How easy it would be for me to simply unblock those powers of yours.” She smiles, her face appearing before you and blocking out the bloodshed. “It would make this far more entertaining for me, what do you say?”
Your teeth are clenched so tightly you’re surprised they haven’t cracked yet. It’s hard to get the words out when her fingers are still dancing through your skull. “Fuck you,” you finally spit out. She releases you suddenly, and you surge forward with a gasp, clutching at your skull desperately. 
You half expect your brains to begin leaking from your nose and eyes. But nothing happens, despite feeling incredibly violated, everything is still in its proper place. Cassandra walks past you like everything is fine and dandy in the world. “Well, as much as I would love to see those powers of yours in action again, Flux, I’m afraid Alioth must eat.”
Before you can ask what she's talking about there’s a loud rumble. Like thunder cracking through the sky and land, the ground underneath you shakes. Cracks form under your feet and the henchmen around you all start desperately racing for cover. 
You turn around, staring wide-eyed at the purple cloud of death and destruction steadily moving across the sky. A face breaks through the clouds, grinning down at you. Purple lightning hits the ground and the villain next to you explodes into nothing but dust. 
“Shit!” You shout, turning around and running to try and avoid getting zapped up next. There’s no coming back from this one. Once this monster gets you, not even god could save you. 
Suddenly, an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you off your feet. “No time for consent, we’ve got to get the fuck outta here!” Wade shouts in your ear. Logan is standing next to some robot leg, ripping out cords until a jet on the back fires up. Wade leaps onto the boot, wrapping an arm around Logan’s legs as you’re all shot into the sky. 
You’d scream if you weren’t trying not to throw up. You hurtle through the sky at speeds that have your skin nearly ripping off your skull. The rocket on the back of the leg starts to sputter out. The flames flickering out and then back to life. It steadily begins to drop until you’re plummeting headfirst towards the ground. 
Wade wraps himself around you, tossing himself off the boot so he can brace your fall. You hear and feel nearly all of his bones break under your weight. For a moment it feels like you’re laying on warm jello as you try and catch your breath. 
“Nailed it,” he mutters weakly. You’re pretty sure he can’t breathe, a rib having pierced his lung in the fall. A shadow looms over you and you glance up to find Logan glaring down at you. You stare at him apprehensively, half expecting him to unsheathe his claws and just end you right here. 
Instead, to your surprise, he holds a hand out. You look at it with suspicion, glaring back up at him. “Fucks sake,” he mutters. He reaches down, roughly grabbing your hand and jerking you to your feet. You feel the warmth of Wade’s blood on your back and grimace. 
“Thanks,” you mutter, still not entirely trusting of him. 
He purses his lips into a thin line, backing awkwardly away from you. He just nods and starts surveying the land around you. It feels less like trying to figure out where you all landed and more like awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 
The whole interaction leaves you feeling odd. “Well, that was as awkward as two virgins on prom night,” Wade loudly announces as he jumps to his feet. You whip around and send him a dirty look but his attention has already been snagged by something else. Lately, you’ve been considering grounding up Adderall and slipping it into his breakfast, you think it might do him some good. 
What’s got to be the fugliest dog you’ve ever seen in your life bounds towards Wade. He drops to his knees, ripping off his mask and opening his arms wide to the mutt. You grimace, taking a step back when she starts licking his face. “Oh, that’s just wrong.”
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Thankfully dogless, you steal Nicepool’s Honda Odyssey - much to Wade’s chagrin. Logan’s in the front seat, Wade beside him. You’re sitting in the back, rubbing your temples and trying to get rid of the raging migraine you’ve had since Cassandra finger blasted your brain. 
You’ve been zoning in and out of the conversation happening in the front seat of the car. But Logan suddenly slams on the brakes and you go hurtling forward. Without even looking at you, both their arms shoot out, blocking you from flying through the windshield. 
Your face scrunches up as you look at both their arms, it feels like being saved by an overbearing soccer mom. “Buckle up, princess,” Wade tells you. He shoves you back into your seat and you look between the two men suspiciously. 
“Did you just say if?” Logan growls, glaring at Wade. Your face drops, finally realizing what you’d missed. 
Wade lets out a weak chuckle, “Slip of the tongue?” Logan growls and the claws come out. Wade raises his hands, “Okay, let’s put a brake on the crazy train. I wasn’t lying it was just an educated,” for the first time in your friendship Wade is actually speechless. You’re shocked by the silence. Until, of course, he runs his mouth again and comes up with the lamest cop-out you’ve ever heard. “It was an educated wish that they could fix your timeline, alright?”
Logan doesn’t give much of a warning except a low growl before he shoves his claws deep into Wade’s thigh. “You motherfucker!”
“Hey!” You shout, jumping forward and ripping Logan’s claws out of Wade’s leg. “Look, we’re trying to save our whole fucking universe. Can you blame him for lying?” You regret opening your mouth pretty much immediately. 
You should have just stayed out of this, it wasn’t any of your business. And if they wanted to be two dumbasses and fucking tear each other apart then so be it. But you never should have drawn attention to yourself. 
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan shouts at you. It’s so startling, coming from him. You’re still associating him with the man you’d looked up to growing up. Your Wolverine was a hero. He was the reason you wanted to be an X-Man. And they look exactly the same, it’s nearly impossible for you to separate this one from the one you knew. 
But it's easier now. Because the man you’d known would never be so cruel and jaded to the world. Not like this. “Why the fuck are you even here? You’re just some watered-down knockoff of a real hero. You are nothing, you’re worth nothing. It’s a fucking joke that you’re alive and the woman I knew is buried six feet deep. If there was anything right in the world you would be in a grave somewhere crawling with maggots.”
Your eyes water without your permission. You don’t know this man. Yet, he has the face of your greatest hero and the man who you’d grown up hearing stories about. It’s like facing everything you’ve ever wanted to be and having it shout your deepest fears and insecurities back at you. He’s just confirming something you’ve known for years. You never deserved the title of being an X-Man. You never deserved the uniform or anything that came with it. 
Your breaths are coming short and fast, it feels like your lungs are constricting. You worry you won’t be able to get air in but he doesn’t care. No, he keeps going. “You follow this fucking clown around and you contribute nothing to the world. You’re never gonna save your fucking timeline. You can’t even make a few rocks float.” It’s not the words that hurt you next. It’s the way he says it. “You’re pathetic.”
He spits them at you. There’s venom lacing his tone like he’s seen into you and knows there’s nothing in you to offer. For the first time in a long time, you feel seen and you hate it. Because he’s looking past the sarcasm and the faux confidence you carry yourself with. 
He sees the empty husk of a woman you truly are and he’s forcing you to face it with him. It causes you physical pain, to know that everything you’ve ever feared about yourself is true. You don’t have anything to say to him, you can’t. 
Your lips tremble and you feel so fucking small. You can hear your parent's voices in your head, screaming at you and wishing you were never born. They’d rather have a stillborn than a fucked up mutant for a daughter. You see the way even other kids at the school would hide from you. You were made wrong, even as a mutant you were never truly accepted. 
Logan’s face drops ever so slightly at the prolonged silence in the car. Even Wade isn’t speaking, he’s just staring at you both. “I,” he starts, but Wade cuts him off. 
“I’m gonna hurt you now.” Wade’s never been one to let people run over you, even when you might just let yourself fall into the background. You shouldn’t be surprised when he draws a knife and stabs it into Logan’s throat. 
But the arterial spray that follows catches you off guard and suddenly your tears are dried. Instead, you’re throwing open the car door and diving out before one of them crushes you. You make it out of the car just in time, Logan having thrown Wade right where you had been sitting. 
Music starts up in the car as a result of their fighting. Divorced dad rock and the sounds of their, borderline, sexual grunting are your soundtrack for the rest of the night. You curl up at the base of a tree, waiting for them to be done with each other. 
Logan’s words continue to echo through your head. And the longer you linger on what he said the angrier you get. Not necessarily at him, but at yourself. You’ve let yourself linger in self-pity and wallow in regret for so long. 
You look in the mirror and you no longer recognize yourself. He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re a fucking joke. You toss your head back, slamming it against the trunk of the tree hard enough for it to hurt. 
There’s this manic, cloying feeling tugging at your chest. It’s like someone’s sitting on your ribs, crushing you until you can’t breathe anymore. You keep throwing your head back, letting the pain distract you until you feel warm blood leaking down the back of your scalp. 
“Shit,” you hiss, hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull. You wince when you feel the split in your skin. The blood leaks over the tips of your fingers, running through the cracks of your palm. 
You force yourself to relax, to move your head away from the tree. As you go to stand up, possibly to get Wade and Logan to quit their fighting, you notice something odd. The air around you is still, you can no longer hear them grunting or groaning as they rock the Honda. 
Leaves are suspended in the air. They’re not trembling from the breeze, they’re completely frozen. You take a step forward and gasp when you hit something solid. The air in front of you has solidified somehow. 
The realization dawns on you slowly but surely. This is you, you’ve done this. Manipulated everything around you on an atomic level. You’ve turned something you shouldn’t be able to feel into something you can touch. Frozen the world around you. Whatever Cassandra had done inside your head, it had knocked something loose. 
You haven’t had this wide a range of control for years. Any attempt to do something like this has been met with nosebleeds and long periods of blacking out. Elation fills you, the hurt from earlier is nearly gone. 
You glance through the wall of air and try to see if you can still see the Odyssey. To your horror, it’s gone. You wave your hands and the air returns to normal. The leaves drift back to the forest floor and you run back to where you’d left the two men. 
There are tire tracks dug deep into the mud. You know Wade wouldn’t willingly leave you behind, not here. You don’t know if Logan’s just kidnapped him or if someone else has. Whoever was driving was clearly in a rush to get out of here. 
You must have missed it all while you were having your meltdown. “Fuck,” you shout, your voice echoing into the branches above. You take in a deep breath and start walking. Hopefully, you can catch up to them before whoever has them does serious damage. 
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You make it to a weird cave/hideout area. The Odyssey is parked outside and when you peek through the broken windows you find the interior completely destroyed. There’s blood soaking through every surface, anything and everything has been smashed and bent the wrong way. 
You don’t even know if this is from Wade and Logan or whoever had snatched them. Shaking your head you back up and slink towards the entrance of the den. You can hear shouting inside, it sounds like Wade, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. 
You haven’t seen action for a long time. At least not any that you could actually contribute to. It feels a bit like riding a bike. You’d practiced on your way here, making things around you float or eradicating a few trees into nothing but dust in the wind. But this is different. 
Your friend (and Logan) are inside, possibly being tortured. Maybe even dead. Though, you seriously doubt the universe is going to be that nice to you. You let the energy build in your arms, it’s like a warm tingling feeling. It shoots down to the palms of your hands until you feel static in the air. 
You take a step inside and spot three people. Each of them is decked out in weapons. One of them turns and spots you. “Who is-” 
You don’t let him finish, throwing your hands out and slamming them all into the wall so hard the whole interior shakes. Dirt rains down from the ceilings while their faces contort in pain. You run inside, spotting Logan and Wade. 
You shoot Wade a big grin but he throws his hands up and shouts, “Read the fucking room!” Your brows furrow and he points emphatically at the people you’re holding, “Good guys!”
“Oh shit,” you release them immediately, a guilty look on your face. “I am so sorry.” Logan cackles in the back, doubled over laughing while the three people in front of you brush themselves off. 
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You don’t want to be out here with him, but it’s better than being in that cave with the others. Laura walks past you, sending you an uneasy smile. You’d noticed her sitting beside Logan and decided they probably needed a few moments to themselves. 
They were finished now, though, and he had the only bottle of liquor left in the cave with him. You trudge over to him, leaves crunching under your boots. Elektra, after that horrific introduction, had given you a uniform a different Flux had left behind. 
She was long gone, killed by Cassandra years ago, but she’d conveniently been your exact size. The uniform is nearly identical to the one you have buried under your bed. Black leather with a dark purple X going across your chest and matching purple seams. You’d never wanted something ridiculously flashy. Just something that people would see and associate with the X-Men. 
Because that’s all you’d ever wanted to be; a hero. It feels like a pipe dream now. If your pajamas weren’t so destroyed you would have just stayed in them. You don’t feel like you deserve this uniform, not when the woman who’d worn it before you had actually been a hero in her timeline. 
“Don’t want company,” Logan snarks, without even looking back to see who’s coming up to him.
You take a seat on the lawn chair closest to him and snatch the bottle of whiskey from his hands. “Good,” you tilt your head back, downing as much as possible. It burns the whole way and you revel in the slight tickle in the back of your throat. 
“Alright,” Logan mutters. He gently takes the bottle back from you, giving you an aggrieved look when he sees just how much you’ve stolen. He looks back into the fire and sighs, “Look, I’m not interested in hearing about your sob story or why you’re suddenly drinking all my liquor-”
“Gambit’s liquor,” you interrupt, not bothering to look at him. “And I’m not looking to dump my sob story on your lap. I just want to sit in silence and that’s impossible because Wade hasn’t stopped running his mouth since we got here.”
He looks a little surprised by the brusque way you dismiss him, “Alright,” he mutters. He takes another swig from the bottle and you both stare silently into the fire. It’s like that for a while, you don’t bother keeping track of time. 
All you hear is the crackling of the flames. All you can feel is the way your eyes burn from staring into the fire and watching sparks pop off the logs for too long. The breeze rustles the trees, makes the leaves shake free and dance around the logs of the fire. 
He breaks the silence first, to your chagrin. “About what I said,” he clears his throat uncomfortably, still refusing to look at you, “back in the car.”
“Don’t,” you snap, voice low. “Just,” you let out a long breath and shake your head. You finally look over and meet his eyes. He does actually look sorry, but you don’t want to hear it. “Just don’t, I deserved it all right.”
“No, no you didn’t.” You open your mouth to argue but he gives you a firm look that has your jaw snapping shut. “I was wrong, I don’t know you. And if my Flux had ever heard me talking to you like that she would have melted my fucking spine.” He laughs a little and you feel your lips twitch up slightly. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look anything but angry. 
Curiosity loosens your tongue and knocks you out of the dazed stupor you’ve been in. “What was she like?” You ask, tone earnest. “Your Flux, I mean, you make her sound so amazing. I just can’t,” you trail off, but the look on his face tells you he understands your unspoken words. I just can’t see myself as a real hero. 
He groans and leans back on the log he’s resting on. He stretches his legs out in front of him, the liquor bottle placed on the forest floor. You’re surprised, you figured the thing was glued to his hand. 
“Well,” he reaches up and scratches at the scruff of his chin, a wry grin on his face. “She was always giving me shit, never let me get away with anything.” You unconsciously lean forward, drawn into the endearing way he begins to describe this other version of you. 
It’s not ridiculous to assume this variant meant something to him. He’s got a shine to his eye that you haven’t seen in the whole time you’ve been together. His gaze has been empty, closed off to anything and everything. But now, his eyes are crinkling at the corners, there’s an easy smile on his face that you can’t miss. 
“Ah, she was fucking feisty. And strong, she was so strong. She was always a better hero than I was. She lived for that shit,” he trails off and shakes his head. You can see you’re losing him and you don’t want this to end. You’re in your own little bubble right now, getting to pretend there’s a version of you out there somewhere that actually lived up to her potential. 
“Her powers,” you blurt out, desperate for something to stop him from retreating back into his mind. “Did she have, um, good control over them?”
Logan nods, eyes darting down to the bottle of whiskey before flickering back up to meet your gaze again. “Yeah, Charles trained her, she was right up there with Jean. She could have,” he stops and suddenly you feel guilty for making him talk about this. You can see the tears in the corner of his eyes, the way the whites of them go red. “She could have been great.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t mean to pry.” But you did. You were being selfish and forcing him to talk about it even though you knew it would hurt him. 
“Look, kid, she would have liked you. I’ll tell you that much,” he says reluctantly. Like the words hurt to force out. You suppose he isn’t used to being genuine with anyone. 
You shake your head and look down at your hands. “I appreciate the thought, but I doubt it.”
Logan grabs the bottle again, gulping it down like it's water. His words have a slight slur to them as he speaks again. “I think I would know, bub. ‘Sides, you made it into the X-Men, tells me what I need to know.”
You scoff and fix him with a sardonic look, he raises his brows in question and you roll your eyes. “They’ll take fucking anybody. And I still wasn’t good enough for them.”
Logan shakes his head and frowns. “If what I saw in there,” he points back to the den and you feel your cheeks warm as you remember what you’d done, “is any indication, then I’m sure you were plenty good.”
You lean towards him, elbows braced on your knees. He follows suit, leaning so close you almost want to back up. The proximity flusters you slightly but you shake the feeling off. “You don’t even know me and the first real thing you said to me was that I’d be more useful as fertilizer.”
He sighs, face screwing up at your harsh words. He runs a hand over his cheeks and groans, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
You lean back in your chair and idly twirl your hand through the air. The leaves around you lift up and flutter through the air above your head. Logan watches and you turn back to him, waiting until his eyes meet yours to speak again. “Yes, you did. And you were right. I’m fucking useless, powers or not.” The leaves drop, a few fluttering into the fire. “We’re irrelevant, Wolverine, two washed-up X-Men who never looked good in the uniform.”
There’s a twinge of hurt on his face but you can’t make yourself feel bad about it. Since he’s such a fan of brutal truth, you’re sure he can handle it. 
You watch as the leaves curl up at the corners, the fire burning them straight through the middle. You get to your feet and move past him. You’re nearly back to the den when he calls, “The suit looks right on you,” over his shoulder.
You pause at the threshold of the door. He’s already drinking again, staring into the fire and watching it burn. You take a few steps towards him, staring at his broad back. “What happened to her, your me?”
Logan looks down at his hands, his ring finger specifically. You wonder at the significance of the movement, what exactly you’d meant to him. “She married me,” he mutters, voice cold and closed off again. 
“Goodnight, Logan,” you whisper, finally walking inside the den. 
You miss the small goodnight he sends back to you, finally turning around only to watch you leave. 
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There had been a very clear plan set in place. Get Juggernaut’s helmet, put it on Cassandra, and then kill that psychotic bitch. Which is why you’re so confused when you’re standing knee-deep in guts and watching Logan and Wade leap through a portal above you. 
You don’t have time to feel angry or even hurt that they left without you. Laura is grabbing your arm and you’re both running for your life, trying to escape Alioth again. You run into Cassandra’s lair ducking into one of the rooms and dragging Laura with you. 
You’re both holding your breaths and praying that he’s sated by the others still outside. After a few minutes, the cracks of thunder stop and you risk peeking your head outside. The clouds have retreated back to their usual spot in the middle of the void. 
You take in the carnage of Cassandra’s evil lair. Most everybody is dead. You only have to skirt around a few people to get back to the Odyssey. 
You throw yourself in the driver’s seat and sink back against the bloodstained cushions. You let out a relieved breath and look at Laura, “What do you do to entertain yourself around here?”
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You acclimated to the idea of being stuck in the void pretty quickly. There wasn’t exactly a lot waiting for you back home. Besides, Laura was nice enough. You had food, beer, and company. You didn’t really need much else. 
You’re pretty sure if you linger too long on the thought that Wade left you behind you’ll fall into a depression that you’re never going to be able to claw your way out of. So, you forced a smile on your face and played cards. Nothing else to do but wait to die of old age or for Alioth to kill you. 
Of course, your plans had to be ruined. There was an odd rush of air against your back and then a slight whoosh. Laura glanced over your shoulders and her brows furrowed, you turned around to find three armored men waiting behind you. 
“Flux,” the man glanced from you to Laura, “X-23?”
“Laura,” you both correct at the same time. 
The man gives an aggrieved sigh and holds his arm out, “Come with me, please.”
You stand up, energy tingling in the palms of your hands while you regard them suspiciously. Laura comes up behind you, claws out and glaring at them. “Why should we?” You demand. 
Barely a second later you hear the most insufferable voice in the world. “Hiya, peanut!” 
“Wade,” you hiss. You follow the armored men through an oddly shaped portal and find Wade standing beside a shirtless Logan, smiling proudly at you. “You fucking left me,” you hold up your hands and his eyes widen. 
His hands quickly come up, trying to assuage you, “Hold on now-”
You throw him back, his body hurtling into a nearby building and caving in the wall. Logan watches it happen with a small smile, “Been wanting to do that for a while.” 
Once Wade had recovered he filled you in on everything that happened. TVA did a general clean up and then you were standing in front of your apartment door, keys in hand like nothing had happened. 
It was so bizarre, going from a mission to save your timeline and then you’re expected to just go about your life. You stay standing in that hallway for you don’t know how long before you hear someone behind you. 
You jump and drop your keys when Logan clears his throat. “Shit,” you hiss, whirling around and glaring at him while your heart races. He chuckles and bends over to grab your keys for you. 
“Sorry,” he mutters. This is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him, covered in blood and in a borrowed shirt. “Uh, Wade doesn’t have enough room at his place. Told me I should come over here.”
You look over his shoulder and see Wade peeking his head out of his doorway. He catches your eye, sending you a thumbs up. You almost smile but then he makes a phallic gesture with his hands, pointing at Logan and humping the air. You glare at him and he quickly backs into his apartment, but not before sending you one last encouraging shit-eating grin. 
You look back at Logan and he’s waiting expectantly for your answer. “Yeah,” you take your keys from him and unlock the door. “I’ve got a spare room but there’s no bed in it right now.” Your eyes widen when you see the mess that is your apartment. 
You quickly rush through, picking up empty take-out boxes and dirty laundry and shoving them into your room. He’s smiling at you when you come back and it's slightly off-putting. “Um,” you gesture towards the couch awkwardly. “You can take the sofa tonight and we’ll look at setting you up with something more permanent tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” he hovers by the armrest and you engage in the longest stare-off of your life. Neither of you says anything for a few suffocating moments before he gestures at himself. “Shower?”
“Oh,” you snap out of your stupor and nod your head. “Yeah, right, of course.” You show him down the hall, “Here. I’ll go get you a towel.”
You rush towards your linen closet, leaving him behind in your bathroom. You grab a few clean towels and then figure he might want some clothes as well. You grab some pajamas that Wade’s left over when he’s crashed before. They’ll probably be a bit tighter on Logan, but you wouldn’t mind seeing that. 
You walk back to the bathroom and the thought of knocking doesn’t even run through your head. It should, honestly, but you’re already so thrown off by him even being here. You walk in and immediately gasp and drop the towels. 
“Oh, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s standing naked before you. Clothes discarded on the floor behind him. Everything on perfect display. Your eyes land on his abs, noticing a few prominent veins leading down-
You cover your face and turn around. “Sorry,” you mutter again. God, you’re such an idiot. You still haven’t even left. You’d just been shamelessly ogling the man naked and you don’t even have the decency to walk out. 
You really can’t help it though. It’s been such a clusterfuck, the last 72 hours. Your brain is fried and Wade’s little show hasn’t helped you at all.  
You hear Logan laugh behind you. “It’s alright,” he mutters. Something warm ghosts across your arm and you jump slightly. His hand firmly grasps your bicep, gently tugging your palms away from your face. 
You risk a glance over your shoulder and nearly gasp at how close he’s gotten. He's towering over you, something in his face you can’t place. “It’s alright,” he whispers again and you find yourself nodding without really thinking. 
He’s got both hands on your arms now, trailing up and down. The touch is so featherlight you can barely feel it at all. You don’t even realize how he’s gently coaxing you closer until you trip on the towels at your feet. 
You startle, looking down at them and moving to kick them aside. But he stops you, his finger nudging your chip up so you’ll look at him again. There is such blatant want painted across his face that it makes your heart skip a beat. Your breath catches in your throat when he wraps an arm around your waist and drags you closer. 
You can feel all of him. You can feel just how much he wants you. It catches you off guard, this sudden display of attraction. You don’t know where it’s coming from, what’s brought it on. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve been so lonely for so long. You just want to bask in the fact that he looks absolutely starved for you. 
No man has ever looked at you with such heartbreakingly yearning eyes - like he’s been looking for you his whole life. He dips down, lips ghosting gently over yours. Your breaths mingle together, you can nearly taste him. 
It’s unclear which one of you moves first, who pushes closer to the other. But it doesn’t matter because the second you put real pressure behind the kiss he’s all over you. One of his hands drifts down to your ass, squeezing the flesh there and dragging you closer, grinding his hips into yours. 
You moan at the feeling, your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself even closer. He groans against your lips at the first swipe of your tongue. You part with a gasp when he picks you up, practically tossing you onto your sink. Your legs spread instinctually, making room for him as he slots himself between them. 
It’s odd, feeling so vulnerable even when he’s the one who's completely naked. It still feels like he’s holding all the power. 
His lips are moving frantically over yours like he’s terrified you’re going to disappear the second he lets go. You can taste something desperate on his tongue. Something deeply rooted inside him that you can’t identify. 
One of your hands drifts from his neck, trailing over the muscles of his chest. Your fingers carve a path down his abs, relishing in how muscular he feels under your palm. Your hand reaches his pelvis, nearly wrapped around him when he jumps back. 
He grabs your wrist in a grip so tight you know there’s going to be a bruise. A pained gasp slips out and he releases you immediately. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry, I can’t.” He won’t look at you now, backing up towards the shower and shaking his head. “This was a bad idea, I can’t do this.”
You shake your head, slipping off the sink and hiding your bruised wrist behind your back. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have moved so fast.”
You feel too ashamed to meet his eye. He kissed you but you feel like you’ve forced yourself on him somehow. It’s a nauseating feeling and you want nothing more than to run back to your room and hide. 
He takes a step towards you, something pained on his face. “Kid-”
You just shake your head, step out of the bathroom, and grab the handle of the door. “Sorry,” you whisper again, closing the door behind you. You lean against the cool wood, trying to catch your breath. 
Your hand drifts up to your lips, still tingling from how desperately he’d kissed you. It doesn’t make any sense. He came on to you, he threw you up on the sink, and made out with you more passionately than any man ever has before. So why are you the one who feels dirty?
You rush down the hall and into your room, slamming the door behind you. You dive under your covers, closing your eyes even though you know you won’t sleep. No, your shoulders are tensed up to your ears and your bones are vibrating with an energy you need to release. 
You’re completely tuned into the other person lurking in your apartment. You can hear as he starts the shower, how he talks quietly to himself sometimes. Then when he gets out you can perfectly picture what he looks like while he’s getting dressed and it only makes you feel worse. 
You listen as he leaves the bathroom and pauses in the hall. You can see it in your mind’s eye, how he stares at your door. He walks towards it and lingers for a minute before cussing quietly and heading back into the living room. 
You suddenly remember that you didn’t lay sheets out on the couch for him. You feel guilty, but there’s not one part of you that will be dragged from this bed and face him. Not now, at least. 
He’s up for a little while longer, getting water. Turning the TV on and off. Rooting through your cabinets looking for booze you know you don’t have. Finally, he settles on the couch. You’re awake for another hour, unable to relax until you’re completely sure he’s asleep. Even as you drift off and your body finally relaxes your mind doesn’t. You keep seeing that stricken look on his face and it makes you sick to your stomach. 
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It’s the smell of pancakes that wakes you up. You’re not sure when you finally managed to pass out last night but you know it was late. Which is why you’re so pissed off that you’re being forced to get up at seven in the morning. 
You’re used to being able to sleep in a lot later than that. You’re already in a pissy mood from last night and it only gets worse as you trudge around your room getting ready. You’ve never been more thankful to have snagged one of the rare two-bathroom apartments in the building.
You don’t want to have to share a bathroom with Logan. You don’t even want to use the other one after what happened last night. It’s too embarrassing and painful to think about. The emotional whiplash of feeling so desired and then absolutely hideous is making your head spin. 
You’re sure it was all just a problem on his end, but it really doesn’t make you feel any better. When you can’t stall any longer, and you know that Logan has heard you get up, you slip quietly out of your room. 
The curtains in your living room are open and he’s in the kitchen fucking around with your stove. The news is playing quietly on the TV and you’re astounded about how little he’s done and how much more homely your apartment feels. 
It’s never really been home to you. Not after you were booted from the X-Men. But he’s somehow made it ten times cozier than it ever has been. You almost resent him a little for it. 
“Morning,” he grumbles from the kitchen. “Coffee,” he motions behind him and you see a steaming cup already waiting for you. You silently slip behind him, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and pouring it until you’re sure it’s sweet enough to not actually taste the coffee. 
“Thanks,” you mutter, moving to sit at the table. You keep your eyes trained on the TV, pretending to pay attention to the news so you don’t have to look at him. He bores his eyes into the side of your head until you feel like you’re going to have holes in your temple. 
When you can’t take it anymore you finally look over at him. He doesn’t smile, his face barely even twitches, he just looks back to his pan and continues scrambling some eggs. “Didn’t know you cooked,” you offer up weakly, already growing anxious from the silence. 
It feels wrong, to be walking on eggshells in your own apartment. He grunts and shrugs, “Not really cooking. You had the mix in your pantry,” he tells you brusquely. His tone borders on rude and you scoff. 
The audacity of this man to have an attitude with you in your apartment. He was the one who threw a hissy fit last night. You roll your eyes and go back to the news, all it tells you is that the world is just as depressing as the inside of your apartment is right now. 
You notice out of the corner of your eye the way his shoulders slump forward. He leans against the oven, seeming not to care if he burns himself. You suppose it doesn’t matter, he’d just heal. “Sorry,” he mutters. It sounds like it pains him to say the words. 
“Whatever,” you mumble under your breath. You take a long sip of your coffee, slurping a little so you have something to fill the atmosphere. 
He puts some food on a plate and brings it over to the table for you. You usually don’t eat breakfast, preferring to just skip the meal and eat a bigger lunch. But it feels too bitchy to say that to him, so you just accept the food with a strained smile. “Thanks.”
He sits across from you, glaring down at your table like it insulted him. You drag your fork against the plate, letting the scrape of metal against porcelain drown out your worries. Finally, he looks at you. “Look, about last night.”
You tense up. You want to interrupt him, to stop him from explaining. You know it’s just going to hurt your feelings, whatever he says. Whether he tells you it was a mistake or he just realized he’s not attracted to you, either way, you’re fucked. But, it’s also kept you up all night so you just shut your mouth and let him speak. 
You keep your gaze trained on your plate, unable to fully face him. He lets out a long sigh and clenches his fork so tight you hear the metal bend. He drops it to the table and clenches and unclenches his fists a few times. 
“I just couldn’t kiss you, not when I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons.”
Your brows furrow in confusion and you finally look up at him. “What?” You demand, disbelief coloring your voice. 
His eyes are boring into yours, an intensity behind the stare that leaves you feeling a little shaken. “You look like her,” he whispers, and the grief is so thick in his voice it makes your throat tighten. He pauses briefly before continuing. “There are,” he clears his throat like he’s trying not to cry. It makes you lean back in your chair, arms crossed over your stomach uncomfortably. 
“There are a few differences, obviously. You’re not a carbon copy. But your mannerisms, your attitudes, you’re so similar. And I,” he shakes his head and gives you one of the most genuinely apologetic looks you’ve ever received. You can tell he really does feel guilty for projecting on you but it doesn’t make you feel any less uncomfortable. “And I just wasn’t doing that for the right reasons. I was pretending you were her and that’s just not fair to you.”
You lean your elbows on the table, head falling into your hands. You let out a rough sigh and groan in irritation. You knew the reason would hurt but you didn’t think it would be this bad. You feel gross, icky under your skin knowing that he was pretending you were another version of yourself. The version of yourself you’ve always wanted to be; the hero. 
But you also feel such a deep sadness and sympathy for him. He’d briefly mentioned that he was married to this other you. You can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like, to see your dead wife’s face staring at you and she doesn’t even know you. 
“I,” you don’t even know where to begin. You struggle to say anything for a minute and you both just stew in the tense silence. You take in a deep breath and look up at him. You do what you always do, forcing a smile and shrugging it off. “I appreciate the honesty, really.” You stand up, bringing your still-full plate into the kitchen and busying yourself with cleaning up. 
“Clearly,” you snap, your voice crueler than it should be, “It was a mistake. We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again, right?”
Logan sits silently at the table. He looks like there’s more he wants to say but you don’t give him the chance. You can’t take it. You finally thought someone had wanted you for you, flaws and all. You’re a fucking idiot, he barely even knows you. Whatever connection you thought was there was just brought about by your own loneliness. 
“I gotta get ready for work,” you tell his back because he isn’t looking at you now. 
He nods, scraping his fork across the plate as he aggressively cuts into his food. “Right.” You wait for him to say anything else but he doesn’t. 
You walk past him and head back to your room. You don’t even have a job, you don’t have to work. But you still grab your purse and head out of the apartment. Pretending you do just so you don’t have to look at him anymore. 
You really should have let him finish, though. You should have let him keep talking to you. Let him explain how as much as he sees her in you, that’s not why he wants you. He wants you for you. Because as similar as you can be, you’re still a completely different person from who his late wife was. You’re someone strong and incredible and he genuinely wants you. But he can never really let himself be happy. 
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It takes a few days for you both to ease up around the other. The incident in the bathroom is never brought up again. You take him shopping for clothes after a few days. It feels wrong to keep giving him Wade’s hand-me-downs. You would have had your friend take him, but you don’t trust Wade’s sense of fashion at all. 
After that and getting lunch together while you were out shopping things got a little easier. You bought him a bed for the spare room because you felt guilty seeing him all cramped up on your tiny couch. 
You don’t initiate any physical contact with each other. The closest you’d gotten was your hands brushing when you both reached for some popcorn at the same time on movie night. But you hadn’t really minded that bad. 
Eventually, he starts to feel like a real roommate and a friend. He lets little pieces of himself slip out. Slowly opens up about his past. You haven’t made any existential discoveries of course. But he tells you stories of what his X-Men were like. 
You try not to dance around the topic of his wife, you don’t want him to think you’re avoiding asking about her. But you also don’t want him to think you’re obsessed with discussing her. 
He’s right, you two weren’t carbon copies of each other at all. You might share a few things in common but the more both you and Logan learn about each other, the more clear it is how different you both are from your variants. 
Sometimes you think he looks at you like he’s really seeing you, not her. But you can never be sure and you don’t want to put much strength behind the thought in case you’re wrong. You hate the idea that when you’re thinking of nothing but him, he’s just seeing her reflection on your face. 
There’s nothing you can do about it but it doesn’t stop the hurt. 
Tonight, at Wade’s suggestion, you’re both up on the roof waiting for a meteor shower that you’re ninety percent sure is never going to happen. You’re also one hundred percent sure that Wade just tricked you out of your apartment so he could have sex in it. He and Vanessa don’t really get a lot of time alone with Blind Al around. You’re already mentally preparing for the absolute fuck storm you’re going to have to clean up after.  
There’s a light nudge on your shoulder and you glance over at Logan. He’s got the whiskey bottle outstretched towards you and you take it from him with a smile. One thing about being his roommate, your alcohol tolerance has skyrocketed. His liver might regenerate, but you’re pretty sure if you keep going down this route yours will give out in a few months. 
“Think this is actually going to happen?” You ask, pointing up toward the clear night sky. 
Logan chuckles and shakes his head. He stretches out in your flimsy lawn chair and you try not to let your gaze be drawn to the sliver of skin peeking out from his shirt. “Probably not, but I don’t mind being out here.”
There’s an unspoken, with you, that makes you smile. You meet his gaze, his eyes soft as he watches you. “Me either.” You lean back in your chair, pulling your legs up onto the seat and huddling under your blanket. “It’s peaceful.”
You drink together in silence for a little while longer. Then you have to tap out, you don’t want your brain getting too foggy. Tonight is nice, you want to remember it tomorrow. To your surprise, he caps the bottle and places it to the side. You don’t mention it but you do feel like you’ve noticed he’s been drinking a little less. The dark circles under his eyes seem to be easing away ever so slightly. 
He looks over at you with an odd light in his eyes. You shift uncomfortably under his stare when it lasts a little longer than it usually does. You chuckle awkwardly, “Do I have something on my face?”
There’s a soft uptick to his lips as he shakes his head. “No,” he mutters, looking back out at the night. “You mind if I ask you something?”
Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”
He still doesn’t look at you and you worry slightly about whatever it is he’s going to ask. He doesn’t ease you into it all, “Wade said your brain was broken?” A laugh springs out of your throat from how brusque that was. He rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’ idiot mentioned it in the void, been wonderin’ about it.”
“It’s fine,” you tell him. You’re relaxed enough that you don’t mind answering. You don’t want to pop the soft bubble you’ve managed to create around each other. “Here,” you hold your hand out for the whiskey bottle. He gives you an apprehensive look before handing it over. 
You unscrew the cap, “This,” you say and point your hand at the glass. The liquid inside lifts into the air and you freeze it before dropping it back into the bottle with a splash, a simple little party trick. “This used to be enough to put me in a coma for two days. That’s what he meant. Something happened to me and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
Logan’s eyes widen and he shakes his head in disbelief. You laugh a little, “I assume your wife never had problems like that?”
There’s always a fond smile when you mention his wife. Whether the memory is bittersweet or not. “She wasn’t perfect, much as I thought so. When she used her powers too much she,” he trails off and looks down at the floor. You frown, ducking your head down so you can catch his gaze. 
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” you promise quietly.
But he shakes his head and gives you a weak, tight-lipped smile. “No, I want to. And I don’t want you to think you’re the only Flux who struggled. When she used her powers too much she would deteriorate. Parts of her would just disappear, I don’t even know how to describe it. They were destroying her from the inside out.”
You let out a low whistle, eyes widening slightly. “Well, maybe I didn't get the short end of the stick after all.” It’s quiet and for a moment you worry your humor was ill-timed. 
But he lets out a rough laugh, “No, I guess not.” He takes in a deep breath before looking back up at you. There’s no distant sadness in his eyes like there usually is when you bring her up. It seems to only be a familiar ache now, rather than something fresh and bleeding. “But what happened to you? Why couldn’t you use your powers?”
“Oh,” you look down at your lap, picking at the strings of your pants. It would be unfair to have him talk about his wife and then wimp out when it was your turn. 
“Um, There was this mission. A bunch of kids, mutants, were being held in this warehouse. It was actually pretty normal, just go in, retrieve them, and bring them back to safety. I must have done a dozen of these before, but, I don’t know. Something was this different this time around.”
You can still hear them screaming. In your mind, you hear the way they cried for help. And you see the look on your faces when they realize you can’t save them every time you go to sleep. 
You suck in a sharp breath and almost jump when his hand lands on yours. It’s gentle, he’s barely even touching you and he’s not even acknowledging what he’s doing. But you take his hand in yours and squeeze, it’s nice, grounding. 
“Long story short, they were heavily guarded and I was pretty drained from fighting off the guards. My powers were practically gone by the time we could even get to the kids. And, I don’t know, something must have gotten knocked over or hit the wrong way because smoke was filling the place and everything was on fire. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t breathe, and the kids were blocked off. There was nothing we could do to get to them. Everyone kept screaming at me, telling me to just use my abilities and get them out of there. I couldn’t,” your voice gets thick and you look anywhere but at him. “I,” your mouth hangs open and you don’t know what you could possibly say. 
There’s no excuse for what happened. “I just couldn’t,” you whisper. You sniffle and your eyes flutter rapidly, trying to stop any tears from coming. “Hadn’t been able to use my powers since then. Trauma block or something, I guess,” you dismiss yourself flippantly and shrug. 
Logan just squeezes your hand again. He doesn’t seem to know what to say to comfort you and you’re honestly grateful for the silence. You get so sick of people telling you there was nothing you could have done. Or that the others should have helped you. Because that’s not a fucking excuse. There’s no fixing what happened, no giving those parents their children back. You fucked up and you don’t appreciate people giving you cop-outs. 
You keep your gaze trained steadily on the ground, eyes going blurry while you try to slip into the back of your mind. You don’t get the chance, though. Logan is kneeling in front of you, hands slipping up your arms to cup your face. 
He forces you to look at him, to stay present in the moment with him. “You fucked up,” he tells you. It's so shocking that you can’t help but let out a loud wet laugh. You sniffle and he grins, wiping the tears out from under your eyes. His grip on your cheeks tightens and he makes sure you’re listening as he speaks, “You fucked up, kid. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t try your fucking hardest. And it doesn’t erase all the people you did help.”
Your eyes search him, trying to find any kernel of untruth. Trying to prove to yourself that this isn’t real. That he isn’t real. You don’t deserve this moment of such unwavering trust and faith. This is meant for someone else, for someone who deserves good things in life. 
You’ve never truly believed you deserved happiness or peace like this. But right now you don’t care because he is saying everything you’ve ever wanted to hear. And he actually means it. 
Your hand drifts up, covering his and tilting your head to press a gentle kiss to his palm. It’s tentative, a test, a way to give him an out if doesn’t want this. His grip on you tightens for half a second before he shoots forward and claims your lips with his own. 
It escalates quickly. You practically melt off your chair, straddling his lap while he leans back on the ground. Your hands tug at his hair while he moves desperately over your body. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to do, where he wants to touch you. 
You love how fully his hands engulf you, the tight way they cradle you to his chest. You’ve never felt more secure in someone’s arms than you do right now. He’s got you, and he wants you. For you this time, you can tell. You can tell from the way he holds you that this isn’t a desperation born from grief. It’s something else, something you’re not ready to identify yet. 
His tongue laves across the seam of your lips, silently asking permission. You smile against the kiss, parting your lips and deepening it. He licks into you, tasting you with a low grunt in the back of his throat. You feel your hips start to move of their own volition. Gently grinding down against his lap. You moan when you feel just how bad he wants you. 
You lean back, parting from the kiss and pressing a finger to his chest to keep from following. You chuckle at his eagerness, grinding your hips down again and watching the way he thrusts up to meet your movement. “Didn’t know I was such a good kisser,” you tease. 
But he doesn’t return the joke or play along. His face falls slightly and he pulls further away from you, the look on his face distant. “What?” You whisper. “Do I have bad breath?” You joke, trying to keep the mood light. 
He shakes his head and runs a tired hand over his face. “No,” he mutters. He repeats the word more firmly and finally meets your gaze. “I think I need to take this slow, just because of…”
He trails off but you know what he means. His wife. You don’t know if he’s still projecting her onto you, you felt so sure he wasn’t earlier. But if every time you kiss he’s gonna pull back you’re not sure that you can do this. “Of course,” you mutter with a bite to your voice. It’s hard not to feel a little rejected every time he acts like this. 
You move to get off his lap but his hands clamp down on your hips and he shakes his head again. “You don’t have to get up.”
You hesitate, thighs still hovering over his. You should get up and put as much space between you as possible. But he’s so warm and you want to be held for a little while more. You nod and he looks relieved. You lean back down, pressing your chest against his and letting your head rest in the crook of his neck. 
He wraps a heavy arm around your back, keeping you close while the other reaches up to stroke your hair. It makes you feel small, in a good way. Like you can just relax and he’ll take care of you. 
“Goddamn,” he laughs a little and you sit up. He nods to the sky above and you turn around, gasping. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, “he wasn’t lying.” For once, Wade was telling the truth. Above you, it looks like the sky is falling. Glittering stars dart across the sky, streaks of blue following behind them. You grin, “It’s so beautiful.”
Logan keeps his eyes on you and nods, “Yeah, it is.”
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“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”
”Wade,” you greet tightly. You shove the bottle of wine you brought into his chest and he stumbles back. “Just let us in, you freak.”
He frowns, placing a hand over his heart. “You know, it really hurts when you talk like that. I think we all need to hold hands and have a good old-fashioned jerk circle.”
You roll your eyes and flick his thick forehead. “It’s share circle, dumbass.”
”Not the way I do it,” he moves to the side and lets you both in. “Well, mi casa es su casa, especially since Vanessa and I had rockin’ sex in your bed last week.”
He walks off before you can hit him or even begin to respond to that. “I fucking knew it,” you hiss, glaring at his stupid Hawaiian shirt while he mingles with the rest of the people at the party. 
Logan chuckles behind you, “How did you two ever become friends?”
You roll your eyes and turn to face him. “I moved in next door,” you respond dryly. “This was a nonconsensual friendship because god hates me, clearly.” You shrug your jacket off and he takes it from you, hanging it up on the hook by the door. He comes back, slinging an arm around your shoulder, and leading you towards the kitchen. 
You hear Wade laughing loudly in the background and he grunts, “I’m gonna need a drink for this,” he mutters. You nod your head in agreement. You don’t get very far, though, because without any warning Wade is in front of you. He’s got his ridiculous dog in his arms and shoves her in your face. You grimace and jump back. Logan abandons you and you narrow your eyes at his retreating back. Traitor
Wade says your name with disappointment. “You know, Mary Puppins is a part of my life now. As my best friend, you need to bond with her. I can’t have you two fighting like this.” He shoves the dog into your arms without any warning and you flinch away from her wandering tongue. 
“If this thing licks me, I’m putting her down,” you warn him gravely. 
He gasps and snatches her back. “You are no longer welcome in my home,” he tells you with a snotty huff. You roll your eyes and watch him go. When he’s out of sight your lips curl up in a grin and you glance at Logan. 
He’s by the sink, making himself a drink and taking a deep swig straight out of the bottle. You creep up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiles, hand coming down to gently hold your arm. “What’re you doing?”
”Come with me,” you whisper. You take his hand and lead him through the apartment. You both skirt around the partygoers, giving them vague greetings and waving them off when they give you odd looks. 
Logan leans down, lips brushing across your ear as he whispers, “Where are we going?” Your knees nearly give out when you hear that low tone of voice of his. You just shake your head and lead him down the hall. You can sniff out Wade’s room from the permeating stench of his axe body spray. 
You throw the door open and drag Logan inside behind you. His nose wrinkles up at the stiff socks littering the floor and the smell. Other than that, it’s relatively clean. You actually thought this would look so much worse. 
“Now,” Logan demands, “are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”
“Well,” you lock the door and turn around with a devious grin. “Seeing as Wade has ruined my favorite sheets, I feel like we need to get him back somehow.” You glance around the room, trying to figure out something of his you want to destroy. 
You don’t hear Logan moving towards you. You’re too busy rooting through Wade’s desk and trying to find something good to shred up.  All you’re seeing is increasingly more disturbing porno mags. He has got a serious problem with pegging. You briefly wonder if you should set up an intervention or something for him. 
You nearly yelp when Logan’s hands grip your shoulders, whipping you around to face him. “I’ve got an idea of what we can do.” That’s your only warning before his lips cover your own. You melt into him immediately, hands fisting his shirt and dragging him closer. He grins against your lips, lifting you and placing you on the edge of Wade’s desk. 
“Mm,” you moan but shove his chest back and shake your head. “Wait,” you hop off the desk and take a seat on Wade’s bed instead. “There’s no point in this if we’re not on the bed.”
Logan shakes his head with an amused huff. He walks towards you but instead of taking a seat on the bed next to you like you'd expected, he kneels before you. Your brows furrow together and you frown. “Wait, what’re you doing?”
He gives you a gentle smile, hands coming up to rub gently over your thighs. The warmth of his palms soothes you almost immediately. “You trust me?” He asks, voice a low rumble against your chest. 
“Yeah,” you whisper. He nods encouragingly and leans forward, kissing you gently. There’s nothing expectant in this kiss. He’s doing it just to be close to you. Then you feel his hands drifting higher, fingers running over the buttons of your jeans. Your lips part, ready to ask him a question. But he just takes the chance to dip his tongue into your mouth, eagerly tasting you. You moan into it, not protesting when he presses you back into the bed. 
His fingers dip under the waistband of your jeans. You lift your hips to help him tug them the rest of the way down until they’re dropping to the floor quietly. You have a million questions dancing on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find it in yourself to actually voice any of them. You don’t want to break the moment. This is the first time he’s seemed comfortable going further than kissing and some heavy petting. 
“Fuck,” he whispers. Your hips jolt as he runs a thumb over the wet spot on your panties. “All this just from kissing?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his tone. You feel your face flush, cheeks warming when you realize he’s never actually seen just how much he affects you. “Relax,” he tells you, squeezing your thighs once before slipping a few lithe fingers under the band of your panties. 
He tugs them down, but the second he sets eyes on you he gets too impatient to take them off the rest of the way. They dangle off one ankle while he lifts your thighs, setting them on his shoulder and dipping down to press a gentle kiss against you. You gasp at the contact, head tilting back while you instinctually grind your hips up against him. 
It’s been a long time since you’ve actually been with anyone and you already know you’re going to cum embarrassingly quick because he fucking devours you. You’ve had boyfriends who liked to eat you out before, but this is something completely different. 
He drags his tongue over you, sucking on your clit like it’s his only true joy in life. You can’t even make noises, your jaw hanging slack while you cant your hips higher. He groans when you grind against his face, shaking his head and flicking his nose across your bud. You nearly come from the sight of him smiling against your cunt alone. You feel it building slowly, and it’s like your powers are swelling up along with your release. 
Wade’s knicknacks are floating off the shelves, some of them rotating in the air, others fluctuating between liquid and solid forms. You can’t control yourself, you’re barely aware of the chaos happening in the room around you. You just feel a warmth at the tips of your toes, swelling over your body, making your skin feel too tight. There’s little to no warning when you cum. He dips his tongue inside you and you let out a long moan, drenching his face. 
The sheets are soaking wet underneath you and you know you’ve ruined his shirt. You’ve never come that hard before and you would reflect on that more if he wasn’t still fucking eating you out. You think your brain is going to melt out of your ears, you're so overwhelmed by all the different sensations.
He dips his tongue into you, dragging out your orgasm and drinking as much of you down as he can. Your hips keep twitching, you’d be thrashing out of his hands if it wasn’t for the near brushing grip he has on your hips. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you reach down, grabbing his hair at the roots and tugging. He groans at the feeling, barely leaning an inch back. “No more,” you whisper, chest heaving. 
He smiles, palms smoothing across the skin of your thighs, “You okay?” 
“Mhm,” you hum weakly. Your head falls back against the bed with a dull thunk and you struggle to catch your breath. “Holy shit, where did you learn to do that?” He doesn’t answer, just laughs. You jump slightly when he presses a tender kiss on your thigh, every part of you oversensitive. 
He moves slowly up your body, hands dragging your shirt up until he’s pulling it over your head. He cups your cheeks, letting you recover while he kisses your cheeks and face. You laugh slightly at the feeling of his beard tickling you. 
You pull back, meeting his gaze for a long drawn-out moment before you lean forward to finally kiss him back. You can feel yourself slowly coming back into your body. Your limbs tingle back to life while you lazily make out with him. 
His hands drift down your chest, squeezing your breasts. You laugh against his lips, arching into his touch. You reach back, unclipping your bra and throwing it off somewhere in the room. In the far reaches of your mind, you make a mental note to take that when you go. You don’t want to think about what Wade would do with it if he found it. 
Logan pulls back from you and your lips tip down at the serious look he wears. Your fingers trace the lines of his face and you tilt your head in question. “What’s wrong?” You whisper. You’re completely naked before him and he’s still clothed, you don’t want him to leave now. 
He can’t keep doing this to you. He can’t keep forcing you into these vulnerable positions and then leaving. There’s only so much rejection you can take before you start to resent him for it. 
He tilts his head down, gaze dragging across your body appreciatively. He’s looking at you like you’re art and it makes you feel like you should be in a museum somewhere. Finally, his hand drags down from your chest, wrapping around your waist and dragging you onto his lap. 
You brace your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He leans towards you, lips trailing lightly across your jaw. “You’re not her,” he whispers against your skin. Your mouth parts, a pained breath slipping through. You try to move back from him. You hadn’t expected something like that, not now, not when you thought you’d made so much progress together. 
To have you naked, vulnerable like this, and then say something like that to you. It was fucking despicable. You shove his shoulders back but he barely moves. You shift, trying to cover yourself and fighting off the urge to cry. Why won’t he let you go? Why does he keep doing this to you? 
He reaches out, snatching up your wrist before you can get far. “I don’t want you to be. I never wanted you to be her, I need you to know that.”
He tries to kiss you but you snatch his jaw in your hand before he can. You let your nails dig in until there’s red blooming under your fingertips. He hisses, but he’s not mad, you can feel how much he enjoys the little pinpricks of pain. 
“No more pulling away,” you warn. “I’m not playing this damn game with you anymore, Logan. You want me, then commit.” You release him with a shove and his pupils dilate with want. You appreciate the gentle way he’s been treating you, but you know you’re both holding back. 
He’s the first partner you’ve been with that can actually take what you give and vice versa. There’s something only mutants understand sometimes. You normally have to hold back, have to make sure you don’t scare a guy off by making the walls shake when you come. 
You push him down onto the bed. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt and running over the grooves of his muscles. You haven’t had a chance to appreciate just how gorgeous his body is before, but nothing is holding you back now. 
You snap your fingers and the buttons rip open, he surges forward catching your lips with his while you both frantically push his shirt off. He throws it off to the side and his fingers fumble with his belt buckle while you trail kisses down his neck. You glance up at him for a second before biting down on a particularly sensitive spot. 
He groans, head rolling back while you grin against his skin. You make your way back to his lips. “Don’t hold back,” you tell him, trailing your hands down to his fists and running over the spots where the claws come out. 
“Sweetheart,” he starts tone apprehensive. You shake your head, shutting him up with a kiss. 
“Don’t. Hold. Back.”
It’s like a switch flipping. Even the way he looks at you changes. You’re not something to be cherished and adored. You feel like a deer pinned by a wolf. He’s got you in his clutches now and there’s a real possibility you might not survive this. 
He stands up, dropping you on the bed and dragging your hips off the edge. He doesn’t kick his jeans off, just lowers them enough for his cock to hang out. You’ll address the fact that he wasn’t wearing boxers later, you’re too worried about what’s hanging between his legs right now. 
You’re no virgin, but goddamn, there’s no way that’s going to fit. 
He laughs, the noise cruel and it makes shivers crawl down your spine. “We’ll make it work, kid.” He spreads your legs and you tilt your hips up, making it easier for him to just sip inside. 
There’s a slight stretch, but you’re already soaked for him. You’ve been waiting for this to happen since you walked in on him naked in your bathroom. “Oh, shit,” you toss your head back, taking in a deep breath while he pushes in. It feels like he’s rearranging your insides, molding you to fit him perfectly. 
You can already feel yourself clenching down, just being so close to him is enough to make that tingle in the tips of your toes start. He leans down, placing your legs over his elbows and rutting into you like a wild animal. There’s nothing gentle or slow about this. 
You’re both so pent-up, tired from the weeks of dancing around each other. Your nails drag up his back, blood following your movement. Your powers are actively surging against him, pain only driving you further into each other’s arms. 
You can hear his breathy grunts and groans in your ears and it’s music to you. Neither of you cares about the party going on just outside the door. You’re loud, skin slapping against skin while you loudly call out his name. 
God, you hope they hear you. Hope they realize just how thoroughly you’re wrecked for each other. You can feel yourself getting closer, hips stuttering against his while you struggle to match his pace. “Come on,” he mutters in your ear. He releases one of your legs to reach down and rub your clit. 
“Fuck,” you groan, reaching up and tugging at his hair while your back bows. It only takes a few more tight circles of his thumb before you’re spasming around him. He’s quick to follow behind you. 
He pins your hips to the bed, dropping your legs while he thrusts faster. He loses his rhythm, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as he cums inside you. It’s like a mini death, you feel like you’ve lost time when you finally manage to come back to yourself. 
And when you roll your head to the side you realize just how much damage you’ve done to Wade’s bed. “Shit,” You glance up at the sound of his voice and notice little droplets of blood on your hips. Logan’s claws are out, stuck in the fluff of the bed. 
You force the words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “Do that often?”
“Not really,” he mutters. The claws retreat and he rubs his fingers over the blood. It’s not bad, you’ve honestly done worse to yourself. It’s like a big paper cut. When the rough pad of his fingers presses against the cut you hiss at the sting, nearly enjoying it. 
“Must be special,” you tell him with a cheeky grin. He shakes his head with a laugh and takes his time pulling out. You hate the loss of him inside you but it's a slight relief. He's larger than any partner you’ve ever had and it’s almost overwhelming to be so full. 
“Come on, let's get you dressed.” He pats your thighs, glancing around for your clothes. 
“Uh, Logan,” he looks up and you glance at his still very hard cock. “I thought you came?”
The smile he gives you is slightly terrifying. Because there’s a promise in it. He’s not getting you dressed for no reason. He’s taking you back to your apartment so you can have more fun where there are less people and fewer reminders of Wade. “Stamina's part of the deal, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” you whisper, voice breathless in shock. You wipe the cum off your legs with Wade’s sheets. You feel like you’ve thoroughly gotten revenge on him for destroying your favorite bed set. Maybe, you’ve gone a little farther than revenge, though. 
You feel guilty, looking around the room and seeing everything you destroyed. Once you’re dressed, you wave your hand, putting most things back where they belong. But there’s nothing you can do about the bed. The sheets are soaked with a mixture of yours and Logan’s releases and there are six holes dug deep in the bed from his claws. 
When you step out of the room with Logan, struggling to press down your hair and get it back into place, Blind Al is waiting by the door. She’s doing a line off the back of her hand when you pass by. You think you’ve almost made it scott-free when she yells, “Man, I wish I couldn’t fucking hear,” at you. 
You tense up, shoulders to your ears while you run to the door. Logan laughs, grabbing your coat for you and pressing a hand to your back while he leads you to the apartment. “Weren’t feeling so embarrassed earlier,” he teases. 
“Shut up,” you grumble, dragging him into the apartment to finish what you couldn’t on Wade’s bed. 
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You’ve managed to keep any holes out of your bed, you just have to use your powers to keep his at bay. It’s nice, not having to explain why everything around you is levitating to the person you’re having sex with. There were a lot of awkward conversations that came from that. 
You’re lying on Logan’s chest, fingers idly running over the veins in his biceps. “I want to be serious about this,” you tell him. 
His hand pauses from where it’d been stroking your back. You sit up on your elbow so you can get a better look at him. “I mean it, I,” there’s no way to say this without sounding like a complete bitch. You just have to rip the bandaid off. 
You take in a deep breath, “I know that you still miss her,” you say, unwilling to say her name. Logan sits up, looking more serious now. “But I don’t want to be with you if you think that I’m going to turn into her. Or if you think that I’m the last connection you have to her. I’m not her, Logan, and I'm never going to be her.”
You expect anger on his face or regret, maybe. But you don’t expect him to laugh at you. You roll your eyes, lips pursed while you wait for him to finish. He notices the pissy expression on your face and quiets down, but you still see a smile fighting on his lips. 
“I know you’re not her. You could not be more different” he tells you with a slight smirk, like there’s an inside joke you’re missing out on. “I was married to her for a long time and I loved her. But we had our time together. Now, I just want my time with you. You’re not her,” he leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “That’s why I want you.”
You feel your heart flutter in your chest and have to fight to keep a stupid grin off your face. “Okay,” you whisper. “Good, well as long as we’re on the same page,” you tell him, faux serious. He just rolls his eyes and pulls you back into his arms. 
You’re going to cuddle up beside him when you hear your phone going off like crazy on your nightstand. Your face pinches in confusion and you reach over to grab it. 
Wade
Did you fuckers have sex???
In my bed!!!!
And you didn’t invite me?!
….
Wade
Tell Logan I want his claws in me next
“Fuckin’ dumbass,” you mutter, throwing your phone somewhere on the bed. Logan laughs again, drawing you closer. 
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a/n: i have a really weird tendency for masochism, idk what that’s about. I just feel like if you were having sex with this man, he’s taking you like a wild animal. also feel like I might be a one-hit wonder. the smut just wasn’t doing it for me this time guys nor was the angst, i’m disappointed in myself
I just don't think I did justice to his character in the movie, I might have made it too OOC/ if I did PLEASE let me know
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus ♡
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kyber-crystal ¡ 13 days ago
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10 things i hate about you || f.w.
summary: rumor has it that you and fred weasley are going out. being the instigators you two are, you decide to play into said rumors. but just how far could you go before you lose sight of the line between fiction and reality? 
words: ~7.9k LMFAO I REALLY WENT OVERBOARD HERE
warnings: cheesiness, cliche 10 things i hate about you vibes, both y/n and fred being oblivious idiots. what’s more to love
a/n: you thought i’d avoid writing another fake dating fic? with fred? NEVER. ik there r some fake dating fred fics out there but i swear we need MORE bc this is the best trope ever idc. also made up a name for the school paper cs i forgot if it was a thing in the books/movies lol. reader is an implied gryffindor/ravenclaw but can technically be in whatever house you’d like : )
add yourself to my hp taglist here!
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The problem with Hogwarts was that rumors spread through its halls like fiendfyre.
It all started during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry had narrowly caught the Snitch after a Dementor false alarm and carried the team to victory, causing the stadium to explode into ground-shaking cheers.  Waves of deep crimson and gold were pouring onto the field and you almost got trampled in the midst of it until someone pulled you into the center. 
“There you are—I was looking all over for you,” Fred beamed. “You were watching, right?”
“I was sitting front row…you literally saw me, Fred,” you stated plainly. 
“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he winked at you, sidelining you into a hug. “You look very pretty, by the way. I think my hat looks better on you than me.”
“Anddd there’s the woman of the hour! He couldn’t stop staring at you—almost crashed into the teachers’ section ‘cause of that,” Lee came over and clasped your shoulder. 
“That’s what that was all about? Freddie, you need to get it together!”
“Can’t help when you’re as alluring as a Veela,” the compliment rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He then tilted his chin down to kiss your forehead, and you didn’t bother pushing him away despite the fact that he was all sweaty after being up in the air. 
A bright flash of light pulled you out of Fred’s embrace, and you blinked to see Colin standing there with a wide grin on his face, camera in hand. 
“Just capturing the moment,” the younger Gryffindor said excitedly. “This is gonna be a good one!”
You thought nothing of it until you went down to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. You went over to find your Ravenclaw friends, who seemed to be huddled around something, staring at it intensely.
“Oh, hey Y/N!” Cho beamed brightly at you, moving over to make room for you to sit next to her. “Have you seen the latest school newsletter?”
You filled your plate and took a copy of the Hogwarts Daily Digest that Padma gave you. “No…what’s it all about?”
“Check page 3,” she told you. You took a bite of your toast first, pausing as you scanned over the page. At the front and center was a moving picture of you and Fred embracing, him pressing a kiss to your temple, smiles of pure bliss on both your faces. You had to admit that Colin had a way with pictures; so much so that you almost would’ve believed you and Fred were a true couple just by looking at the article. 
“So we’re going out, apparently,” you said, taking another bite of your food, “...Interesting.”
“Several students were interviewed about it, and they’re wondering if you guys are,” Cho explained. “With the way he kept looking over at you during the game, and how he was searching for you after it ended.” 
“I—I’ve ought to talk to Fred himself, see what he thinks about this—” you spluttered, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I just—we’re not even—”
“But you would be very cute together,” your best friend added. “I mean, you have known each other for how long now? It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if you were.”
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At the end of the day, you went to the library to squeeze in some quiet alone time for reading, curling up on one of the plushy sofas near the bookshelves. You were deep into a mythical book that Hermione recommended, fully zoned in for what felt like forever until the cushion sank a bit, indicating that someone had sat down next to you.
“What do you want, Fred,” you sighed without even looking up from your book. “Come to bother me again?”
He took the book from your hands in response and closed it. 
“Hey, I was reading that—” you began. 
“I wanted to ask you about the article,” he stated, “don’t you think Creevey’s quite the photographer?”
You scoffed. “If this is about us being a couple, you know we’re not.”
“I was going to suggest something else.”
“And what is that?”
“Given that half the school is talking about us already,” he referred to the whispers in the halls that followed you from class to class, “why not play into the rumors a bit?”
“So you’re suggesting that, what?”
“That we say we’re a couple.”
“...you want to pretend that we’re going out?”
“Why not?” 
“That’s insane,” you shot him a glare. “What do either of us get out of it?”
“Practice, of course,” Fred had a proud look on, “but also, why not have some fun with it?”
You stopped and thought about it for a second. He was right—who were you to not want to have a bit of fun? After all, it was just Fred; it couldn’t be that hard to fake-date someone, especially when you had no real feelings for them.
“Fine, but only on one condition.”
“What’s that, love?”
“Promise not to fall in love with me?” You stuck your hand out towards him. 
Fred took it and gave it a firm shake, his signature mischievous grin making its appearance. “As long as you don’t fall for me either.”
“Dream on.”
He leans forward, voice dropping to a low whisper. “10 galleons says you’ll fall in love with me first.”
“Oh, please. 20 says you won’t even last half as long.”
“You’re on.”
So it began—settling into the whole routine was surprisingly easy. But of course, it was probably easier since you had money on the line; asides from George, you and Fred were the most competitive people in the entire school. You’d do anything for extra money, glory, and infinite bragging rights. 
Making it a point to one-up each other, you began to brainstorm ways to really play up the whole “fake girlfriend” thing.
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i. the pda competition, part 1
Monday afternoon’s Potions lesson proceeded as always, with Snape’s annoying, drawling voice instructing you on what to do. 
Today’s class was boring but ended early, the only downside being that you were assigned a hefty load of homework. 
“By the beginning of Wednesday’s class, you shall turn in to me two feet of parchment on the history of Strengthening Solution and its’ properties…” Snape ordered, “...for now, follow the instructions on the board. Ingredients are in the back. I expect the utmost perfection and accuracy…those who fail shall not be tolerated.”
Groaning internally, you headed to the back of the classroom towards the supply cabinets, Fred following close behind. Either Snape was out to get you both or it was sheer luck that had you paired together for this assignment. 
“Wait, you forgot something,” Fred called out as you were about to walk away. 
You turned around, a snarky reply ready. “What is—”
You didn’t even have the chance to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the wrist and tugged you into his chest, kissing you square on the lips. You were completely taken by surprise and had no time to react whatsoever. 
Low wolf-whistles and “ooohs” reverbrated throughout the entire classroom as you broke apart. 
“What was that for?” you hissed. 
There was a devilish grin on his face, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it right off him. “Just trying to be a good fake boyfriend, of course,” he whispered into your ear.
“Touch me again without warning and I’ll break your nose,” you said in a low tone, ignoring the heat rising up your cheeks.
“Miss Y/L/N…Mr. Weasley…” Snape said lowly, “...back to your seats, both of you. This is a classroom, not a bedroom. Get to work.”
Several students giggled at this and you huffed, heading back to your seat. You didn’t speak more than a few sentences to Fred for the remainder of the lesson, face still flushed from the sudden incident. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked in silence, adding the ingredients into your bubbling cauldron with careful, precise movements.
“That’s 1-0 to me,” he reminded you. “Better hurry and catch up, or I’m winning those Galleons.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you muttered, uncapping the bottle in front of you and pouring some of the liquid in.
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ii. the pda competition, part 2
After Fred had kissed you in the middle of a packed classroom, you were determined to get back at him, racking your brain for ideas. 
You sat under a sprawling tree by the Great Lake with Cedric, Cho, Padma, Ernie, and several other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. Somehow, you got lucky and all had matching free periods today, taking the opportunity to have a picnic by the water together. 
“A little birdie told me that you and a special someone were going out,” Cedric pointed a finger at you, the other arm slung around Cho’s shoulders. “Now what’s going on?”
“They’ve always been mad about each other, only took them a million years to see it,” Ernie butted in. “Isn’t it obvious? One would think they’re already married at this point, though.” 
“Who’s married to who?” you heard someone ask from behind you. 
“Speak of the devil,” Ernie said, “there he is!”
“Was going to check on you—see you at supper?” Fred lightly touched your cheek. You nodded blindly, the skin of his hand hot on your face. 
“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”
You turned back around to see everyone smirking at you knowingly. 
“What?” you questioned, adjusting the collar of your shirt as if nothing had happened. 
“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Cho laughed breathily, “Ernie was right. It’s like you’re married.”
“Oh shut up, we’re still much too young for that.”
“Not for long!” 
Of course the only empty seat at the Gryffindor table that evening was next to Fred, and he made sure that you were sitting as close to him as humanly possible. All it would take was an extra few inches and you’d fully be sitting on his lap. You shook off the embarrassment and snapped back into it, determined to win the bet.
“I missed you all day, you know,” he admitted, placing a dinner roll onto your plate for you. “Where have you been?”
“By the lakes,” you said matter-of-factly. “Where else would I be?”
“With me, obviously.” 
“I’d rather be anywhere else.”
“Well that hurt,” he pretended to look hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”
“Second to last,” you joked. “Hey, wait—there’s something on your mouth.”
“Where?” he tried motioning around with his fingers but to no avail. 
“Right…here…” you murmured, gently grasping his chin and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lip, tasting a hint of the sweet cranberry sauce he’d been eating on the tip of your tongue. Loud gasps erupted through the Great Hall at the sudden private but public display. 
Fred inhaled sharply—he knew you were bold, but like this? For once, the jokester had nothing sarcastic to counter you with and was at a loss for words. 
When you pulled away, both yours and his faces were a shade of deep scarlet.
“Cat got your tongue?” you smirked, discreetly slipping a sheet of paper into his back pocket. “That’s 1-1 now, Fred.”
Again, Fred was left speechless. 
“I feel like I’m interrupting something very…” Ron coughed, damn near choking on his chicken leg. “Intimate. Scandalous. Very—”
“Shut it, Ronald,” you cut him off. “Can’t a girl snog her boyfriend when she wants?”
More jaws dropped at your reply, and you simply continued eating, a victorious grin on your face. Fred looked down and fished the note out of his pocket, unfolding the smooth parchment to reveal your tidy penmanship. 
Now who’s the flustered one? you know where to find me if you need me xx
You were so going to win. 
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iii. the serenade
You found yourself sitting on the bench watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice—it was Fred’s idea to show up to as many of them as possible to really sell the whole “fake dating” thing. You didn’t mind all that much, as you got bored easily and liked to have a change of scenery every so often while you were studying. 
A loud, abrupt screech caused you to look up from your textbook and you winced, covering your ears. 
“You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…” a melodic voice began flowing across the stadium. Confused, you set your book down and stood up, looking around for the source of the noise. 
“You’d be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…” 
Fred suddenly appeared from the commentator’s box, holding a microphone. He casually leaned against the pole before sliding down and hitting the bleachers, gracefully making his way down the steps. 
“...And I thank God I’m alive…” his eyes remained focused on you, blazing gold and green. “You’re just too good to be true…” 
“What the—”
He spun around and pointed at you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a childish grin, “...Can’t take my eyes off of you.”
“HIT IT, WOOD!” you heard someone (was that Lee?) yell, and music began blasting from the speakers.
Your friends were eyeing you with delight, fully entertained by the fact that you had absolutely no clue what was happening. Fred continued singing while he sauntered down the bleachers with a grace that you had never seen. 
“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright
I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night
I love you, baby, trust in me when I say
Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray
Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay
And let me love you, baby, let me love you”
A blush coated your cheeks as he finally approached you, taking one of your hands in his and twirling you around. He held your gaze the entire time, eyes alight with what looked like genuine joy and passion. The rest of your classmates joined in as they crowded around you, joining together in one voice. 
It was impossible to hold back the smile creeping up your face as Fred continued to sing—he was undeniably charming, and you had to admit, this was well worth suffering a brief loss for. 
“Oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…” the final lyrics left his mouth and everyone burst into applause. He made a show of bowing dramatically and kissing your hand in an exaggerated motion. 
You rolled your eyes at the overly extravagant gesture. But deep down, you had enjoyed every second of the impromptu serenade. 
Within minutes after it ended, Fred’s musical spectacle was the talk of the school. Students nudged each other in the corridors as you passed by, whispering words of encouragement, saying how they wished for a relationship like yours, and wondering where they could possibly find someone like Fred. 
You felt him slip something into your robe’s pocket. Fred had sidled up next to you as you headed up the stairs to the common room, still grinning widely. 
“2-1,” he reminded you, kissing your cheek before turning to the Fat Lady and uttering the password. He stepped through the portrait hole and turned back to wait for you, then walked all the way inside. “Better continue that game of catch up, I might just steal the title of ‘best fake partner ever’ from you.”
There’s that beautiful smile, the note read. Keep it on for me, will you?
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iv. the nightmare
Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, because it was 3:27 a.m. and you were wide awake after barely squeezing in a few hours of sleep. 
Nothing you did worked; even the Potion for Dreamless Sleep had failed to keep the nightmares at bay. You didn’t last long before jolting awake, beads of sweat forming at your forehead and chest heaving with raggedy, jagged breaths. 
After several minutes of tossing and turning you gave up, quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to the common room. The fireplace was on, indicating that someone was already there—
“Y/N?” Fred turned around from his spot on the couch to look at you. “What’re you doing up at this hour?”
You yawned, “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Finishing an assignment,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Sheets of parchment, a vial of ink, and several books were spread out on the coffee table. “You?”
“Nothing,” you lied, sitting down next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”
He didn’t miss the hoarse tone in your voice nor your tear-stained face, stopping what he was doing to fully focus on you. “Now I know that’s not true. What’s bothering you, really?”
“I said I’m fine, just can’t sleep.” You let out a shuddering sigh and attempted to will the tears away, but your vision began to blur. “Go finish your work—”
“Hey.” Fred’s voice was soft. “Come here.”
His arms gingerly wrapped around your trembling frame to envelop you into a tight hug. He reached one hand up to smooth out your hair as you shook with silent sobs, your hands curling  into the fabric of his robes as if holding onto him would keep you from slipping away and losing yourself again. 
Fred was never one to be patient, but he knew that you just needed this moment free of chaos. So he waited, laying there with you as he continued murmuring soothing words into your ear, gently rubbing your back; he’d wait for as long as he’d need to. 
You didn’t know how much time passed until the tears ran themselves dry and your throat felt like it had been scraped raw. 
“Want to tell me what happened?” he suggested. “But only if you’re comfortable, that is.”
You hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him. Maybe he’d think you were strange…but seeing how he looked so genuine in that moment changed your mind. 
“I lost you…I lost everyone. I watched you die, Fred.” Your voice was cracked and raw, which sent a pang through his chest. The image of Fred’s lifeless body trapped between the rubble flashed across your vision, feeling as if it was wrapping its cold fingers around your throat. “I watched you all die and I couldn’t save you.”
“But I’m alive and well right now, aren’t I?” he assured you calmly, “I’ll be here for as long as you want me around. You’ll have to fight to the death to get rid of me.”
Managing a broken laugh, you looked up at him. “Really?”
“Really. What are fake boyfriends for, anyway?” His hand found its place against your cheek, fingers gently skimming across your skin. You leaned into his touch and let out a sigh, lips just barely brushing over his palm.  
“No one’s here, Fred…you don’t need to pretend.”
“I know I don’t.” Any and all traces of half-witted sarcasm were gone; wiped clean off his face. Instead, his eyes were glossed over with concern as they raked over yours. “Figured I could keep you company? Since I didn’t want you to be alone in your head like this.”
“I’d like that.”
He then passed a familiar folded square to you, and you opened it with a smile.
I’m here, whenever you need - F.W
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v. the hospital wing run-in
“For Godric’s sake, how many more times will I have to see you in here?” Madam Pomfrey demanded as she hurried around, setting a metal tray by your bedside. “This is the third time this month.”
“Sorry,” you winced as you shifted your injured leg onto the pillow she’d set out. 
“What is it this time?”
“I broke my ankle.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
Pursing your lips, you elected to tell her the modified version of the story, which was the one where you had tripped while going down the stairs, not the one that included running down the Astronomy Tower after sneaking up there for a dare (the twins’ doing). 
She shook her head in disbelief, glancing over the cuts on your face and fixing the bandages around your foot. “You’ll be in here for a few days. We’ll have to regrow the bones in your foot and ankle…my, how someone can break this many bones just from missing a step, I can’t seem to understand…what are all of you doing here?”
You followed her gaze to where Hermione, Ginny, Cho, and Fred were standing by the hospital wing’s entrance, alight with excitement upon seeing that you were awake.
“Guys—”
“Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that no visitors are allowed at this time! I advise that you all head back,” Madam Pomfrey ordered sharply. 
“But we haven’t seen her all last night and this morning! Can we just stay for a minute,” Hermione begged. “Please?”
The older woman sighed as she scanned your friends (and fake? boyfriend’s) desperate, pleading faces. “...Alright, then. Don’t stay too long and for Godric’s sake, let her breathe.”
They immediately crowded around your bed and Fred walked over to your side, crouching down so that you were eye level with him. 
“There’s my princess,” his charming persona was back in full force, and he smoothly brushed a few stray hairs out of your face. For what felt like the eleventh time, he was swooping in to kiss your cheek. Not that you were counting. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here,” you winked as you attempted to prop yourself into an upright position, but failed, giving up and flopping back down. “Ow. My foot.”
Ginny pretended to throw up on Hermione, who then elbowed her in the stomach.  “Ow!” she yelped. “What was that for?” 
“Let’s leave the happy couple alone,” she hissed, and they slowly backed away to give you some space. 
Fred pulled up a chair next to your bedside, propping his chin in his hand to stare at you. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean for you to end up with five broken bones.”
“And a concussion, a killer headache, and not to mention dozens of sore muscles,” you grimaced, but felt a slight ache in your chest when you realized he looked genuinely guilty. “I don’t blame you, really. I mean, I was just as stupid and reckless. I definitely could’ve been more careful but I wasn’t.”
“I’m supposed to mess up your lipstick,” he groaned, “not your bones.”
“Someone took ‘public displays of affection’ the wrong way,” you said sarcastically, and then there was a brief moment of silence before you both burst into laughter.
“Damn right he di—OW, Hermione!”
“Gin, let’s go!” With that, the two girls left the hospital wing, leaving the two of you alone.
“Why are you here, anyway? Hermione and Ginny are because they’re my friends, and you’re my—”
“—lovely, charming, undeniably handsome boyfriend, of course. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Fred finished your sentence for you.
“Right,” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, “I just can’t seem to get rid of you, can I? It seems like you’re always around.”
“And yet, you don’t push me away,” a smile tugged at his lips. “Which clearly means that I’m just that irresistible. I don’t need a charm or some silly love potion to reel you in.”
“Don’t think that because I’m incapacitated, this game is over,” you warned him. “I will beat your arse to a pulp, and you’ll be twenty Galleons lighter. I bet you’re madly in love with me already.”
“Believe what you want, my darling,” he sing-songed, twirling his wand between his fingers. “But we all know I’ve already won this game.”
“Yeah, right. We’re tied now, by the way. That’s for getting me injured.”
“Oi! You can’t just—”
“Shh…don’t come crying to me ‘till you lose.”
He ended up staying overnight. 
You didn’t protest at all. 
Neither did Madam Pomfrey later that evening after seeing him slumped over on your bed, fast asleep, one hand clutching yours like you were the only thing he had left to lose. 
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vi. the howler 
For once you managed to get to the Great Hall before Fred did. The bloke was always criminally late or ridiculously early to everything; it was almost laughable how there was no in between for him. 
He finally showed up just ten minutes before breakfast was supposed to end, breathing hard with his hair all messed up.
“What’d I miss?” he asked you.
“Nothing,” you responded. “Just another ordinary day…”
A gust of wind suddenly swept through the hallway causing the napkins to flutter in the air. A giant grey owl came swooping down onto the table and landed straight in front of Fred, clutching an envelope in its curved talons. 
“What’s Errol doing here? We’re not supposed to get our daily mail til’ tomorrow,” Ron gawked, “surprised that he’s here given the number of times he’s collapsed mid-delivery—oh blimey Fred, you must be in trouble! You’ve got a Howler!”
Several Gryffindors around you giggled at this. 
With a slight look of confusion and fear, Fred carefully removed the seal on the bright red envelope. Molly Weasley’s booming voice immediately came bursting from the pages. 
“FRED WEASLEY, HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT YOU WERE DATING MY FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW! I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU—Y/N dear, if you’re hearing this, I’m very happy for you and hope to see you at the Burrow soon, I’ll make sure to whip up some homemade custard for you—YOU OUGHT TO TREAT HER RIGHT, BOY, OR ELSE! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I SURE AS MERLIN CAN TAKE YOU RIGHT OUT!”
A silence fell over the entire Great Hall and Fred sat there, in shock. The red envelope folded itself up and then burst into flames, its ashes crumbling to the floor. 
“I’ve never seen him turn that red,” George sniggered. “You’re bloody brilliant, Y/N.”
“Y-you did this?” Fred spluttered. 
“Can’t say I didn’t,” you hummed, patting his head affectionately. “Your mum was bound to find out, one way or another.”
“And you thought this was the best idea?”
“Aww, is little Freddie all embarrassed?” you teased. “Never thought I’d live to see that day.”
“Quit gloating,” the redhead grumbled. “You haven’t won yet. Better sleep with one eye open tonight.”
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vii. the pda competition, part ∞
As it turned out, continuing to slip into your fake relationship only became more fun as the days and weeks dragged on. And being competitive only added to the fun, as you were scrambling to one-up each other. 
You often opted to hold his hand when walking from place to place, which wasn’t difficult given that you were almost always with him now and had to sell the idea that you really were together. His hands were rough and calloused from all those hours working on joke shop prototypes, but they were still surprisingly comforting. A way to keep you grounded when your head got stuck in the clouds. 
Fred’s signature move was, of course, dropping random kisses on your cheek when you didn’t expect it. Sometimes, when he was feeling bolder than usual, that would change to the tender spot between your ear and jaw, your shoulder, or your nose. And each of those times he made sure they were extra drawn-out and that you were in a crowded area so others would see it. The courtyard. The Quidditch pitch. The classroom (two of those incidents were in Potions, much to Snape’s dismay. He didn’t even bother taking points off due to being too disgusted).
“I have a massive exam today,” he declared loudly to you as you stood in front of his upcoming class together. “I think I’m going to need a kiss.”
“Why?” you scoffed. “What do you need that for?”
“For good luck,” Fred said, “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”
“You…want a kiss for good luck?” you started.  
“I’m waiting…” he sang, face turned slightly in an invitation. You sighed and went up on your tiptoes, doing as he asked. “Thank you. But you have terrible aim…you missed.”
“I fear you’re having way too much fun with this,” you muttered. “Don’t make excuses. My lips are not going near yours unless they absolutely need to now.”
“Oh come on, you know you’re having loads of fun too,” he called out as he walked into the classroom. “Catch you later, sweetheart!”
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viii. the butterbeer (alt: the pda competition, part ∞)
It was the day of another Hogsmeade outing and you were hand-in-hand with Fred as you walked down the cobblestone streets together. You had planned to spend the day alone for the most part and join Cho for a meal, but Fred had cornered you at breakfast and insisted you go on a date with him.
“To keep up the façade,” he insisted. “Wouldn’t people find it odd if the castle’s favorite couple wasn’t together?” 
You nodded and didn’t protest further; you had no energy to do so anyway. It was far too cold for your taste; you had been dragged out without having time to grab your gloves, blowing hot hair into your hands that were steadily growing numb. 
“Love,” he called for you as he took your hands in his, “oh, your fingers feel like ice.”
“No…shit…” your teeth chattered as you attempted to respond steadily. “Might lose ‘em if we don’t hurry up and get inside—”
“Wait one second,” Fred said as you two stopped right outside the Three Broomsticks, wasting no more time in taking his gloves off and handing them to you to put on, while he wrapped his house scarf around your neck. “There. Let’s head in.”
“But—”
“Boyfriend duties, remember?” he winked at you as he pushed the door open, holding it for you to step inside first. “Come on. I think a butterbeer or two’ll warm you up.”
Fred’s hand remained on the small of your back, pressing in gently to lead you to a cozy booth in the back. The added warmth felt quite nice, you thought, but you also wondered how he managed to stay like a human furnace when it the weather outside was so dreadfully cold. 
It was hard not to stare at him; catching his gaze every so often while sipping your drink. His hair was all tousled from the frigid winds; you took notice of the way it slightly curled out at the ends, glowing under the hazy yellow bar lights. It was annoyingly endearing how he could look so flawless without any effort and even more so that you didn’t have anything snarky to say. 
“Fred, I think we’re being followed…” you whispered as you scanned the near vicinity, fingers brushing against the rim of your mug. There in the far opposite corner sat Padma, Ernie, Cedric, and Cho, attempting to look nonchalant as if they weren’t half-stalking you but they were doing a rather terrible job at it. You quickly looked away.
“So? Isn’t that what we want—for people to see us?” he countered with a tone of confidence. His voice dropped low as he continued to speak to you. “Why don’t we give them a show? No need to be so private.”
Your face burned. “What do you—”
“Not like that,” he chuckled lowly, “what did you think I meant?”
“I…”
Fred paused, then raised his hand and brushed something off your cheek with his thumb. “You’ve got something on your face.”
“Oh, so we’re playing that game now, are we?”
“Indeed, my lady.”
You scoffed quietly and imitated his motion, reaching up to smooth out the crease that had formed between his brows. “Put a smile on your face, why don’t you? You look better that way.”
“I always look good, though.”
“I look better than your greasy arse.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Oh yeah?” you challenged. “I’d like to see you tr—”
Before you could say anything else and before he could stop himself from what he was doing, Fred placed a hand on the nape of you neck and pulled you in, kissing you without another word. All protests left behind flew right out the window (along with your morals, too, you thought) and for a split second, it almost didn’t feel like you were pretending at all. 
When you broke apart eventually, breaths a little heavy, neither of you needed to look over to see that your friends were gaping in shock, mouths dropped wide open. Sure, Fred was confident and cocky and you were equally so, but both of you would be lying if you said this didn’t take you by surprise. 
“You still keeping track?” His voice still had that low, almost husky tone to it. He was cupping your cheek now, and you let him keep doing so. “There can only be one victor, right?”
“Wouldn’t forget it,” you exhaled. “You think we look convincing enough right now?”
“Without a shadow of a doubt.”
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ix.  the thunderstorm 
The day’s exciting Care of Magical Creatures lesson was cut thirty minutes short due to the heavy downpour that had suddenly came crashing down, bringing with it a booming thunderstorm and soaking all your clothes within minutes. 
“Well, that’s it fer today, everyone,” Hagrid announced, “now let’s head back inside, don’ want yeh to catch a cold, we’ll continue when the weather lets up…”
You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and flipped the hood on over your head, eyes narrowing as you stared up at the suddenly stormy grey sky. It just had to be on the one day you got to go outside and do something exciting, damn it….
It was freezing, nearly as horrible as that one day in Hogsmeade, and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to simply curl up by the fireplace with Hermione, the Patil twins, and Cho, and talk all evening long. If you could even make it back to the castle in one, unfrozen piece, maybe you’d at least get your hands on some hot chocolate from the kitchens…
A warm hand found yours amidst the strong winds, and all of a sudden you didn’t feel so cold anymore. 
As if he had read your mind, Fred said, “how about we sneak into the kitchens and grab something to drink? Hot chocolate, perhaps?”
“Sounds perfect,” you smiled and he draped an arm over your shoulders, bringing you into his side. It felt so natural now, like this wasn’t part of some long-standing bet to fool the whole school; as if you were just two best friends trying to keep warm in subpar temperatures. And it was almost too easy to get used to it. 
“Oblivious idiots. I told them for years that they’d be perfect together and it’s only this year that they start going out,” George exclaimed from several yards behind, walking side-by-side with Lee Jordan. “Dunno why it took them so long.”
“Love takes time, obviously,” said Lee as he watched Fred lean into your ear and say something, and you giggled lightly in response, “and now, what matters is that I finally have an excuse to make fun of them during Quidditch matches.”
“Oh—good point.”
“And you’ve noticed that he stopped pranking her? Unlike him, isn’t it?” 
“Wait…” George paused as he took in Lee’s questions. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization. “He’s utterly whipped, that git.”
“What happens when boyfriend duties overcome prankster duties…this is perfect. Professor Flitwick owes me 2 galleons. I called it that he’d fall first!” 
“You bet on them?” George squawked. “With Flitwick?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t either,” Lee laughed, “I know you did too.”
The expression on George’s face shifted into one of defeat. “I lost,” he muttered, “I owe McGonagall 3 galleons.”
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x. verum exeat (let the truth come out) 
The Gryffindor common room was alight with chatter once again. After a long, grueling week of exam revisions, Quidditch practice, and a brutal match to be remembered, Lee and the twins decided that a small celebration was in order. They had originally planned on inviting half the damn school but after arguing with Hermione, had to shrink the party down to just their smaller, usual friend group (they swore up and down that they’d clean up and not get detention like last time, but she wouldn’t buy it). 
But you knew that if things had the Weasley twins’ names pasted next to them, they’d be far from peaceful; as far as you could possibly get—no matter how big or small. 
“Oh, there you are,” you heard someone say from behind, and turned around to see that it was Hermione.
“Not drinking?”
“Someone’s got to take care of the boys after they go wild, right?” she explained. “Besides…I can’t stand the taste of firewhisky. It burns.”
You offered a tired half-smile and agreed. “Yeah. You’re right.”
Hermione seemed to be deep in thought for a moment until she told you, “You’re very lucky, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” 
“To have Fred, that is. To find someone who’s that in love with you, it’s quite rare.” 
“Oh, please,” you tried to suppress a laugh, “I told you why we’re doing what we’re doing.” 
“And?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at you, “feelings change. Bet or no bet, he cares about you and anyone would be crazy not to see that. Ronald is half-blind and he can tell, too. You can’t possibly tell me that everything you’ve done up to this point has been a lie.” 
“It’s meant nothing to me,” you said bitterly. “I hate him.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. And it doesn’t help that he’s everywhere,” you stopped to take a swig of firewhisky, “and I can’t stand it!”
“Do you not, really?”
“I do, but I—”
“You what?”
“I just hate him!” 
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think? I hate everything about him!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I hate the way he always tries to compete with me, I hate the way he doesn’t take things seriously, I hate that stupid, annoying little smirk he has on his face half the time I see him—”
You inhaled quickly; it felt like you’d just drank an entire vital of Veritaserum with the way that words were tumbling out of your mouth. Hermione gave you a look that seemed to say ‘Go on,’ so you did, “—I hate the way he walks down to the Great Hall every morning with his annoyingly perfect messy hair, I hate the way he risks freezing his arse off to give me his favorite gloves so that I don’t get hypothermia, I hate the way it’s so easy for him to kiss—borderline snog me like it’s nothing, I hate how this is all just supposed to be a game of pretend, and—and most of all, I hate the way he made me fall in love with him without even trying. I hate the way I don't actually hate him. Not even close, not even a little bit…not even at all…”
“You…really mean that?”
You whirled around to see that Fred was standing right behind you with his hands behind his back, eyes hopeful, and you felt your heart drop down to your stomach. “Fred—”
“Y/N, I—”
Suddenly it seemed like the walls were closing in on you from all sides, the room spinning; and then, everything around you jumbled into one chaotic mess of noise and color. Without looking to see either his or Hermione’s reactions, without caring that half the room had stopped to see what was going on, you pushed past your friends and quickly clambered out of the portrait hole. 
“What was that about?” Ron’s nose crinkled in confusion. “So much for being a cute couple. Now this is just sad.”
“Will you shut it, Ronald,” Hermione whacked him on the shoulder. 
“OW—”
“Stop being so dramatic! Don’t let me catch you drinking even one more shot or I will drag your arse back to bed,” she snapped. 
“Pleeeease do, I would lov—ow, ow, OW! OKAY!” Ron exclaimed as she pinched his ear and began dragging him away. “Okay! I’ll leave them alone, I’ll stop…”
Chest heaving and vision blurring with tears, you rushed outside, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was quiet in the courtyard asides from the faint trickling of water but that did little to calm you down; it was still too loud, too chaotic, too much. Sitting down at the marbled edge of one of the fountains, you tried to catch your breath and balance, but the world still kept spinning…it felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning; for Merlin’s sake. All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear forever, or jump off the Astronomy tower and fly off to a distant land. You didn’t want to have to worry about how you poured your entire damn heart out in the middle of the common room about your fake boyfriend.
Your fake boyfriend that you realized, with horror, you had begun to develop not-fake feelings for. 
A chill ran through you at that moment and you shivered.
Then the feeling of something warm—a thick coat—being draped over your shoulders shook you out of your trance. You instinctively slid it tighter around yourself.
“Thought I might find you out here,” said Fred. You opened your mouth, ready to ask how in Godric’s name he knew where you were at all times when he didn’t even have the Maurader’s Map anymore, but stopped. This was Fred Weasley, and you had spent an unhealthy amount of time around each other over the past several months that he had to have picked up on your little habits. He was more observant than he let on. 
“What are you doing out here?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. 
“I couldn’t leave you alone outside to freeze, could I?” he asked, sitting down next to you. “What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”
“Please, just…” you inhaled sharply, “I can’t do this. You won. I lost. The game’s over, Weasley.” 
“On a last-name basis now, are we? Ouch,” he said jokingly, but dropped the teasing lilt in his voice when he noticed your eyes starting to water. “Talk to me, Y/N.”
“It just isn’t fair,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. 
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not fair,’” your voice faltered, “you’re not supposed to do that. To do this.”
“Do what?”
“To sabotage the bet. To make me lose track of the scores.”
“Well, I stopped counting, you know,” Fred admitted, tucking a hair behind your hair. “There’s no need to keep track anymore, I think we’ve done enough convincing, don’t you think?”
“But that’s the problem!” your voice cracked as you finally turned to look at him. “It isn’t that I’m probably going to be dozens of Galleons poorer after this. It’s that I’m feeling something I shouldn’t, that…that you made me fall in love with you—”
“Y/N—”
“—I hate the way I care about you far more than I should,” you continued on, “and I hate myself even more for even wishing what we had was real. Because it was all fake, Fred, and you know it. We were faking it, and—”
“Y/N,” he repeated more sternly this time, causing you to stop mid sentence. “Look, I already told you I stopped keeping track. After that night in the common room….that’s when I realized I couldn’t. Lee damn near had to hit me over the head and force-feed me Veritaserum to admit that I was in deep. Galleons and glory be damned, I didn’t care about any of that anymore; it was easy for me to pretend when I was already in love with you.”
“But we weren’t supposed to fall in love, that was the rule,” you sniffed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I thought we were supposed to follow the rules.”
Fred’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I think some rules are made to be broken.”
And then, he was closing the gap and connecting your lips in a deep kiss. The gentle motion cut through the chilly evening air, washing over you in a blazing heat that had you melting into a haze of firewhisky, adrenaline, and something that smelled distinctly like a crackling log fire and cinnamon. 
You had kissed him multiple times before this, but this one felt different than all the rest. It didn’t feel like you were doing it for show in the slightest; it felt genuine and warm and so real. 
And the biggest difference was that you never wanted it to come to an end. 
“So?” The grin on his face was palpable; contagious, as you broke apart, “What do you say, we stop faking it?”
“Are you fake breaking up with me?” you gasped and pretended to look surprised. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“I’m asking to real-date you, darling,” he said.
“There’s no money on the line this time?”
“No,” he hummed as he leaned forward to kiss you a second time and pretended to think for a second, “but there might be something else on the line instead.”
“And what is that ‘something else?’”
“You’ll have to wait a few years and see.”
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xi. the promise 
—FOUR YEARS LATER—
Fred was a great planner, of course. “Brilliant,” Harry would say, “absolutely brilliant.” He might’ve been a jokester, but he was a very organized jokester. He always knew what he was going to do and when. 
So when it came to you, he thought he had a plan. He thought he had it planned for years; he was thinking fireworks, extravagant displays in the sky, taking you on a sunset ride across Romania on one of Charlie’s dragons. Something to match your free and daring spirit. 
But, the moment ended up presenting itself on its own. 
It was an ordinary night with yours and Hermione’s families joining the Weasleys for a quiet weekend at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was listening intently as Mr. Granger and Harry explained the function of rubber ducks and the Internet in great detail, and the rest of you chatted with your parents,  Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Granger by the kitchen counter about post-graduation plans. 
Mrs. Granger had made an off-hand, passing comment about how lovely your silver bracelet—the one with charms of yours’ and Fred’s initials and Patronuses dangling from it—looked on your wrist. And then Fred was saying, “I know something else that would look great on her,” and taking a small box out of his pocket and flipping it open, revealing a blinding bright, silvery diamond ring. 
Even as shouts of realization and cheers of joy rose up from around the kitchen, the world seemed to fade away into complete silence when he put the ring on your finger and encircled his arms around your torso, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear, 
“I told you there was something else, didn’t I?” 
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tags: @xhanthexzoria @arkofblake @fictionalsimp449 @polar-myst @katelikeslaughs @lmllsl @schlattandcompany
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astonmartinii ¡ 1 year ago
Text
a spoonful of sugar | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader
cheffing it up all over the calendar
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 124,509 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: WOAH WHAT IT'S OSCAR'S HOME RACE WEEK? that mean's it's time to whack out the aussie cook book mama piastri got me for christmas and man this fish has a cool name. BARRAMUNDI is a fish very commonly used in aussie cuisine (real ones know it from masterchef australia). so here i've pan seared it with some herbs and some lemons and take it from me it SLAPS, but you know what i hope slaps more? oscar this weekend... LET'S GO BABY
[as always this recipe is on my website and will be in my 2024 f1 calendar recipe book coming out soon]
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user1: FAVES OMG PARENTS
user2: my favourite thing is where i read intently all of y/n's recipe and continue to make pot noodles
yourusername: pot noodles are good i can't even be mad
oscarpiastri: can confirm it did in fact SLAP
yourusername: oh wow piastri stamp of approval that's basically a michelin star
oscarpiastri: tbf i would eat a roll of paper towels if it was you who gave it to me
yourusername: okay.... I'LL TAKE IT
user3: can we please study these people cause why is saying you'd eat paper towels is the pinnacle of romance
user4: i NEED the recipe book STAT
landonorris: i was on board with this whole cooking thing but FISH IS WHERE I DRAW THE LINE
yourusername: oh boy we got a BABY ON THE LINE
landonorris: i'm allowed to like what i like my MUM said so
yourusername: bro is an elite athlete and exclusively eats chicken nuggies
landonorris: @oscarpiastri tell your girlfriend to stop bullying me
oscarpiastri: i'm on her side buddy maybe explore the culinary world
landonorris: that's it i'm going to HR
yourusername: try it girly the mclaren HR team LOVE my food
user5: the dynamics since oscar and y/n got comfortable in the sport are my favourite things
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oscarpiastri
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liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 793,288 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: first time on the podium at my home race and the feeling is unreal. so thankful to have my family and love of my life around me, lets keep building on this !!
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user7: THANK THE LORD MCLAREN KEPT THEIR SHIT TOGETHER IN 2024 OSCAR FIRST WIN COMING IN FAST
yourusername: I AM TOTALLY FINE ABOUT THIS AND I AM NOT SOBBING UNCONTROLLABLY BECAUSE I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU AT ALL TIMES I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU TOO SO MUCH AND I LOVE SHARING THIS WITH YOU AND SEEING THE WORLD WITH YOU AND REACHING OUR DREAMS TOGETHER
user8: are they good?
logansargeant: from the man currently waiting for them to go to dinner and can hear them yelling this stuff to each other... no they are not okay and i don't think they ever have been
yourusername: LOGIE BEAR I AM SORRY I CANNOT CONTAIN MY LOVE FOR OSCAR
oscarpiastri: jealous bitches gonna be bitter
logansargeant: ??? excuse me
oscarpiastri: i'm sorry i got excited... love you logan (just not as much as y/n)
user9: this comment section is once again making me want to sneak into an F1 after party :(
user10: they're just going to dinner they've not even started drinking yet 😭
landonorris: i am proud of you mate - why is y/n dancing around in the kitchen in an apron that says "this chef FUCKS"
yourusername: fashion. (it says oscar piastri in small print right under that)
landonorris: i didn't need to know that
oscarpiastri: let her dance it makes the food taste even better
landonorris: there's definitely no fish right?
yourusername: no fish by order of the fussy child
landonorris: bullying online and in person @maxverstappen1 @charles_leclerc @logansargeant STEP IN
maxverstappen1: eh i'm good i'm looking forward to dinner
charles_leclerc: you're on your own with this one lando
logansargeant: i've learnt not to cross y/n
user11: the piastris invited lando, logan and the rest of the podium? i am soft
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 162,994 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: a big post podium celebration dinner at the piastri house to celebrate oscar's home podium. first off, super duper proud. second, since it was a strictly no fish evening, i decided to go for classic aussie meat pies and grilled kangaroo LOL but there was only clean plates at the end so i'll defo consider adding it to the recipe book
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user12: i am getting a sugar rush this is so sweet
logansargeant: thank you for having me, a solid 9/10 - one point docked because kangaroos are cute
yourusername: wait until you run into one on a cold, wet evening
oscarpiastri: they are actually very scary and have a stealing problem
yourusername: tbf i think we all have a stealing problem
oscarpiastri: you definietly do ... cause you stole my heart
logansargeant: EW NOT ON MY COMMENT THREAD
user13: i'm so lonely
maxverstappen1: i definitely did not think i was going to eat kangaroo this week but here we are
yourusername: did you like it?
maxverstappen1: i was shocked at how much i did
oscarpiastri: babe get that on the review cover of the recipe book this guy got three championships that has to mean something
yourusername: good idea i'm on it
maxverstappen1: ???
landonorris: you fed me kanga and roo from winnie the pooh? Y/N YOU FED ME KANGA AND ROO FROM WINNIE THE POOH?
yourusername: you eat chicken all the time and you don't feel sorry for chicken little
oscarpiastri: she ate you up there PUN INTENDED
landonorris: i've learnt my lesson i'm giving up here
charles_leclerc: i for one had a blast and will be asking for y/n to cater my birthday party
oscarpiastri: FOR A PRICE
charles_leclerc: you her guard dog or something?
oscarpiastri: duh? have you seen her?
yourusername: i would love to (idk monagasque cuisine though so give me notice)
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 152,339 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, logansargeant
yourusername: IMOLA, IMOLA MY HEART LIVES IN ITALIA AND MY STOMACH LIVES WITH ITALIAN FOOD. for real. the track is cute and whatnot but the real star is the pasta, the pizza, the gelato but most importantly the PASTA. here is two dishes that'll feature in the imola chapter: a burrata dish and a ragu !! oscar (and lando) certified so you know it's good, oscar even helped so it's defo beginner friendly!!
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user17: is it a collective f1 driver experience to be ass at cooking
danielricciardo: yes
maxverstappen1: yes
oscarpiastri: yes
landonorris: yes
charles_leclerc: YES
oscarpiastri: if i'm slow this weekend it's because i couldn't stop eating the ragu sorry mclaren
yourusername: i made sure no gelato until sunday so please don't take me out back and shoot me over giving him pasta
mclarenf1: bring some pasta for social media admin and no one has to know
yourusername: deal
landonorris: this is a public instagram comment section
charles_leclerc: why is mine always so darn crunchy
yourusername: inpatient, common amongst you drivers. oscar was once so impatient when boiling an egg he got it out and it was just watery egg
oscarpiastri: you said you wouldn't tell anyone :(
yourusername: no babe i'm proud !!! you've come so far
oscarpiastri: it's true i made my own omelette the other day :)
yourusername: and it was yummy
oscarpiastri: and it was yummy :)
user18: the positive affirmations in this relationship really keep me going
yourusername: he IS the MOST beautiful racer in all of the lands
oscarpiastri: she IS the PRETTIEST chef in all of the kitchens
oscarpiastri
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 775,431 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: not the race we wanted in spain, but we're still in good spirits and in the conversation at the top of the standings! also helps that when you get taken out of the race your girlfriend shovels the BEST paella ever into your mouth until you finally smile
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user19: bro got a girlfriend and personal chef all in one
yourusername: food is my love language and when babe gets twatted into the barriers by SOMEONE i will personally feed him some of his favourite food
user20: she's holding back
yourusername: PR said i couldn't say anything...
oscarpiastri: i love youuuuuuuuu and i love your paella i think it's laced with crack
logansargeant: @fia GET HIS ASS
yourusername: LOGIE BEAR?
logansargeant: i'm sorry, we're pretty desperate for the p7 here at williams
yourusername: i respect that
oscarpiastri: Y/N????
yourusername: MORE PAELLA
carlossainz55: big respect for the paella, definitely looks authentic
yourusername: OBVIOUSLY IT'S AUTHENTIC DO YOU THINK MY QUALIFICATIONS ARE A JOKE
yourusername: lol sorry thank you actually SPANISH F1 DRIVER APPROVED PAELLA
oscarpiastri: @fernandoalo_oficial can we get another good review please and thank you
fernandoalo_oficial: looks good, need a taste to be sure
yourusername: it's coming your way (please return the tupperware tho please)
mclarenf1: you'll come back stronger oscar 💪
oscarpiastri: fuelled by love and paella
yourusername: fuelled by VENOM AND THE WILL TO WIN AND CRUSH THE COMPETITION
oscarpiastri: and that 🫶
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note: here's a short and sweet one that MAY return to finish out this fictional season ... i also just love this kind of set up for an imagine. it's a lil short i know but the CHRISTMAS CRAFTS ARE COMING IN FAST AND THE CROSS STITCH CHRISTMAS CARDS ARE SLAYING THE HOUSE DOWN
3K notes ¡ View notes
alluringnectar ¡ 9 months ago
Text
my baby
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pairings; loser!ellie williams x cheerleader! reader
cw; interalized homophobia, angst, tribbing, fingering (r! recieving), fluff, bullying (kinda), making out, slur, petnames like “baby & princess” , not proof read yet!
wc; 17k
life has never been better, you were handed the world at the age of 6. you never had to worry about having no friends, or not having the latest designer bag, and certainly not having everybody wrapped around your finger. you were a cheerleader & from that only, everyone respected you. you dedicated yourself into looks: always on diets, hitting the gyms, getting your nails done, having the most expensive makeup and so much more. you were the most outgoing girl known to mankind, never missing a rager or party. your friend groups were mainly other cheerleaders, and the jocks on the football team. they were assholes, but you didn’t care because so were you.
you never once paid attention in class, especially english. clicking your pen and having your eyes everywhere but the board. you snap out of your daze when your teacher announces that there will be a partner project, and she would assign the groups. you hear your name, and you pray that you get one of your friends but instead you hear the name ellie williams.
“you cannot be fucking serious” you mutter under your breath, looking at ellie whose a row infront of you.
“what was that?” the teacher asked you. “nothing.” you mock her tone, earning a laugh from your classmates.
“alright then everybody get to your partners we don’t have all day!” she claps her hands, urging everyone to switch their seats.
you stay in your seat, motioning ellie to
come where you are. why would you have to move? ellie rolled her eyes, not having the best impression of you either. “look,” ellie says “i wouldn’t have picked you either.” you scoff, “great to know we’re on the same page!” you look at her green eyes, and the way she flutters her eyelash. you were about to say something until you felt a tap on your shoulder.
it was a jock, and you end up talking to him for the rest of the period, not caring to look back at ellie, who was doing all the work. “another prissy bitch.” ellie thinks to herself.
as soon as the bell rings, ellie packs her stuff and leaves as soon as she could. she sees her friends, dina and jesse, and she sighs in relief. “you would not believe who i got paired up with.” dina and jesse both furrow their brows in unison. “a CHEERLEADER! i swear this world is against me, i already know im gonna have to do this project with myself.” dina replies, “yikes , you have it unlucky. i would NOT wanna be you.” jesse laughs and that makes ellie roll her eyes & reply “thanks dina that makes me feel a million times better.” “well jesse and I have to get going, good luck with her!” dina yells while grabbing jesse by the hand and dragging him through the hallways. ellie sighs and puts her back against the locker.
you put your bag down, and flop down on your bed chewing on some protein bars after practice. you grab your laptop and check your grade book. and thats when you see it. you’re gonna fail english class. “shit shit shit!” you tell yourself, pacing around your room in circles. you couldn’t give to shits if you were failing english, but what you did care about is being on academic probation. if you’re put on academic probation, you won’t be able to cheer. you can’t let that happen. so you grabbed your phone, and started texting everyone for ellie’s number. when you finally receive a message with her number, you smile and immediately text her.
“heyyy”
“who is this?”
“your partner in english.”
“why are you texting me?”
“do you wanna come over tomorrow to work on it?”
“is this a joke?”
“ why would i be? i have practice, so is 7:30 good?”
“yeah, ill be there just give me the address.”
it’s the next day and you come from practice drenched in sweat. you go into the shower, making sure its cold so you can relax. as you get out, you put on a robe and some uggs slipper and you hear the bell ring.
you walk over to answer, the fact ellie was supposed to come over completely slipped your mind. you open the door, and you see ellie.
“shit! is it 7:30 already?”
ellie takes full notice you’re in nothing but a robe and she blushes.
“yeah.”
“fuck im so sorry- practice had me exhausted-“
ellie reassures you, telling you it was okay because she found it kinda cute that your hair was wet and your lips were plump.
“here ellie, you can come inside, just stay in my room, i’ll get changed and i’ll be there in a sec.
ellie nods, and sinks down into your bed. she takes a moment to take in everything in your room. she took note of the way your walls were stripped pink and white to the little ballerina jewelry box that looked antique.
you walk into your room handing her some snacks. “do you want some?” “sure.”
ellie says. & now shes starting to think you’re not a total bitch.
this time, you ended up getting no work done but for a different reason. you spent your time gossiping to ellie, about who slept with who, or who did what. you never realized how pretty ellie truly was. her freckles decorated her face like how constellations decorate the sky. you look down into her lips, and ellie stops talking about whatever she was. ellie and you spend a brief moment just gazing into each other’s eyes.
you both get flustered and she breaks the silence by saying “um- do you have a hair tie?” “yeah of course here” and you hand her one.
you look at the time and gasp, it’s almost 11:30. were you guys really talking for that long? “ellie, do you wanna sleep over? or i can walk yo-“ “no, ill sleep over it’s fine.” you nod. grabbing blankets for her, “you can sleep on my bed i’ll sleep on my couch.” ellie scoffs “no fucking way, i’m not taking your bed, i can have the couch.”
and due to both of your guys’ stubbornness, you are laying next to eachother, in the same bed staring at the ceiling. you look over and you see ellie has fallen asleep. she looked so beautiful and her front hair pieces fell on her face, capturing her beautiful. you move your hand to tuck it but then you get this wave of disgust. not to her, but to yourself.
what the fuck am i doing? I can’t like girls. am i stupid? i’m not gonna be seen as some dyke on the cheerleader team. my reputation would be ruined.
you ended up falling asleep teary eyed, scared to accept if these feelings are really true and maybe they’ll go away.
it’s almost summer, and the feelings are still lingering and infact they are stronger than before. after acing the project, you still
continued to hang out with ellie. you and her hung out every friday, and it became a ritual. you were starting to fall in love with her, and you knew there was no way out. everytime your asshole friends said anything about her that was negative, you jumped to defend her name like a knight. “you know the project deadline was months ago, while do you still hangout with her.” slightly irritated you snap, “she isn’t even bad once you get to know her, she’s funny and sweet.”
it wasn’t any different for ellie either, expect she was 100% convinced you were straight. you never once spoke of your sexuality to her, and for any matter guys in general but why would you like her? she grew up playing with worms, while you grew up going on constant vacations. but even though she thought it would never happen, she asked the universe for this one thing. she prayed to a lord she didn’t even believe in, hoping he will for once listen to her.
God works in mysterious ways because you’re sitting in ellie’s room drinking vodka blasting music. it’s odd how vodka can make somebody so honest. ellie was rambling about a story with an ex she had named cat, and drama between the two. she developed a habit of gossiping, probably from you. to make sure you’re still listening, she asks you. “how about you, any boy trouble?” its silent, and you look at her and start sobbing. ellie’s heart drops down to her stomach and instantly grabs you, pulling you close to her. “hey was it something i said? im sorry-“ “no!” you manage to yell out between your broken sobs. “i don’t think i like guys.” “what?” ellie says, shocked from what she heard.
“when i look at you, it’s not the same for any guy. sure i’ve made out with guys, but not even that gives me the same feeling of when im talking to you. i want it to be you so bad, ellie.” you hiccup, tears staining your eyes. “but this is all new for me, and i hate myself for being this way, i had everything anyone could ask for and it feels like im throwing it all away.”
ellie’s mind is going in all directions, the fact you like her. the fact shes finally getting her prayers answered. she pushes it to the side, because what you need is comfort. ellie holds you tight. so tight, you cannot wiggle out of her grasp. “hey baby, it all works out at the end, your existence isn’t a sin, people who truly love you, will accept you for who you are. and you don’t have to figure things out right now, take your time.” ellie replies, hovering her hand over your face to wipe your tears.
you’re looking up at her, inching your face closer to hers. she leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. you’re eager for more, so you grab her hair from behind and sloppily slid your mouth inside. ellie pulls away from the kiss, to get air, saliva connecting you guys to each other.
“hey els?” you say softly, having your knees tucked in.
“yeah?”
“since school is ending, there’s gonna be a rager. do you wanna come?”
ellie smiles at you, accepting your offer.
“i’ll be there.”
it’s the day of the rager, and ellie’s at her house with dina and jesse on her bed. “are you sure you really wannq go?” dina asks. ellie’s throwing her clothes everywhere, looking for an outfit to wear. “yeah,” jesse adds on “she doesn’t look like somebody who would hang out with you, what if this is all a prank?” ellie stops to look at them. “guys, i know you’re concerned but trust me on this, okay?” they nod their heads. “whatever happens, you can always tell us okay? whatever you choose to do , we’re with you.” ellie smiles and pulls them into a group hug. she’s wearing a wife pleaser, red flannel, and some jeans. shes tying her converse, she walks out the door, saying “wish me luck!”
she arrives at the house, and the music is so loud she can hear it from where she’s at. nervously she turns to twist the door knob and instantly she goes looking for you. she’s happy today after what happen yesterday, and she’s thinking to herself nothing can change her mood. until she saw you. you had a red solo cup in your hand. you were with a jock, who made it pretty clear he wanted you. was ellie a joke? was everything you said to her nothing after all? her friends were right. clenched fists, she turns to head out of the party, rushing to her car trying not to cry.
the jock wouldn’t take no for an answer, you’ve made it clear you’re not interested in him. “don’t be like that, i see the way you look at me.” you scrunch up your nose in disgust. “well you must be fucking blind.” and thats when you see in the corner of your eye, ellie. “fuck!” you murmur to yourself. ellie is already going towards the exist. as she’s walking down the steps of the porch. you scream, “wait! it’s not what it looks like, i swear-“
“do you think im a fucking joke? you made me feel like a fool.”
“ellie i swear nothing happened i was-“
“were you telling him your pranked worked? were you laughing about me? it’s done. i hope you had your fun.”
ellie is about to turn your back on you.
“ellie im in love with you!” you yell. loud enough
that people from the outside were looking at what was happening.
ellie looks around, “you’re drunk.”
“yes im drunk but that doesn’t change the fact im in love with you. the man that was talking to me. i was telling him to leave me alone. i only have eyes for you ellie! anybody who knows me has to get to know you first!” you breath starts to hitch, knowing you’re about to cry and how people are listening but you no longer care.
“i use to cry, praying that God took these feelings away. now im praying to God for letting me meet you. God knew I needed you Ellie.”
ellie stands there in disbelief, she doesn’t know what to say but her heart is about to explode. she runs to you, takes your hand and takes sits you in the passenger seat. closing the door, she starts the car and starts driving. she looks over at you, and you’re already staring at her. she places a hand on your thigh, and caresses it. “you’re perfect in every way, ways im not. i couldn’t believe somebody as amazing as you would want me, and im sorry.”
you smile, and place your hand on top of hers, “it’s okay, we were both pretty caught up” you giggle.
she would fight the world to hear that giggle again.
she pulls up to your driveway, and shes about to drive off but you ask her to stay the night. and how could she say no to that pretty face of yours?
it’s all dark, but you hold her hand and she follows you into your room. you play some music on your record player.
“do you like mazzy star els?”
“i dont listen to her much, but her voice is pretty.”
you walk up to her, and hold her by the waist. ellie looks down at you and pressed her lips onto yours. you close your eyes, melting into the kiss. you start getting hungrier for more, and you open your mouth to let her tongue slip into yours. the kisses start getting needier, and she walks you until your laying back on your bed. you straddle her waist, and she puts a hand up your dress causing you to whine.
“you’re okay with this right?”
“of course els, please hurry.”
“please what?”
you look away from her gaze, shyly, you fiddle with the seams of ellies wife pleaser and whisper to her , “please touch me, it can only be you.” and with that, ellie is slipping your dress off. kissing your collarbone all the way down to the welts of your breast. she takes off your matching set of panties and bra. and her cold hands on pinching your nipples make your back arch into her touch. she sucks on your nipples, flicking her tongue on it back and forth earning whimpers from you each and every time.
“n-need you els..” you stutter. “im not going anywhere baby.” she chuckles, her breath on your beast making you close your eyes in pleasure. “im gonna touch you now okay? tell me when to stop.” she slides her fingers between your folds.
“already so wet for me princess” and as she hovers to your face to kiss you, her front pieces of her hair are touching your own face. you’re sloppily making out with her, moaning into her mouth.
then she puts two of her fingers in, feeling you instantly clench around them. you start moaning louder and louder “ellie! ellie faster!” and she listens to you, curling her fingers even faster before hitting you in the g spot. your thighs start shaking. and your grabbing onto ellie’s fore arm, clawing it for any way to feel relief.
your moans reach an all time high and you know you’re almost there. im- im about to cum els!” and she starts sucking on your neck, “let it out for me baby, you deserve it come on.” and you reach your climax, sweating and panting. she takes her fingers out of you and sucks them. “you taste so good, everything about you is so sweet.”
still fucked out, you murmured incoherent sentences. “i wanna feel you against me els, please, please.” and ellie looks at you, grabbing your waist to pull you up. you looked at her in this love dovey expression and her heart skips a beat. “can i take this off?” you ask and she gulps and nods. you take off her flannel. then wife pleaser. then her jeans. leaving her in underwear and her sports bra, which now you’re taking off her underwear.
as for the most part both of you are naked, you place your cunt onto hers. you grind against her lightly. both of you whimpering sweet nothings. “i love you els i love you i love you” as you both of you are sweating, holding onto eachother, kissing as you slide on her and feel both of your holes clenching around nothing. “you’re doing so good f’ me” ellie blabbers. both of you are starting to reach your orgasms as you both moan in a higher octave, clawing at each others back, and feeling yourself twitch.
“i think im gonna cum i think-“ “come with me, be a good girl for me please.” she tells you needly, but you can’t even tease her because you want this just as much, if not more. both of you reach your climax, beads of sweat running down each of your fore heads. you disconnect yourself from her cunt. both of your arousals sticking to each other in a way your bodies seem like they’re made to mold into each other’s.
you collapse onto the back of your bed. ellie crawls to lay on your chest. kissing you over and over again, as a way to praise you. you giggle and run your hands through her hair, massaging her scalp.
“shouldn’t we clean up ellie?” you inquire, and you feel her breath on you again as she says “i wanna stay like this.” you nod and you bring blankets over you guys.
“im in love with you too.” ellie tells you.
“i think you showed me already.” you laughed.
“so are we girlfriends?” ellie asks you, looking up at you.
you kiss ellie, and tell her “if you go to every one of my practices.”
safe to say there was never a practice ellie didn’t go to.
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reiderwriter ¡ 1 year ago
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Okay so I have a small req (Honestly this is more of an hc than anything-but I need to share cuz vshvskhbjks) I feel like Spencer is genuinely so perverted when it comes to his girlfriend??? like if you leave your panties lying around he IS swiping them and he is not ashamed like...he may not do much in public but in private he will grab a handful of your ass or tits when he can like.....In the early seasons, I feel like he'd be a little ashamed but s13+? hell no, especially when it comes to him getting caught being a lil perv gfkjk (FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IF IT ISN'T YOUR CUP OF TEA!!!!)
A/N; Gave this one some ✨️angst✨️ just because I could, but YES TO PERVERTED SPENCER!! YES INDEED!!
Summary; You get to know your coworker well after a decade on the job. You get to know just how much he loves to touch you and just how much you enjoy his hands on you as well. But after prison, something is changed in Spencer Reid.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ Minors DNI. Masturbation (M, F), oral sex (F), hand job, mentions of somewhat public indecency, groping, grinding, etc, unprotected sex, PinV, creampie, dirty talk.
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Spencer Reid had always been a pervert, and it took you six long, quiet months to figure that out. 
When you'd joined the BAU after years of begging for a chance, you were a team expecting field-hardened agents, and for the most part, that's what you'd got. Hotchner was as bureaucratic as they came, Rossi had been at the institution as long as the concept of the BAU had, and the others had some serious qualifications to their names. 
But Spencer Reid was the outlier. He was a bit timid in front of the others, always seemed to put his foot in his mouth when it mattered most and seemed to be patronized around the office a bit until it came to his intellect. 
And you didn't quite know how to act around him until you got to know him very, very well. 
A case in some state or the other had called for emergency motel rooms, unfortunate as some Nascar show or the other was rapidly filling up hotel room spaces everywhere. So, as the two youngest members of the team (and by far the most eager to please), you'd ended up rooming together in a double twin room. 
“So, Spencer, what do you do at night to wind down? Relax after a case?” The motel door had swung shut loudly behind you an awkward three minutes before you started the conversation, and you needed something to break the awkward tension in the room. 
“I… read, I guess?” 
“You're always reading. What book is it today? Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy? Maybe Dickens?” 
In response, he'd just awkwardly held up the book cover for a minute, leaving you to nod and let the conversation peter out. It wasn't the first time one of your conversations with him died out due to a mutual lack of skill, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 
Giving in, you grabbed your bag and headed for the small bathroom, a strategic retreat to pass the time without having to acknowledge that the teams resident genius was ignoring you. 
Because he definitely was. 
You'd been on the team for six months, and you couldn't quite figure out why he'd never so much as asked you how your day was. He'd be jovially talking with one agent or the other and would clam up as soon as you joined into the fray. 
Spencer Reid was stuck in his shell, you'd been told. He was someone who didn't open up very easily, especially after his first few, very rough years in the BAU. 
You let each concern roll off your back as you showered and cleaned yourself up after a day of dumpster diving for clues. Your next aim was getting out of the shower, dried, and into bed before you felt the weight of his disinterest in you settle any heavier. 
“Hey  I'm all done now, and I'm gonna hit the hay, so bathrooms all yours.”
“Thanks,” he said and immediately strode in, shutting the door behind him without another word. 
You wished you could shake the man. You weren't exactly used to being so pointedly avoided by a peer, and it was honestly making you feel rather indignant. You wanted to grab his attention and hold it any way you could, so much so that your palms started itching. 
The sounds of Spencer's shower interrupted your attempts to rest, so you set about organizing your things instead. Folding your shirts, you placed them in your go bag, taking inventory on how many fresh outfits you had left and how much laundry you'd have left to do when the case ended. 
It could've been the haze of sleep, or perhaps just an early warning bell, but no matter how many times you counted, you always came up short by one pair of panties. It took another minute of blinking out the sleep in your eyes, becoming suddenly alert again, that you realized it was the pair of panties you'd been wearing before your shower. 
“Fuck,” you sighed, trying to fill the deep pit of embarrassment opening in your stomach before it swallowed you from the inside out. “Fuck.” 
When in doubt, you found it best to curse at least twice. 
And just like that your coherent thoughts went out the window - a morning, afternoon and evening doing manual labor under the guise of a nice desk job would do that to any girl - and you found yourself opening the door to the bathroom without knocking first or even remembering Spencer Reid's presence in the room at all. 
He froze in shock as you came face to face with him, shirt and pants open, his long cock in his hands and his face flushed with erotic shock as he rubbed up and down the length of his cock. 
“Shit, fuck, Spencer I'm sorry I was- are those my panties?” 
Rather unabashedly, your eyes hadn't left his crotch as he froze in fear at your intrusion. 
“I'm not a pervert!” He shouted, still unable to let his dick go, so close to bliss as he was. 
“You're madturbating into my panties, Spencer. What other label would you put on that?” 
“You're really hot. It's hard to ignore. I don't usually do this, but they were in here on the floor, and I thought about taking them back out to you, but then you'd think I was a pervert for touching your underwear and then I imagined you thanking me and putting them back on right in front of me and my cock was so hard and you said you were going to sleep. Did you know most men masturbate eight times a week on average? Me doing this once while sharing a room with you for a week isn't statistically …that …bad. Why are you doing that?”  
You'd been done listening halfway through and had somehow found yourself sinking to your knees. He'd rested his body against the bathroom sink, so you organized yourself in front of him, staring up at him innocently as you wrapped your fingers around his hand. 
“I want to see what it was you were doing with my panties, Spencer,” You moved his hand up and down his length, slowly dragging the lacy material across each inch. “Please let me see.” 
The empty shower kept flowing and the room was thick with steam as you kept up a steady pace rubbing up and downs Spencer's cock. 
A sense of achievement hit you with each moan and gasp he let out. Every time his hips thrust up into your hand, each time his hand stroked your hair in thanks for your copious attention. 
You'd finally gotten through to Spencer Reid in a way that you were about to make sure was mutually beneficial. 
His moans got louder and harder to conceal with a bite of the lip as he got closer to cumming. He really was a pervert, letting his coworker jerk him off in a motel bathroom while on a case. He was practically begging for release. 
“Cum for me Spencer. Make my face pretty, please please please.”
His eyes shot open wide as you stuck your tongue out, just in time to taste his cum on your lips. A few stray ropes hit your chin and cheek as well, with the majority staining the panties you'd come in to search for. 
“Thank you, Spencer,” You giggled, wiping away his cum and standing yourself up to come face to face with him. 
“Y/N, it won't-” You cut him off with a kiss that he eagerly returned hands, falling all over your body in his haste to feel every part of you. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he was a cartographer mapping out its caverns, desperate to learn each soft caress you returned off by heart. 
“If you were about to say it won't happen again, I suggest you think again, Spencer. I want this to happen again. Regularly.”
You shut off the shower and turned on your heel, walking back out to the bedroom and out of the heat for a few minutes. 
“You want to jerk me off?”
“Yes.”
“And I'm the pervert?” 
“You were using my panties and your hand like a fleshlight, Spencer. Yes, you are a pervert.”
“I'm a pervert but you still want to jerk me off?” 
“Yes.” 
“Okay.”
That's how it began. Your decade-long escapade with Spencer Reid. It wasn't that you dated. He was still unsure about how to approach you for another few months after that, but there was nothing like the relaxation of a few orgasms to really help you warm up to somebody. 
For the first few years, a case didn't pass without one of you slipping into the others motel room for some late night entertainment. 
You knew just how deep his fingers could hit inside you after only two weeks. You became obsessed with how well his cock could stretch you out, how his hands would gently rub around your clit in circles while you bounced up and down on his length. How he watched your breasts bounce with untold wonder in his eyes. 
You most of all loved that his tongue was as eager to taste you as you had been that very first time to taste his cum. 
Half the times he let himself into your room, he'd satisfy himself by eating you out lazily for hours on end, making you moan his name while you came on his fingers and tongue. Every flash of violet that he caught a glimpse of - that first pair of panties - drove him crazy. 
Motels and hotels and once the back seat of an SUV after a long drive became your time to get closer to your coworker. You never once thought of bringing this physical relationship home with you, though, and it wasn't a continuous thing. 
You'd had to take it easy when he got shot in the leg, not wanting to hurt him anymore. And again, when he'd gotten shot in the neck, though a few times he'd begged you to close his hospital door and help him out still. 
And you'd both distanced yourself after Emily's death and miraculous resurrection. Surprisingly enough,  you'd found your heart slightly twisted when he'd begged the team for help rescuing his girlfriend from a stalker. 
But you always found your way back in his bed with his tongue pressed against yours and his cock buried as deep into you as far as it could go. In the decade you'd been sleeping with the secretly perverted and somewhat insatiable Spencer Reid you'd never gone longer than three months without his body in your bed. 
Until he went to prison. 
The weight of your grief at losing him was unparalleled. You'd been heartbroken when Emily had died, but it paled in comparison to the thought of his isolation. Penelope had to remind you to eat, Luke had to engage you in conversation to keep you talking. 
Emily slipped a spare key to Reid's apartment to you somewhere around the three week mark, and you'd let yourself into a place you'd only ever heard described. You slept in his bed to feel his scent wrapped around you, touched yourself there to remind yourself that you were just feeling the loss of a sexual partner and friend and nothing more. It was lust and sexual frustration driving your depression. That was all. 
Spencer came out different. Everyone did. On the surface, he was still kind, still a little bit nerdy, and he still wasn't the best at reading social cues, but there was an intensity to him that wasn't there before. 
On cases, he'd wrap a hand around your waist and push a hand just slightly under your shirt while you introduced yourself to local detectives. He'd hug you at the end of every work day, breathing in your scent and telling you how tired he was. 
His hand would firmly cover your thigh and not move the entire duration of any car ride, team dinner or family event, and he'd kiss the back of your neck and grope your breasts each and every elevator ride you took alone together. 
Spencer Reid hadn't been able to keep his hands off of you for six whole months, and yet he hadn't actually touched you.
Every time you'd knocked on his motel door, he'd not opened it, and he hadn't once come to yours. 
You'd expected him every day for a week after he'd first gotten out and had even explicitly told him so. You texted your address, invited him over, and sent him pictures of you in those infernal panties that you really didn't wear that often anymore. 
He desired you still, you knew enough from brushing past him and feeling his semi push against your ass, you knew in every hug where he touched you just enough to know he wanted more but still had the control to pull away. 
You knew that he only kissed your neck, because if he kissed your lips his tongue would wander all the way to your cunt and he'd be on his knees between yours making you scream his name in pleasure. 
Spencer Reid wanted to avoid you, but he still wanted you, and after six months of celibacy you were tired of waiting around for him to finally crack. 
Emily had never asked for the spare key back. With 10 years of dalliances under your belt, you were sure the entire office had caught on, if not before prison, then certainly after his hands took possession of your body after his release. She wasn't going to ask for the key back because that was like asking a question she probably would sleep better without having the answer to. 
Spencer started his professorial work, and you finished some nights before he could manage the commute home, so it was easy to let yourself into his apartment for the confrontation. 
When Spencer finally turned his key in the lock, he found you there  on your knees on the floor in a matching violet set of lingerie. Not your originals, but certainly close enough - smaller, though. 
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” 
“I'm just sitting here in my underwear for fun, Spencer. You should try it sometime.”
He frowned at your sarcastic reply but stepped closer to you, topping your head up to meet his gaze with a quick flick of his finger. 
“I mean it, Y/N. Why are you here?” 
“I…I want you to touch me again.” 
“I touch you plenty, Y/N. I touch you here,” he traced your lips. 
“And here.” His fingers fell to your neck, sweeping some hair off your shoulders. 
“And a lot here, too.” He cupped one breast in his hand and gave it a squeeze, and you let your head rest against his thigh as he slipped a finger into your bralette. 
“I want you to touch me more, Spencer.”
“How? How should I touch you? Be a little pervert for me and tell me, Y/N?”
Your breathing faltered for a second as he pinched your nipple and you bit your lip before you told him exactly what he wanted to hear. 
“I want to feel your dick buried deep in my pussy. I want to cum on your tongue. I want you to stretch me out with your fingers and I want you to fill me up with your cum. Please, Spencer, I miss you so much.” 
He said nothing but withdrew his hand from your chest and distanced himself slightly, turning his face away from you. 
“Spencer, please, what's wrong? Did I do something-”
“Do you miss me? Or do you miss fucking me?” The words would regularly send you into an indignant stomp, and part of you was still begging you to let out a shout of “what the hell is that supposed to mean.” 
But Spencer was frozen still in the doorway of his house, almost statuesque as a melancholic look overwhelmed his features. 
Your courage drained your body as you stood up and pulled the shirt you'd earlier discarded back on. 
“Spencer? Look at me, please.” 
He did reluctantly, and that blank expression still filled his eyes with gloom. 
You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the couch, sitting him down and wrapping yourself around him. 
You say there, head pressed into his neck, legs straddling him as his arms slowly came up to pulling you back in. Your heart beat harder by the second, and you counted down the minutes as you worked up courage.
“I missed you so much I drove myself insane. I had to sleep here for a week straight after they told me you were put in solitary. Every day, I thought of your hands on my body and how much I missed seeing your fingers flipping through a book on the jet. I missed asking you what you were reading, and I missed convincing you to put the book down.” 
You pulled your head up to meet his gaze and slowly let your mouth fall to his lips. It was slow, soft. An innocent peck in the context of your usual caresses. It spoke the words I miss you more effectively than your voice could, and neither of you seemed to want to part from the warm embrace. 
“I missed you, Spencer Reid.” You spoke, cutting off your kiss as you grew more impassioned by his touch, breathing harder and speaking faster and faster now as you kept on. 
“I missed you when you came back because you kept your hands on me. You let yourself enjoy my body in public but wouldn't let me share your bed in private. You hugged me, but you wouldn't let me hold you, and you have not once spoken about how you feel, you have not once told me that you are okay now or that you are not okay and you need my shoulder to cry on.”
He was silent until your tears sprung forth, and then he was everywhere around you, kissing the drops from your face, shushing you and whispering words of encouragement and thanks and love into your ears while he placated your breaking heart.
Because somehow you fell in love with the pervert who stole your panties and now you were sitting in a room with a mostly broken man, begging him to use you to feel whole again. 
“I love you, Spencer. Please, please let me touch you.” 
“I love you, too,” he whispered against your lips, hands finding your hips again as he finally pushed his tongue into your mouth. 
His nails bit into the skin at your thighs as he forced you not to move, instead grinding up into you after another heated kiss. 
“It was hard, but you kept me going. Memories of you, your mouth, your scent your wet cunt wrapped around my cock, you kept me alive in that place.” He worked you up with each dirty confession as his hands pushed the shirt back off your shoulders and bared the lingerie to him once again. 
“Then I was out, and you were still the same as I remembered, but I was different, and I needed more from you. But I couldn't take more, and I didn't want to ask you to give more because I could not beg one more person to love me.” 
“You don't have to beg, Spencer, I love you already, I love you I love you I love you.” 
“Y/N, you don't understand. I am completely enamoured with you. I want to possess you, I want to keep you in my room, I want to have a hand on you at all times. I want to put a bullet in any man who looks at you because you are mine. I'm not a pervert, I'm a monster, and I'm going to hurt you.”
“Possess me, hurt me, keep me, Spencer, do whatever you want to me, I will let you. Just please don't leave me.” 
Your teeth clicked together in his haste to recapture your lips again, his cock hard and already sprung from his pants thanks to two pairs of quick working hands. 
He pushed aside your panties, and he was inside you, pressed to the hilt recapturing the place that was home to him. 
“You picked this color for me. You wanted me to lose control and fuck you and you got what you wanted,” he whispered in your ear as you locked your ankles together behind his back. 
“I did.”
“Good. I'm going to rip them shred by shred from your body so nobody else can see you acting like such a desperate wet cunt ever again.” 
You let out a gasp at his words, and his tongue dropped back down your throat as he rutted into you ferociously. 
“Spencer, yes, fuck me. FUCK!” 
Your hips met his in a furious clash, his hand making their way around to your butt cheek as he aided your thrusting, pulling you up and down the length of his cock. 
“That's it, look at your boobs bouncing for me, sweetheart. Your body knows when it's being fucked right, it knows when I'm here, and I'm the only one who can make you feel this good, right baby?” 
“Yes, Spencer. Yes!” 
His hand came back up to your clit as you met his hips more enthusiastically than before, fucking yourself on the length of him. 
“You're going to cum on my cock. Show me how much you missed me,  missed this.” 
“So much, missed you so much, Spence….need your cum inside me, fill me up Spencer, please."
It took both of you only a few more desperate thrusts to reach the climax you'd waited half a year for. You convulsed on his dick, shuddering underneath him as he filled you with rope after rope of cum.
But when you had both caught your breath, you still didn't let go, still holding on to him desperately as of he'd vanidj in another second despite your confessions. 
“Y/N…” he cooked into your ear as you buried your face in his chest again. “Y/N, we need to get you to bed.” 
“I'm not leaving.” 
“No, you're not. But you're not sleeping on my couch either.”
You pulled away just enough to watch his face as he dipped down for another sweetly chaste kiss. 
Lifting himself up, and pulling his cock out of you, you whimpered a little at the loss of his warmth, but after rearranging himself in his pants, he pulled you up next to him and wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug as he slowly walked you back towards his bedroom. 
“You really slept at my apartment?”
“I slept in your bed. I'm sorry, I know it was overstepping, but you were gone and I-”
“Missed me, I know.” His hands traced your spine again before cupping around your bare ass and hooking it under to touch your soaked cunt. 
“How much did you miss me, Y/N? How did you spend your nights here?” His fingers once again hooked under the panties, but instead of pulling them to the side, he quickly pulled at the seams, and you heard a ripping sound aa his eyes demanded the answer to your question. 
“Close the door, and I'll shoe you exactly what I did here, Spencer. I'll show you everything.’ 
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golden1u5t ¡ 9 months ago
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not so sneaky after all | a.h x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: smut
ꨄ summary: a quickie in aaron’s office leads to the discovery of your relationship.
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You moaned out Aaron's name softly as he thrust into you from behind, he held your head down on his desk as he fucked you in his office. You were on the edge of falling apart under him when there was a knock on the door. Aaron yelled that he would be with them in a minute, he really just needed to make you cum first.
Aaron yanked on your hair harder with one hand and covered your mouth with the other, he could feel your cunt pulsing around his cock as you came. As soon as you came down he pulled out of you and quickly cleaned up and made himself more presentable.
"I'm gonna try to distract them while you fix yourself up, try to sneak out of here as quietly as possible." He placed a kiss to your lips before walking out of his office.
You did what he said and tried to sneak out as quietly as possible but the loud sound of Aaron's office closing alerted the team. You refused to turn around because you could feel all of their eyes on you, you laid your head against the door and groaned. The sound of Derek's laugh forced you turn around and take the walk of shame back to your desk.
"I can't believe it!" He clutched his stomach in a fit of laughter but you and Aaron didn't find it the slightest bit of funny. Pretty soon, more of them started to chuckle.
"I can." Spencer interjected, he looked up from his book and looked at you before going back to reading. "They've been sneaking around for months and none of you have caught on. Makes me question if you're fit for this job."
"Wait- you knew?" Jj turned to him with a look of betrayal. You couldn't believe he knew all this time and didn't mention it, you were slightly grateful for it.
"Yup. You guys really didn't notice the pattern? It would start when Hotch would announce he's shutting his door for a few and then exactly 4 minutes and 48 seconds later Y/N announced that she needed to ask him a question, she would come back after 40 minutes and 11 seconds. I noticed it again with how long their conversations on the jet with each other were, Y/N typically only holds a conversation with someone for-"
"Okay! That's enough, Reid." Hotch stopped him, he couldn't take hearing Spencer break down how he figured out you and hotch were sneaking around.
"You know the average time I hold a conversation?"
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luvly-writer ¡ 2 months ago
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His Solace
Dick Grayson x reader
Author's note: I wrote this for the sole purpose of wanting to read it later. Literally for my own guilty pleasure. LMAO
Warning: It's cute?
---
Dick had a headache. He had just gotten to his apartment. He had spent a few days at Jump City helping Kory with a few things for the Titans. Normally, he wouldn't have minded but seeing as she took the opportunity to call him out on whether he was ever choosing Barbara or her; he was exhausted. Then, he was called to Gotham to aid Bruce in the development of a case with Scarecrow. It would have been fine, again, if it weren't for Jason and Tim trying to rip each other to shreds because of a petty argument; Damian antagonizing Stephanie; and to put a cherry on the top, Barbara wouldn't stop leaving very pointed comments on the same thing Kory had asked him. He had tried to contact Wally, see if they could go out and have some fun, ease his mind a little, but nop, on a mission with Barry. Finally, he had gotten home, when Bruce called that Damian, Steph, and Jason had decided to team up in their latest recon and it had been a disaster because no one followed orders. He could feel the agitation bubbling and rising with his stress levels. The cases had begun piling up, the villains would just not stay in Arkham, the alarm of the remainder of his Young Justice meeting kept beeping, could feel the panic attack rising.
"Fuck it. I'm taking a vacation."
---
You took a deep breath with your eyes closed and exhaled. Yeah, this is what you deserved. You had been dying to go to Bali and after many months of hard work, you had piled enough days to get a one-month vacation. The life of a Public Relationist was a hassle. You were damn good at your job but it was starting to strain your mental health. Burnout was approaching faster and faster. As you walked towards the pool, you looked for a few seats available and noticed one in the perfect spot. As you approached it, you noticed that the most gorgeous man had been sitting in the one next to it. Beautiful tanned skin, soft dark hair, and dazzling blue eyes.
"Is this seat taken?" You asked with a bright and warm smile. Dick felt his heart drop at the sight of you. You were honestly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, and he had been around aliens and demigods. Your hair was tied in a loose ponytail, your bathing suit hugged you in all the right places, and you were standing there giving a smile that left him breathless.
"Not at all, go ahead" he responded with his own smile. You placed your things down and pulled out a book and some sunglasses.
"Any good?" You heard him ask pointing toward your book
"So far so good, I just began reading it last night" she answered with a sheepish smile, "If I see you again, I'll keep you updated"
He chuckled and extended his hand, " Di-Richard" He hesitated in giving his name. He was in Bali for a whole month, next to a beautiful woman who had no idea who he was. No expectation to be the charming eldest of the Wayne household and no need to put on a mask as Nightwing. Yeah, he was gonna enjoy this small freedom.
"Y/n," she said as she shook his hand, "You don't look like a Richard" She continued making him scoff out a laugh.
"No? Why's that?"
"Richard sounds like an old serious guy in his 40's"
"You don't think I could be serious" he leaned forward with a slight smirk on his face
"Maybe, but, unless you keep a very good skincare routine, you don't look past thirty"
He laughed out loud and shook his head, " So, what's your hypothesis?"
"You have a nickname that suits you better"
"Dick"
"Excuse me" She looked at him with a hint of teasing in her eyes and a small smile.
"My nickname is Dick"
"I don't know which one is worst" she giggled and he looked at her incredulously. He laughed at that, it had been some time since he was able to feel light with some mindless teasing.
"Oh come on, as if you could come up with something better"
"Hmmm" She took a moment to think and he took it as an opportunity to really look at her. She had such a unique beauty, like those faces that stay in your mind for months, unforgettable. "What about Ric?" He scrunched his nose in distaste, "Richie" He shook his head with a laugh, "Ricky" He stopped to think for a moment and inevitably said no again. "Well, Dickie, I have absolutely no clue" She laughed.
"Dickie's nice," he said softly, and she hummed in victory.
They had spent the rest of that day talking when huger started to strike, he invited her for dinner and she accepted surprisingly. They had spent the rest of their vacation together. Hanging out, taking tours, swimming together, dining together, and even sleeping together. Dick hadn't felt so light in a long time. They clicked so well. They weren't taking this seriously because it was just a vacation. Soon they would have to go back to their lives, hers in New York and his in Gotham. Finally, the vacation was coming to an end. The morning before her trip back, they had decided to stay in her room and have a lazy morning, just enjoying the last moments together. They were lying in the bed, him on his back and her with her torso on top of him. She was softly caressing his hair as he caressed her back.
"I think I'm gonna miss you," she said softly.
"You think?" he teased and she looked at him exasperated. He chuckled and pulled her closer. "Oh honey, I know I'm gonna miss you" he pulled her closer and he felt her relax in his arms.
They had exchanged phone numbers a while back. Even though Gotham, Bludhaven and New York weren't that far away, they still had their own lives to attend to. They had agreed to remain friendly, without a title and a definition. Just each other's Bali vacation sweetheart.
A few months later…
Dick refused to cut contact with you. Given your demanding lives, you couldn't talk every single day, but he made the effort to. Daily messages and flowers sent to your apartment were a constant. When you did talk, it could go on for hours. Dick hadn't told anyone about you. It was his sweet secret, his solace. After one rough week, in particular, he had called you desperately, wanting to hear your voice and laughter. There was a small voice in the back of his mind that called him pathetic, but it was gone the second you answered the phone. He had been hurt, bad. His family and all of his leadership roles were getting to him and your sweet soothing voice cracked him. He started crying and blabbering, asking if he could see you. You agreed almost instantly and that weekend he took a train to New York.
When he got to your door, you saw the state he was in, deep eye bags, and an arm brace. You pulled him into a big hug and he just crumbled in your arms. That night, he confessed he was Nightwing. He just let everything out as he laid in your bed, in your arms once again, and you let him. He found peace in you, your touch, your voice, your friendship. You never asked him for more and it soothed him. For once, someone was on his side and didn't expect something from him aside from himself. He had told everyone he was following the lead of a case in New York, a few had offered to go with him and he refused. The only lead that he was following was the case of how much he missed you.
You were his solace. He came to you for counsel, for comfort, for laughter, for fun, for love. In return, he made sure you never felt anything other than loved, appreciated, and satisfied. Even with the distance, he still went the extra mile. Dick Grayson wasn't a bad lover, but for you, he gave himself fully. You guys still hadn't placed a label. You were just friends. You understood that you had responsibilities that needed your full attention so a relationship would complicate everything. You loved New York, he loved Bludhaven and Gotham. It was final. Until it wasn't.
Dick had barely gotten any sleep last night. Patrol ran even longer last night and he only got one hour of sleep before his alarm rang. He had gotten a headache halfway through his shift and decided to go to Brandy's and get some coffee. You hadn't answered his text yet, which was odd. Sure, you both didn't talk on the phone every day but you always texted. Maybe you were caught up with a few clients. He knew there was one that was making your job three times more difficult than it should be. As he was waiting for his order, he heard the beautiful and unmistakable sound of your voice.
"Dick?"
He turned around and there you were, standing with a suitcase and a shy smile. He swore his headache left the moment he laid eyes on you.
"Sweetheart? What? How?" he asked laughing and pulling you into a big hug. They called his order and he picked up, telling you to order something and he'd pay. Once you got your order, he pulled you into one of the booths.
"I wanted to surprise you" You answered with the sweetest smile, he swore his heart melted.
"You should have given me a heads up, gorgeous, I would have made time for you and cleaned my apartment. I could have given you a proper welcome to Bludhaven" He laughed and took one of her hands in his. He sensed she had something else to tell him.
"It's alright. I have some exciting news though," she bit her lip nervously, "I was offered an amazing position here in Bludhaven. It pays double what I earn now and I would have a higher position. I'm here to have a meeting with the executives, check out the offices, and go through my contract. Isn't that great?" she told him and he swore he heard angels sing. Y/n. His Y/n! She was going to be in Bludhaven! He wanted to cry, scream, anything to liberate the joy he felt. If she was here, then they could be together.
"That is amazing news, gorgeous! This..this..this is wow..I think whoever is up there finally started to listen to me" he joked making her laugh. He squeezed her hand adoringly. Y/n was going to be in Bludhaven and he felt utterly giddy.
Three months later…
BANG BANG BANG To be honest, Kory was tired and at this point, it was getting humiliating. Last night, she had been passing through the living room in the tower and overheard some of the members talking about a supposed bet. When she asked them what it was about they all quieted down and looked at each other nervously. Putting a stern face, she asked the team about the bet once again fearing that they had gotten into trouble. Finally, Gar spoke up and explained. Together with the Young Justice and the Outlaws, the youngest members had decided to start a bet on who would Dick choose for this year's Christmas Annual Wayne Ball. Would he go with Barbara or Kory? Hearing this was a breaking point for Kory. She meta-tubed straight to Batcave in search of Dick. Having not found him, she looked for Barbara and questioned if he was with her. Kory informed the present members of the family of the bet and heard a sheepish confirmation from Tim and Damian. Agitated, Barbara decided to accompany Kory to Bludhaven and obligate Dick to answer finally.
That led us to our current predicament, where both women stood knocking on his apartment door harshly. As they went to knock again, someone finally answered…and it was not Dick.
"Um, hi? May I help you?" a young beautiful woman in an elegant short black dress greeted them. Barbara and Kory looked stunned, not knowing what to say.
"Oh! Sorry, I think we got the wrong apart-"
"Babe, who was it at the door?" Lo and behold, Dick Grayson appeared exiting one of the rooms all dressed in black. Once, Y/n stepped back, he stopped walking and froze.
"Barbara? Kory? What are you both doing here?" He asked slowly. Something clicked in Y/n's face and the two girls realized that she finally knew who they were. Sensing the awkwardness, Y/n excused herself.
"I'm gonna go finish getting ready, okay? You're good here?" She asked touching his arm and squeezing it reassuringly. He kissed her temple and soon she disappeared through one of the doors.
"You can come in…" he said letting Kory and Barbara step through the door. His apartment looked different, they noted. It was renovated and more stylish. It didn't take a genius to know who was responsible for the sudden refinement in his "bachelor" pad.
"Who is she?" asked Kory, straight to the point. Dick sighed. Sooner or later, he would have had to reveal and introduce Y/n to his family and friends. He just wished it would have been later and by his terms.
"She is my girlfriend"
"For how long?" Barbara asked this time
"Three months"
"So it is still fresh and new?" Barbara observed. Dick had had girlfriends between the moments he had been with Kory or her, but they were never serious. They usually lasted up to five months or so and would usually grow incredibly jealous of one of the two.
"Not really" He answered tightly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him.
"We have been kind of something for almost a year now. We just made it official three months ago." He answered resigned. They were not going to let this go.
"A year? How- Whe- What?" Kory and Barbara exchanged puzzled looks. "And you were able to just hide it from the entirety of your social circle? How?" Kory asked
"Does Bruce know?" Asked Barbara
"No…I...was hoping to introduce her to everyone sometime before the Ball" He said, scratching his head. "She is going to be my date after all."
Barbara took a deep breath, analyzing the situation. Kory just looked at him perplexed, expecting more to come out of his mouth. Barbara narrowed her eyes at him. "Explain."
And so he did. He was as brief as he could be. Not wanting to get into too much detail. By the time he was done, Y/n excited the room. Makeup, hair, and heels done. Kory stared at you as Barbara interrogated Dick. You gave her a bright smile and extended your hand.
"Y/n L/n. A pleasure to meet you" Kory shook your hand and gave you her full name. Then you turned towards Barbara. You extend your hand and greet her as well.
"As lovely as this is, Dick we have to get going. If we get there late, I am never hearing the end of it from Charlotte." She laughed. Dick stood up quickly and went to look for his keys and wallet. She turned towards them, "Maybe you could come by tomorrow? We have to get to the engagement dinner of a friend of mine and I would love it if we weren't late." She said with a soft smile.
Neither Kory nor Barbara could sense any sort of malice behind her words. Barbara assessed her. She seemed relaxed, posture straight, and at ease. Unlike many of his ex-girlfriends, she didn't look intimidated by them at all. Dick excited their room as Barbara and Kory were about to exit. Y/n turned to look at him and he came closer. He wrapped his hands around her waist and she wrapped hers around his neck.
"You have a lot of explaining to do with your family tomorrow" she warned him with a laugh.
"Yeah, yeah, can't wait" He responded sarcastically and rolled his eyes. Kissing her on her shoulder he turned towards Barbara and Kory who were still observing him.
"Babs, we'll talk about this tomorrow. I'll go to the manor and we can meet at the cave. Kory, I'll call you later, okay?" He promised. Both women nodded and left.
"I guess my sweet secret won't be such a secret anymore" he groaned and the girl pecked his cheek gently.
"It was gonna happen sooner or later, gorgeous. Plus, I'm kinda excited. I want to meet your family." She said softly. He looked at her and smiled. As long as she was here, He would be fine. He just hoped they wouldn't scare her away.
"Come on baby, we don't want Charlotte to tease you about how ever since you got a boyfriend, you never get early to things" Hearing her groan made him laugh.
---
Author's Note: This took longer that I though but idgaf, this is literally so self indulgent that I love it. I kinda wanna write a part two of the family meeting reader but idk. If its requested then I probably might. What do you guys think?
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wonnieluv ¡ 2 months ago
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Live from New York, It’s Saturday Night! - Mark Lee
Summary: In September 2024 you found out that you’ll be hosting Saturday Night Live in December! You’re a bit nervous and as time passes you realize you need to choose a musical guest. What happens when you request one of your favorite artists and he just so happens to be in NY that weekend for Jingle Ball AND has a new solo releasing the next Monday (you just don’t know about the solo yet). Will he say yes?
soloist!Mark x actress!reader
warnings: implied that Y/N reads fan fiction about Mark because I thought it was funny, fluff, kissing
masterlist
author’s note: I know all of Dream were in NY but for plot purposes Mark is a soloist in this fic because I didn’t want Y/N to seem like a solo stan for inviting Mark alone
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“MATT IF YOU DON’T SAY SIKE RN I’M GOING TO HIT YOU” a woman’s loud voice echos through the apartment
“Y/N WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THIS. I know this has been a dream of yours” A males voice can be heard from the phone in the her hand.
Let’s pause and give some background context, shall we?
Y/N L/N, accomplished actress at the young age of 23 years old. You’ve been acting since a young age starting on the Disney Channel. When you were a teen you made it out of Disney and began taking more rolls outside of the image you had previously crafted for so many years. Now here you are, a multi-academy award nominated actress (you’ve won a couple too 😉). You grew up watching Saturday Night Live with your parents and SNL was a goal you’d always wanted to achieve in your career which brings us to the present day. You’ve been booked to host SNL and you couldn’t be more excited!
"Matt can I call you back, I'm gonna go scream, cry, hyperventilate, and probably run a lap around the block" You tell your manager Matt, he's become more of your best friend in the time you've known him so he's pretty used to your dramatics.
"Yea, I'll get more details and discuss some contract related things with them and I'll swing by yours in a couple hours." He finishes hanging up the call.
You let out a squeal as you skip around your house. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you don't think you were this happy when you got nominated for your academy awards.
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As the days grow into weeks, Halloween is beginning to approach rapidly and you're on your way to meet with team at SNL to discuss of details that need to be prepared ahead of time for your episode.
your episode...
Yup! your episode in the 50th season of SNL. Things are moving quickly. It's already been almost a month since you got the call notifying you of your casting and you haven't been able to think of anything else. You're so excited to hear the pitches from the cast about the skits they want to do. Being able to work in this environment is like a dream come true.
One of the things you're nervous about is the topic of the meeting today. They want you to have a musical artist picked out so you will need to be providing a list of people that they can reach out to to ensure they get the artist booked before everyone has their schedules set for the holidays.
You arrive to the meeting greeting everyone in the room as you listen intently to what's being said. As time goes on you just get more and more excited about the process.
"... and finally the last thing we need to get ironed out today is who you'd like to have for your musical guest. As you know this episode will be airing December 14th so we'll need to be mindful of holiday plans and schedules so we really should get on this soon. For right now we'll get the name of the top artist you'd like to have and we'll have your management send over the rest of the list via email so we can get an artist booked as soon as possible."
You nod as you listen intently.
"So who is your top artist at the moment" He looks at you expectantly
"I'd like to have Mark Lee be my music guest. He's a singer and wrapper with a sizable following and I think he'd be a great fit." You try to come off confident but you know he has the power to just flat out say no if he wants
"Hmmm... I'll have to look into him before we make any calls but... we'll keep you updated." You nod in response.
You leave the building with a pep in your step and a smile on your face as you anticipate the coming months of preparation
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"Hey Matt, what's up" You ask as you pick up the phone. It's a Saturday in November so you were relaxing at home as you watch the people wrapped in their winter coats facing the cold of the coming New York winter.
"I have an update from SNL. I thought you'd like to hear this one."
"Oooh what is it?" He's piqued your interest
"They've confirmed your musical guest for your episode of SNL and the guest was from the list we gave them"
"OH MY GOD really?!?!!?! Is It Mark? Matt please tell me it's Mark." You didn't want to get your hopes up but clearly your attempts were futile for how much you were anticipating his answer.
"Stay calm Y/N... but yes... Mark's management just agreed to have him be your musical guest"
"...Matt...I'm going to mute myself real quick..." You quickly get out before muting yourself and screaming bloody murder into your pillow. THE Mark Lee... agreed to be YOUR musical guest... on YOUR episode of SNL...? Life just took a whole new turn of unreal. You've been a fan of Mark for a while now and him agreeing to join you is insane.
You clear your throat as you pick your phone back up again "...hey Matt... soo... Mark Lee... he said yes?"
"Yup he'll be in town for the jingle ball event that's happening the day before so they agreed to extend his stay for a couple of extra days"
"Great! I can't wait!"
"The SNL producers would like to hold another meeting soon to discuss the logistics with his team and with you so start preparing yourself mentally. I know you like him but don't try to jump his bones through the screen."
"Heyyyy, I would never..." You try to defend yourself.
"Yea yea... I'll talk to you soon"
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"Y/N it's good to see you again, I hope your preparations have been going well." One of the producers greets you as you enter the room
"They have! I'm excited to be back with you all again"
"Y/N this is Mark Lee and his manager, they're joining us through zoom from their company in South Korea. Today's objective is to talk over what our expectations are for Mark as the musical guest as well as clear up any questions. Shall we get started?"
You nod trying to focus on the task at hand and less of the fact that the man you've had a minor celebrity crush on for years isn't perceiving you over zoom at the moment.
"After we received your offer I put some thought into the songs I'd like to perform that day. I think this is a unique opportunity and I think the songs chosen will be perfect for the SNL stage" Mark begins
"We figured it'd be nice to start with a slower track with a nice intimate mood 200 - Minhyung's Version as it's a more unplugged acoustic vibe. For the second song we'd like to have Mark perform a single that is yet to be announced but will be releasing December 16th. It's called Fraktsiya. It's a hip hop song with a heavy 808 base and we think it would be a big draw for him and for the show to have it be the first time anyone hears it officially." Marks manager explains.
You can't help but perk up at the mention of a new song.
So does that mean I'd get to hear it for the first time in rehearsals? Before anyone else does..?
Not the time Y/N you mentally scold yourself for letting your thoughts wander during an important meeting. You shake away your thoughts and pay attention for the rest of the meeting.
"This was a very informative session, we'd like to thank you all so much for the opportunity to have Mark perform on such an iconic show" You hear his manager say as the meeting wraps up.
"It'll be our pleasure to have you here in December. We'll be in touch" The producer says before the call is cut and you're all dismissed
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December 14th, 2024, show day
Here you are, sat in your dressing room, running over your lines preparing for the final rehearsal before tonights live show. Due to his schedule at Jingle Ball yesterday night, Mark wasn't able to the join the rehearsal meaning you'll be seeing him for the first time today when you run through the show.
"Y/N it's time to head out" Matt gets your attention as you quickly get up and head towards him so the two of you can head to set
"Let's go" You say with a smile
"Keep your hormones in check when we get out there"
You slap his shoulder in response "Hey I am a very calm and composed thank you very much. It's not that big of a deal"
"Your tumblr history says otherwise" You freeze while looking at hime with your mouth agape
"MATT GET BACK HERE" You run to catch up to him
As the two of you arrive to set you're done smacking him for seeing your tumblr history and you’ve been able to mostly calm the bright blush that had appeared as you slowly approach the producer.
“Good morning Y/N are you ready to get started?” He asks as you and Matt reach him
“Yup! Let’s get started!”
You begin your final rehearsal with the opening monologue which goes without a hitch and finally the moment you’re waiting for, Mark is going to rehearse his songs
He comes out onto stage looking very casual as he introduces himself and checks his mic. You decide it’s for the best if you stand to the back to watch because you knew yourself. You wouldn’t be able to not ogle him so you may as well do it from the sides instead of in front of everyone…
God he’s so cool
As he rehearses 200, you can’t stop staring. He’s on a stool with a spotlight on him and the guitarist playing next to him and his voice is so melodic and calming. You’re blatantly staring at this point but you don’t care, he’s so charismatic and his aura is mesmerizing, you can’t help but watch intently.
“Thank you…” he says into the mic with a short bow as he finishes with everyone clapping for him. The producers chat with him and the band before they change the set for Weekend Update. You aren’t needed for this segments rehearsal so you head back to get some snacks from your dressing room. You arrive closing the door behind you taking a breathe pulling out your phone as you scroll for about 15 minutes before you get a text from Matt.
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You power your phone off and you leave the dressing room. As you close the door and start walking down the hallway you’re met with a something hard that sends you stumbling back
“Oh watch out!”
You grab onto the wall next to you as you feel a gloved hand grab your arms to help stabilize you.
“You okay…?” You look up to see who you ran into and of course… it’s Mark
“Oh! Y-yea… I’m fine sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going” you mentally slap yourself for stuttering
“No it’s okay, I wasn’t looking either” he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck
You take in his appearance and you see he’s wearing the same outfit as earlier but his hoodie has been replaced with a long leather jacket
“Are you also heading to set?” You calm your inner fan girl and ask
“Yea I am, shall we?” He asks knowing that you’re heading that way too.
You nod as you walk next to him. The two of you having casual conversation. He told you about Jingle Ball yesterday and you told him about the cat you feed sometimes on your block that also happens to be named Mark (you didnt name him, you swear his collar said Mark when you found him)
“Dude there’s no way…”
“I swear. He’s got this old collar on him and I swear it says Mark. I’ll have to show you a picture.” You laugh at his disbelief
The two of you finally arrive to set and go your separate ways so he can get onstage as you find Matt giving you a knowing look.
In response you slap him before turning turn attention towards the stage.
An unfamiliar heat starts playing through the speakers as Mark comes out looking the same as he did when you saw him only now he’s sporting some expensive looking shades and he’s got this intimidating aura around him. He’s not the playful Mark you met in the hallway.
Your mouth fall agape as you watch him rap his new song exuding nothing but utter confidence
Yeah, how many schedules in a day? (Baby, listen)
He’s pulled his glasses down as he tilts his head down looking at the camera above the glasses so he can make eye contact
My airline miles fling honeymoon out of space (I said listen)
He turns his head look towards you as you says the line before redirecting his eyes ahead before adjusting his glass back to cover his eyes properly again
SM got to wait (SM, listen)
Phone is buzzing, uh, SNL shoot with Y/N
I said, wait
You’re frozen in your place as he says your name… did he adjust the lyrics? You know he did but it still made your heart race a little too hard. The fact that the entire song is him bragging about his accomplishments and you have a spot in the lyrics, even if it’s just an adlib for the live show. You have to calm yourself down at the thought
You continue to watch him finish his rehearsal with wide eyes. When he finished the song you clap along with the rest of the crew before continuing on with the rehearsal. You had a couple skits along with Mark who they included in one. He did really well despite the lack of rehearsal time and by the time you all finished you were feeling ready for the live show that night.
✈︎✈︎✈︎✈︎
You were sat in your dressing room after getting styled for the top of the show. You’ve got some down time so Matt left you to go probably flirt with one of the cast members he found cute (but wouldn’t admit it) so you’re relaxing in your chair trying to shake the nerves. Your mom flew to New York to watch live tonight so you really wanted to do well for her.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock on your door
“Come in” you say as you turn around to see who knocked and to your surprise… your met with the face of Mark Lee
“Oh Mark? I didn’t expect you to come by…” you say with a smile
“Yea… I had some downtime so I figured I’d stop by” he says walking in scratching the back of his neck awkwardly again.
“You look nervous” you laugh lightly
“Nahhhh… well… maybe just a bit” he says “but I think I’ll do fine. I think I’m more worried about how people will perceive the new song rather than whether I’ll do well”
“Hmmm” you hum in understanding “well I do owe you a picture of little Mark” you say pulling out your phone “oh! Feel free to sit down” you usher him over to the couch as you sit next to him
“Look” you show him a picture of a little orange cat that’s a bit chubby
“Awww dude he’s so cute”
“I know right” you pull back the phone and zoom in on the collar “look what I told you… he’s named Mark”
“That’s a crazy coincidence man… I have to meet this Mark sometime.” He laughs out
“Ooooh I don’t know about that. Two Marks within close proximity… the world might implode” you fake a shiver as you lean back on the couch
“Maybe your right” he chuckles at you before also leaning back on the couch
“Now how did you meet this Mark? He’s not a stray is he?”
“No… although that’s what I thought at first but I called the number on his collar and he has a home. He’s just an outdoor cat. He only comes home for food” You say thinking of the cat you’ve begun to love “If he was a stray I would’ve adopted him”
“Yea… maybe I should get a cat and name him Mark”
you chuckled at his response. “Mark and Mark. Sounds like a comic book”
“You know some people think I’m like Spider-Man… a superhero has gotta have a sidekick” He laughs looking at you
“Should I call you spider-mark then? You’ve got your guy in the chair and everything it seems.” You chuckle out
“Just you wait someday I’ll be in the spider-verse movies”
“I’ll look forward to it” you smile “you are missing one thing though”
“What is it?” He raises an eyebrow as he sits up and looks back at you
“Well you need an MJ of course” you say sarcastically as you look at him
He quirks an eyebrow at your statement “oh yea…” he pretends to think “I think I’ve got an MJ though too” he says as he looks at you “so I’m all set by your logic”
Your eyes widen slightly at his statement “oh yea. I guess so” you cast your eyes down for a second and when you look back up Mark is much closer to you
“You look disappointed” he says inching forward
“Why would I be…” you don’t move towards him but… you also don’t move away.
He smirks a little “I don’t know…” he brings up his hand a gently brushed your hair behind your ears as his face is just inches from yours
“I-“ you can respond before you hear Matt knocking on your door
“Y/N it’s time to get backstage” you and Mark immediately break from one another before you stand up and clear your throat
“Ok… I’ll be out in a second” you walk to your vanity grabbing your water and drinking some before turning back to Mark
“I should go…” you say to Mark, who has now risen from his spot on the couch and has begun to approach you
“Yea… you should…”
You look up and meet his gaze before beginning to walk towards the door. You don’t get very far before you feel a hand grab your wrist.
You don’t even have a moment to say anything before you feel a soft peck on your cheek
“Good luck…” he says softly
“Th-thanks…” you stutter out as your cheeks glow bright red.
You hurry out of the room and rush backstage to get ready for the start of the show
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The first half of the show goes by in a blur. All the sketches have been going really well and there has yet to be a problem. Now you're at the part you're most excited about Mark's stage
"Now introducing... Mark Lee" The audience claps as everyone becomes focused on him. He's dressed in black pants with a white button up unbuttoned with a tank top underneath. You listen as he sings 200, completely enamoured by him from your place behind the camera. You've realized you're beginning to fall for this man in the short time you've been able to really meet him and part of you wants to think he feels the same with the way (you think) his eyes shift to you behind the camera every so often. But you refuse to get your hopes up and get your heart broken.
He finishes up the song before heading back to get prepared for the next song as they bring out the Weekend Update set as usual.
You laugh as Colin and Micheal share their usual good jokes along with their bickering enjoying seeing the iconic pair in their element with your real eyes. Before you know it you're introducing Mark for his second song.
You take your place behind the camera once again as you take in his new appearance. His shirt now neatly buttoned with a tie around his neck. His thick sunglasses and his black leather clothes with his hair slicked back topping the look off made your jaw drop. He looked HOT
You watch the audience excited for their reactions to his new song and you could tell everyone loved it. You were so into the atmosphere that you almost forgot to pay attention to the stage and before you knew it, everyone was clapping and cheering for him.
✈︎✈︎✈︎✈︎
The show ends successfully as you say your goodbyes to everyone onstage before heading back to your dressing room to change into your regular clothes. As you've finished changing, you're collecting your things when you hear a knock on the door. You don't even get the chance to say come in before you see it open and Mark steps into the room.
"Sorry... I-" he sighs clearly a little unprepared
"You okay Mark?" You begin to step closer to him
"Yea yea.. I just thought you had left... someone said they saw your manager leave so I wanted to come check" He says a bit nervously
"Well I'm still here... so what do you need?' You look up at him but he's clearly avoiding your eyes.
"Well, I have to go back to Korea tomorrow... but I was wondering if... I could get your number." He says as he raises his gaze to meet yours
You softly smile at his request before you nod "give me your phone"
The two of you exchange numbers before you fall into some lighthearted conversation again. He's so easy to talk to. He laughs at your jokes and he matches your energy perfectly. He's just easy to be around.
You grab the rest of your belongings while you chat and once you're ready to go he walks you out to your car.
"This is it huh...?" He asks you hesitantly
"Well it cant be. You haven't met little Mark yet" You smile back at him. "Now you have a reason to come back to New York"
"Make that two..." He says softly
"Huh? What's the second-" You barely finish your sentence before you feel his soft lips on yours. After a moment of hesitation, you wrap your arms around his neck as his go to your waist as you reciprocate the kiss. It felt sweet, soft, careful, like he's testing the waters, but almost desparate, as he knows it'll be a while before you see each other again.
The two of you pull away "I'll see you soon... spidey..." you say softly with a smile on your face. You quickly peck his cheek before running into your car. You don't look at him out of shyness as you drive off with a bright smile on your face and 200 - Minhyung's Version blasting through the speakers of your car.
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This took me way too long to write to I hope you all enjoyed this. Also yes I made up the SNL skit but it was FOR THE PLOT I’m not too proud of that part
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zzbubblegumbitchzz ¡ 6 days ago
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hey so thinking about stalker!quinn so bare that in mind when you click that handy dandy read more. i rambled hard core but whatever
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he sees you in a book store in downtown Vancouver. your hairs just below your shoulders, you have on what looks like a black skirt and a pair of tights with black converse to match and he can’t read whatever’s on your hoodie.
all he can do is stare as your flip book after book, flushing as you read a random page before grabbing the book and holding it close.
he’s following you around the store, just grabbing random books to make himself not look like a weirdo. he needs more. needs to know who you are.
he overhears you ramble your phone number for rewards, replaying it in his head while you finish your transaction. as soon as he steps foot into his apartment, he’s googling.
he’s finding you one way or another. he learns you just graduated from Michigan State (and he cringes a little), and you just moved here for a job at the hospital. you’re 23, almost 24. you’re a pisces he’s learned, you really like music that screams in his year and taylor swift. it doesn’t make sense to him but that’s okay. he can live with it.
he finds out you live in his building. he sees you walking into the mail room and opening up box 117, that’s the floor below his. he’s learned you leave every Monday through friday at 5:30am and get home at 6:30pm. he hasn’t talked to you yet, just left flowers and dinners at your door.
he was getting out of his car when he saw you park yours. perfect, he’s thinking. he makes himself look busy while he waits for you to get to the elevator. making sure no one else is around, he’s walking to your car and sticking an air tag under your car. he’s gotta make sure you’re okay.
that following friday, he sees your at work still and against all better judgment goes down to the front desk and talks his way into getting a spare key to your apartment. he apologizes profusely to the desk, “i’m sorry my girlfriend didn’t leave hers under the mat and i’m supposed to surprise her tonight.” and who’s gonna say no to the beloved teams captain? no one.
that’s how he ended up in your apartment, placing cameras in hidden spots. he needs to learn your daily routine. what makes you tick. what you sound like when you moan.
once he’s found his way to your bedroom, he notices a pile of laundry on the floor. messy, messy girl. his eyes set on a lacy pair of underwear closer to your bed and he’s grabbing them before his brain even has time to stop him.
he made it home just in time. as soon as his doors closing, he gets a notification yours opened.
he’s pulling the cameras to see your pulling your top off and walking towards your room. his hands moving down to his sweats, trying to push them down enough when he hears your voice say his name.
“Quinn. yeah that’s the upstairs guys. no i haven’t talked to him much at all. yes he’s cute. very cute actually. but i don’t stand a chance. his face is fucking on the side of an arena dude, all i need is 10 minutes.” followed by some laughter.
baby, you’re getting more than 10 minutes.
he’s banging on your door before he knows it. as soon as your open the door, robe covering your top half, he’s pushing his way in.
“close the door.” he can see your face flushed and the anxiety all but falling from your eyes.
“you wanted 10 minutes? you can have 10 minutes but as soon as those 10 minutes are up? you’re mine. mine to use, to watch, to brand, to have, to do whatever i want with. isn’t that right? been practically begging me for months now. so why don’t you get on your knees and prove your worth?”
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andillneverbethesame ¡ 9 months ago
Note
omg i love your writing!! could you do a taylor swift song prompt of “so high school” x james potter? potentially with a ravenclaw reader?
looove this! so high school is absolutely james coded aaaaa. this is so short but i hope u enjoy anyway<33
so high school
❥ james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader
❥ warnings; none really
❥ word count; 1.2k
❥ my ts masterlists; pt 1 & pt 2
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"oi, james!" sirius called his best mate and gestured for james to sit next to him as if he wasn't going to do that anyway.
"good morning, everybody," james smiled at his friendgroup, his eyes lingering on you a tiny bit longer than on anyone else, making your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up. you glanced back Down on your plate in hopes to hide it.
"james," sirius spoke up again, "marry, kiss or kill; lily, marlene, y/n."
"well, we all know who'd he want to marry," marlene said in a low voice, only for you and lily to hear. lily snorted and you lightly elbowed her.
the girls were convinced that james fancies you just as much as you fancied him. however, you found that hard to believe that someone so perfect like him could like someone like you.
james frowned. "i don't like this game."
sirius rolled his eyes. "oh, come on, you just don't want to say it out loud so you don't hurt anyone's feelings." he tapped on his ear. "whisper it to me."
james lowered his head at the level of his best friend's ear and whispered his answer. you girls tried your best to read his lips but it was no use.
"oh." an amused look appeared on sirius's face and he looked at you. you stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.
come on, james. are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?
——————————————————————
the gryffindor quidditch team won the cup.
just when it seemed that they were going to lose against hufflepuffs, james caught the snitch, making the score 250 - 260 for the reds.
you were never more proud of him than in that very moment. you jumped from your seat and yelled his name in a cheering tone, clapping so hard your hands almost hurt. like if he heard you, his brown eyes found yours in the crowd. he grinned and sent you a wink and a kiss. james was thanking you, you were his lucky charm.
that night, the gryffindors threw the biggest party ever. it was many student's last game at hogwarts so it was also a goodbye party. all of the team members were there and talked about the match and their time playing together in general.
quidditch wasn't your thing. you were the stereotypical ravenclaw and you'd much rather be in your bed, under cover and reading a book. but james practically begged you to be there. after all, it was thanks to you that they won. you knew that wasn't the truth but you couldn't say no to him and you were glad you didn't. he looked so happy and beautiful and you couldn't help but admire him.
"let's play truth or dare!" marlene's voice rang through the common room and every person there agreed.
"i think i'm gonna go back to my dorm, it's late," you yelled over the loud music into james's ear.
"nooo," james pouted and give you a puppy look, he got a hold of your hand. "you can't leave now. please? just stay here for ten more minutes."
you sighed. you hated how easily you'll do anything he says.
"alright," you said and let him drag you to the circle of people in the middle of the room. a lot of people had gone to sleep already or some could be found vomiting in the bathroom so there weren't a lot of you. you sat down next to each other and waited for the game to start.
marlene picked up an empty whiskey bottle and spun it around. it landed on mary and she groaned, knowing that her friend has some of the most. . . interesting questions and dares.
"mary," marlene grinned widely. "truth or dare?"
"truth."
the blonde took a few seconds to think of a question before asking, "the freakiest place you did it at."
"that would be. . . a bed of one of my dorm mates."
"what?" lily, alice and marlene asked in terror, each of them wondering whose bed was it.
mary smiled innocently. "my turn," she spun the bottle. and then, everyone glanced at the boy beside you. you let out a sigh of relief.
"jamie, truth o—"
"dare."
a devilish smile crept onto the girl's lips.
"kiss y/n."
your eyes went wide as the people around you let out an "oooooh".
"mary!" you hissed. "what the f—"
before you could finish your sentence, you were rudely interrupted.
he tasted of— well, alcohol. rum and coke, to be exact. but it didn't matter. he was kissing you, and your whole body was on fire, your heart rate raised to at least hundred more beats per minute and fireworks. it was maybe cliché, yes. but it was the truth.
before you could fully register what the hell was happening, he was pulling away, making your lips feel cold at the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth.
his gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes.
"i imagined our first kiss differently," he spoke in a low voice so only you could hear, sounding disappointed. he reached for the bottle and spun it around so the game could continue.
you stared at him for at least ten more seconds. you couldn't believe what just happened and what he said after.
and you started to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.
——————————————————————
and in a blink of a crinkling eye, you were at sirius's and remus's apartment, sitting on james's lap in the living room. all of your boyfriend’s closest friends were there and just like any other saturday night, you had a film night. tonight, it was american pie.
james and you started dating only recently. it’s been a month,to be exact. so everything felt still really new. and you felt embarrassing for the fact that he still had the same effect on you like when you were bittersweet sixteen. it takes you back to the times when you used to admire him only from afar. but now, you get to kiss him. you get to touch him. 
like, for example, he was just touching you. as you tried to stifle your sighs, everyone seemed to be paying a great attention to the film. except for you two, of course. you coud not focus when james was constantly placing kisses in the crook of your neck and your shoulders.  you could not focus when one of his hands was drawing on the skin of yourupper thigh. you could not focus when his hot  breath made you shudder.
“james,”  you sighed quietly. “you got to stop.”
“and why would i do that?” he whispered back.
you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re horrible.”
he shrugged. “you love me.”
oh, you did.
out of the blue, he spoke louder, “guys, me and y/n are sorry but we’re pretty tired so we’re headed home.”
huh?
all of your friends looked at each other and than back at you, saying “suuuuureee” in union.
“james, why are we leaving?” you ran outside after him.
he turned around and smiled. “you already know.”
“aw, we’re horrible!” you pouted playfully. “we’re abandoning our friends to have sex.”
“i’m sure they understand,” he said as he opened the door of his car. “remus and sirius used to do that all the time.”
you burst out laughing and let him pull you to the back seat.
no one’s ever had you, not like him.
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juyeonszn ¡ 1 year ago
Text
BAD IDEA RIGHT?
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PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader
WORD COUNT 4.10k
GENRES … smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol
SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.
MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble
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If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.
To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.
Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.
You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.
The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.
The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.
You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.
“Woah, do you want a cushion?”
You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.
“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.
“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.
“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”
He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.
“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.
“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.
“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”
“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”
“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”
“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.
Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)
“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.
“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”
“Bro…”
You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.
“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”
“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”
“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”
You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.
“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.
“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.
You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.
The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”
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“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”
“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.
The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.
Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.
[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT
[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP
“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.
But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.
“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.
Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”
Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.
“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”
“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.
The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.
“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.
You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.
“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.
The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.
As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”
He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.
There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.
Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.
You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?
As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.
“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”
You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”
He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”
“Positive,” you breathe.
“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”
You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”
That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.
His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.
When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”
“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”
“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”
“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”
“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.
“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”
“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”
The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.
“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.
You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”
“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”
“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”
He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.
When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.
“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”
“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”
You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.
He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.
You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.
“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”
“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”
“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”
Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”
The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:
What the hell do you do now?
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Š juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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hearts4golbach ¡ 4 months ago
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Friday Night Lights.
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kinktober day two: uniform.
"Look at you. Getting your uniform all dirty just for me, yeah?"
pairing:
Revenge!Gerard Way x Fem!Reader.
a/n:
Can you tell I've been in cheer? (sarcasm, but I have.)
kinda proofread
warnings:
smut, pet names (sugar, angel, good girl, pretty girl) choking— if you squint, unprotected sex, semi-public, riding,
word count:
1.7k
. . .
"Defense, attack!" You cheered from the sidelines, waving your pom's around. "Sack that quarterback!" Your short cheer skirt barely covered your ass as you jumped around. It was only a few seconds before you returned to your plastered position facing the field.
Your boyfriend, Gerard, always went to the football games. No, he didn't like nor enjoy sports, but he always wanted to support you in every way he could. So, there he was, watching you intently as you cheered for your schools football team (which wasn't even that good, honestly).
Frank sat next to him. He seemed to be somewhat interested in what was going on below. Did he know anything about football? Of course not. Gerard figured he just liked to watch men throw around balls and tackle each other.
Anyway, Gerard always believed green was your color, especially after seeing how perfectly your white and green uniform complimented you. He could barely take his eyes off of you. The two piece hugged you perfectly. Frank had to snap Gerard out of a trance multiple times just to talk to him.
There was something different about that game. Maybe it was the way you flipped your headache-high ponytail or the way you held eye contact the entire time you were cheering. What he did know was that he could barely wait until the game was over.
"Go! Fight! Go, fight, win!" You whipped around to continue the cheer. Your gaze soon fell on Gerard. You shook your pom's with enthusiasm, ending the cheer with a kick. He shot you a wink, smirking he watched your face glow red.
"You're going to need to catch another ride home, Frankie." Gerard explained.
"I fuckin' knew it," He rolled his eyes, "I'll just call Ray, dick." He muttered under his breath. "I'm gonna go get food."
"You do that." Gerard teased.
It was finally quarter 4. Gerard's leg shook impatiently. He only looked away from you whenever Frank came back with greasy stadium food. You caught his attention again when you started counting off the points on the scoreboard. The whole team began counting all the way to 35, ending with you doing the final kick. Gerard couldn't help but marvel at how flexible you were. His mind began to wonder once more before the flashing lights signifying a touch down began, to which you began cheering once more. A soft smile creeped onto Gerard's face.
Eventually, the game ended. Gerard pushed his way through the crowd of grinning teenagers to get to you. He met you at the barricade and you immediately intertwined your fingers with his.
"You were amazing, as always." Gerard gushed, placing a kiss on your temple as the two of you made your way out of the stadium. "wanna go get somethin' to eat, sugar?"
You simply nodded, cuddling into his side to avoid the other teens surrounding you. With the cold October winds, the heat radiating from him helped you warm up. Not to mention, your uniform barely covered anything.
Gerard wrapped his leather jacket around your shoulders. You blushed as his hand trailed down to your waist, slowly moving down to your hip. Any small move made by gerard still made you weak in the knees.
His fingers teased the hem of your skirt, which was shielded from the public by his jacket. Gerard knew exactly what made you tick.
"Gee," you whispered in attempt to grab his attention.
He hummed in response, continuing to drag you out to the car. The anticipation had you soaked. You climbed into the passenger seat, attempting to be secretive about how aroused you were as you crossed your legs. Of course he knew. Gerard could read you like a book.
His hand rested gently on your upper thigh as he drove. His thumb needed your soft, exposed flesh. "I was thinking we should go to [favorite fast food restaurant]. We can get it to go and I'll take you home. How does that sound, angel?"
You cleared your throat in an attempt to ground yourself. Your thoughts were everywhere but the present moment. You simply nodded and glanced over to see a small smirk plastered on his face.
He pulled into the drive through and ordered, because why wouldn't he have your order memorized?
"Y'know what, Gee? Maybe we should go find somewhere to park and eat. I don't really want to go home yet." You readjusted once more.
"Of course," He placed a kiss on your forehead before collecting the food.
He took you to your guys' spot, the one you two always went to to 'hang out.'
Even though Gerard had a really shitty car, the back seats went down so you two had a comfortable area in the back to sit.
You climbed into the back and Gerard followed with the food. You cuddled up next to him and ate in silence. Gerard poured about how well you did and sarcastically ranted about how Frank 'ruined his overall experience.' You knew he was joking. Kinda.
You laid on his chest. Both of you had finished eating and you were complaining about the extensive conditioning you had to do for cheer. Once it was silent again, Gerard turned your head so that you were looking at him. "Y'know, you're so gorgeous." He smiled down at you before pressing his lips onto yours.
You returned the kiss with more intensity. Without hesitation, he moved you so that you were in his lap. Your hands trailed up his chest and you tugged at his hair, eliciting a moan from him.
Seeing as he couldn't get his hands up your top, (it was too tight for your own good, but that fact turned him on further,) he settled on slowly moving his hands up your thighs and under your skirt. He scrunched it around your waist, leaving your spanks exposed.
He gripped your ass, grinding you down onto his already hard, clothed cock. "Someone's impatient," you teased, kissing along his jawline.
He grunted in response, regaining control. You hurriedly unbuttoned his jeans, making him giggle. "Now who's impatient?" His cock sprung out of his boxers. He hissed as he felt the chilly autumn air. He pulled down your spanks, pulling your panties off with them as he muttered, "you're so pretty, angel."
"Prove it," you challenged, making him roll his eyes before smirking up at you mischievously.
"You want me to prove it?" He asked between kisses. It was almost rhetorical, the way he questioned you. He gripped your neck to pull you closer. "Why don't you ride my cock like the good girl you are and I will."
You caved under his gaze, nodding eagerly. He hummed in approval and slid his hand up to your mouth. You spit on his hand, allowing him to lube up his throbbing dick with your saliva. You let out soft moans as he ran his tip along your entrance. "Gee- please," he slipped inside of you without warning, making you cry out as he stretched you open. He dug his fingers into the sensitive flesh of your hips as you began to move.
Gerard moaned, "look at you. Getting your uniform all dirty just for me, yeah?" You sat on his cock, allowing his tip to brush against your g-spot.
You bit down on your lip, letting out a high pitched moan in response. "Oh, shit, Gee.."
"Hmm," he hummed. His hips thrusted up in time with your movement as you continued to bounce on his cock.
He let out choked off moans. He reached down to rub circles on your clit with his thumb as strings of moans and curses escaped your lips. His hand trailed up to your chest, kneeling your breast through your uniform. He moved his hands back down to your waist and began to kiss along your neck. You squeezed your eyes shut as all you could hear was Gerard's moans and groans.
"Always so goddamn tight for me, sweetheart. You look so fuckin' good like this," he began to move you faster. You dropped your head as you let out a moan. He brushed your g-spot with each thrust, making your walls clench around him.
"Oh fuck, don't stop!" You squeeled as he sucked dark hickeys into your neck. It took him no time to find your sweet spot. He relished the noise you made whenever he gently sunk his teeth into your neck.
He pulled you back to his mouth and kissed you passionately. The two of you breathed heavily into the kiss as the pace never slowed. You bit down on his lip, making a low whimper escape from his lips. He pulled away from you and admired how hot you looked on top of him. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of you. He smirked, letting out a breathy chuckle. "I love the way your thighs shake," he kissed along your jawline. "Just wait til i'm done with you. We might have to skip school tomorrow."
You couldn't help but laugh as the car began to get stuffier by the second. "Gee- 'm so close.."
"Yeah? Tell me who's pussy this is, pretty girl. Then, I'll let you cum." A smug smirk was plastered on his face as he rubbed your clit with quick motions.
You jolted at the sensation, making you want to scream. "Fuck- yours! I'm yours, Gee!"
He hummed in approval. He peppered your face in neck in kissed, "cum for me," he demanded in between.
You collapsed onto his chest as you felt your walls spasm around his cock. He helped you ride out your orgasm, gripping your ass and moving you up and down with slow movements. He released his seed deep inside of you. The car was filled with heavy breaths and the smell of sex.
Gerard let out a low sigh, "fuck, I love you." He placed a kiss on your forehead before pecking your lips.
"I love you," you mumbled against his lips. "Stay the night?" You pulled back to make eye contact with him.
"Of course."
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moonstruckme ¡ 1 year ago
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Steve x black cat! reader pls. I feel this paring is always necessary 😌
Thanks for requesting!
Steve Harrington x black cat!reader ♡ 625 words
You glower at your boyfriend through the dark lens of your sunglasses. “Don’t come near me with that.” 
Steve smiles cajolingly, approaching with the sunscreen nonetheless. “C’mon, babe, you didn’t come out here just to sit under this umbrella all day.” 
“You know I did.” You dart your stare pointedly to where the pale rocks are growing little puddles of lake water underneath his feet. “If you come over here and drip on my book—” 
“Put the book away,” he coaxes. And he’s convincing, all shiny skin and even shinier smile and his pretty hair stuck damply to his forehead and the back of his neck. One tiny strand curls inward over the curve of his cheekbone, and you want terribly to slick it back in with the others but any affectionate gesture right now would feel too close to giving in. “Lemme put some sunscreen on you so you can come swim with the rest of us.” 
“I’m fine here.” 
“It’s really nice out there.” Steve sits down next to you like a mirror image, his hands by your feet and his feet next to your butt. “The lake’s not too cold or anything, you might like it.” 
You suck your teeth. “I’m just trying to enjoy my book, Steve.” 
He angles his head. “What, you don’t want to spend time with me?” 
You angle your head right back, deadpan. “Don’t.” 
“You know, Max really loves you,” he says, squirting a dollop of sunscreen into his hand and starting to smooth it up your calf. You wrinkle your nose at the smell. “She thinks you’re the coolest. Beats me why, but it’d probably make her week if you went out there.” You’re quiet, and he goes on, encouraged. He works the sunscreen over your knee, hands chaste and purposeful as they run the length of your thigh. “Plus, you know, you can read your book anytime, but these warm days are only gonna last so long before it’s freezing and snowy outside again.” 
“I like when it’s freezing and snowy,” you say, setting your book down on top of your bag before one of you gets sunscreen on it.
“I know, but you won’t be getting the gun show when I’m all hidden under ten layers, y’know?” 
Steve raises his eyebrows at you, and you look away from him, biting down on your smile. You feel more than see your boyfriend’s answering grin, spreading like a blight over his pretty face. He starts on your other leg. 
“And if you come hang out, I’ve got an ice cream sandwich in the cooler with your name on it.” He brushes his thumb over the side of your knee sweetly. “Been saving it for you.” 
You soften. A bit. “You could bring it to me here,” you point out. 
Steve shakes his head, frowning as if he really doesn’t know who’s making these rules and wishes he could change them for you. “Can’t, sorry. Frozen treats are only for those of us out there braving the sun.” 
You cross your arms. “You make it sound so pleasant.” 
He takes one of your arms in his hands, disentangling your defensive stance to continue slathering you in sunscreen. “It’s really not bad,” he says. “Between the ice cream and the cool water, you can pretend it’s winter if you want.” 
“Steve!” You both look out towards the lake, and Robin is waving him over. “Stop flirting with your girlfriend and come back here. We need more people to play chicken!” 
Steve gives you a pleading look. 
“I’m not getting wet,” you tell him firmly. 
He grins and takes your hand, lotion-slicked palm sliding against your own as he pulls you up. “You won’t on my team, don’t worry.”
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ddejavvu ¡ 1 year ago
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hello!! i hope you’re doing well ❤️ i just read your hotch fic where he sneaks his wife and jack into the hotel room and i was wondering if you’d write something similar where jack is with jess or something and someone from the team catches hotch and reader going into his room except they can’t tell it’s reader and think hotch is cheating and they love the reader and can’t stand the idea of letting them get cheated on so maybe they confront him or call reader while reader is with hotch to tell her or something funny, whatever you find fitting. thank you if you get to this ❤️
i actually fucking adored this idea thank you <333
--
Emily's always taken Hotch for an honorable man. He's chivalrous, opening doors for the ladies on the team and walking them to their cars to be sure that they're safe in parking lots. It's instilled in his very being to be kind to women, so when she sees him trying to cover up a head of blue-dyed hair as he fumbles with the lock on his hotel room, she's perplexed.
That's not you. You don't have blue hair. But Hotch's arm is around her waist, and she's leaning into his side. His hand is more than generous over her skin, even slipping into the hemline of her shorts, and Emily's blood boils.
Aaron's got a grin on his face that she can just barely see without being seen herself, and he sounds all-too-happy to be leading another woman into his hotel room after hours when he chuckles at her advances. She rushes for the bed and Emily has to duck back into her room so as not to be seen when the woman rights herself on the bed, and there's something sickly brewing in her gut as she shuts her door again. She no longer has an appetite to raid the vending machine like she'd planned, so she heads back to her twin bed, hand digging into her pajama pants to retrieve her phone.
Spencer' who's occupying the second bed in the room, looks up inquisitively from his book, "I thought you were going to the vending machine, what happened?"
"Hotch just let some girl into his room. I mean- like, he brought her in, he had his hands all over her and she ran to the bed."
Reid's brows rise towards his scruffy hairline, pink lips downturned, "It wasn't Y/N?"
"She had blue hair," Prentiss shakes her head, "I'm gonna tell her."
"I want to help," Spencer rises from his bed, quickly crossing the room to her own, "I don't want to make her sad, but we can't keep it from her."
Emily nods, but Spencer keeps talking, "I... I can't believe Hotch would do something like that."
"Neither can I." Emily admits, clicking on your text thread. It's heavily decorated with hearts both in the messages and your contact name, and she hopes yours doesn't break when you find out what your husband's been doing behind your back.
Y/N, she types, I don't know how to tell you this, and I wish someone else would, because I don't want to be the one to break your sweet heart. But I just saw Aaron bring some blue-haired girl into his room, and if I'm being honest with you, I think they're having sex. I'm SO sorry honey, I wish I could do something, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't tell you. Please call me and tell me what's going on with you, I don't want you to be alone all night, and PLEASE don't slip away if you and Aaron don't work things out. For the record I'm rooting for you to dump his sorry ass, but I know you'll need time to work things out. All I ask is that you don't shut us out, honey, please don't let him change the way you feel about us.
P.S Reid is here too and we're both here if you want to talk. We can face-time and we'll be there for you as best we can, baby.
And also you can sleep at my place.
Or Spence's. He says he can sleep on the couch if you want his bed.
I'm so sorry, Y/N, we love you.
Emily can't have pressed send on the last text ten seconds ago before there's a series of urgent knocks on the door. Her guard is up immediately, and she almost considers ignoring it because she's sure it's Hotch coming to tell her off for exposing him. She figures you must have called him, upset, and he's here to ask her to lie for him.
The knocks don't stop, though, and Reid's the one that marches for the door, face set in a glare that's unusually menacing for him. He's deduced the same series of events, but when he swings the door open with as much sass as he can muster, his posture stiffens with shock.
Aaron is on the other side of the door, but you're standing in front of him, hair bright blue, face sheepish.
"Hi Em," You smile at her, then at Reid, "Spence. I was going to join you all for breakfast tomorrow and unveil it, but- um, I think now's a good time to tell you that I dyed my hair blue."
"Oh." Emily hums, mouth hung slightly open, "So it's- it was you."
"it was me," You nod, "But thank you for telling me. I'm glad I can count on you. Both of you," Your eyes flit to Spencer, who's equally astonished as he inspects your new hair dye.
"Oh, that means-" Emily's face wrinkles suddenly, looking at your waist that Aaron's got a hold of as he stands behind you, "Gross, you two were gonna- in the hotel!"
Spencer groans, rushing away from the door and retreating back to his bed where his novel lies.
"It's after hours!" You insist, "It's not like we were doing it in the precinct on government time. We're adults, Emily."
"We're adults too, y'know. With work in the morning. We can't be kept up all hours of the night by your racket! Just go get it over with," She grimaces, "And- hey! Try to get into your room this time before reaching your hand down her pants, perv!"
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melodeebarnes ¡ 3 months ago
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"What am I gonna do with you?"
Two mini stories of how your nicknames for Bucky developed.
No warnings, just fluff.
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You were the new recruit for the team. Only being a part of The Avengers for a few short days, you were still meeting all of the members, and learning everyone’s names. You obviously know them by their superhero names, but you’re still getting used to their real names.
You stand, in the kitchen of the Stark tower, pouring a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee. You’ve never been one to like plain black coffee, It’s just too bitter for your taste. Setting down the pot, you look up to see someone standing right next to the fridge containing the coffee creamer.
You wait a moment, hoping he’ll move, but his conversation with Steve lasts much longer than your patients with no caffeine. “Ahem.” You clear your throat, to no avail. You pause, building up the courage to speak to him. That’s when you realize you don’t know his name. Well, you’ve heard it, but you can’t quite remember what it is. You know him as The Winter Soldier, but you know it’s probably not the best name to call him, especially if you want to make a good impression as a new recruit. Suddenly, he gives you a weirded out look. That’s when you realize, through all of your thinking, you we’re just starring at him. You quickly look away. 
Your need for coffee is growing thicker, and patients is growing thinner. That’s when you say the first thing that comes to mind. “Hey, Metal Man. Can you hand me the coffee creamer?” The words sur[ass your lips, before you can stop them.
He looks over, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted, speechless. “Metal Man?” He asks.
“Uhm, yeah. Your metal arm and all.” You explain. 
“It’s vibrainium.” He corrects, looking down to his arm for only a moment, before bringing his ocean blue eyes back to you.
“Oh..” You awkwardly respond. “Eh Metal Man just sounds better.” You shrug.
“Metal Man?” Sam laughs obnoxiously loud. “Oh, I’m definitely using that one from now on.” He pats the six foot super soldier on the back twice, before walking away. 
“Sorry, Buck. That one’s gonna stick.” Steve chuckles.
Buck…you linger on the name, Bucky! Right, that’s it.
Bucky glares over at you. 
“So uhm…” You pause, “Coffee creamer?”
_____________________________________________________________
“Plink…plink…plink..” The droplets of water sound, as they fall into the bucket in the middle of the room, gradually filling with water.
The roof has a leak in it, which was discovered when rain from the thunderous storm outside started leaking through.
“Tony, how does a billionaire like you get a leaky roof?” You ask.
“I didn’t build this place, I just bought it.” He shrugs. “All I know is someone’s getting fired. I paid way too much for this tower to have a leaky roof.” He shakes his head in annoyance.
You roll your eyes. You’ve never understood Tony or his way of thinking, as you’ve never been rich, or an egotistical man.You keep your mouth shut, however. The benefits of being acquainted with one come in handy every once in a while. 
Your gaze falls back down to your book, finding where you last left off, rather quickly. You read as the hypnotic pattern deepens your focus of the story. 
It’s only when footsteps sound, getting gradually louder as they approach the room, interrupting. Pulling you from the trance.
You look up, seeing Bucky walk in, eyeing the bucket then over to you. “What’re you reading?” He asks, nodding to the book in your hands.
“Twisted hate.” You answer. “It’s a part of a romance book series I started a few weeks ago.”
“Interesting.” He nods, pretending to understand anything you’re saying. He walks into the kitchen, opening the fridge. You watch as he pulls out some leftover sushi he brought back a couple days ago from his lunch date. He looks up at you, keeping his head down towards the counter. “You want some?” He offers.
You debate your answer for just a moment, “Sure.” You close the book, and stand up. You walk over to the counter, and sit on a bar stool, facing Bucky.
He splits the sushi evenly between the two of you. 
“Thank you.” You smile. It’s been a few months since you got recruited and you’ve gotten to know Bucky quite well. 
He nods, eating a piece of the dragon roll.
You take a bite, then look over your shoulder noticing the bucket filling up rather quickly.
“Hey Bucket, would you mind emptying the Bucky?” The words leave your lips before you even notice the error.
He looks at you with his face all scrunched up.You take a moment to realize what you just said. You close your eyes, embarrassed and laugh at yourself.
“What was that?” He teases. 
“Bucky, would you mind emptying the water out of the bucket?” You correct your question.
“Sure thing, Doll.” He laughs, making his way to the Bucket.
“You know what? Your name does kind of sound like Bucket.” You raise your brows, with the idea glistening too bright to ignore.
He stops in his tracts, giving you a knowing look. “Don’t even think about it.” He warns.
“Too late. Already done.” You beam.
“What am I gonna do with you?” He shakes his head, but you can tell he secretly finds amusement in your shenanigans by the smile breaching his lips.
The list of answers you have to that question could go on for miles, but he’s not allowed to know that. You keep it short and sweet. “You’re the one who gets to answer that.”
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msbigredmachine ¡ 5 months ago
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You Again - Flashback
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A/N: A snippet of Evelyn and Joe in high school. I'm still completing Part 2 which hopefully should be up soon.
Warning: Themes of bullying
Word Count: 1.1k
READ PART 1 HERE
Escambia High School, October 2000
“Hey Evie!”
She is so startled she collides with her locker door, her books nearly flying out of her hands. It takes a couple of seconds to regain her bearings and realize who is standing in front of her, and it’s not anyone she’s expecting, certainly not the captain of the cheer team.
“Ayesha,” Evie straightens, awkwardly shoving her books back inside her locker and adjusting her skewed glasses. “Umm, did you…did you want something?” she asks, her arms crossed protectively over herself. They’re not friends - Ayesha has never hesitated to remind her of this - so she wonders why she is here, flashing a megawatt smile that one could mistake to be amiable. 
“So…don’t trip,” Ayesha begins, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “but I found your note in History class.”
For a second she’s confused, and then it hits her. Oh no. Oh god. She tries to play dumb, fighting the urge to look into her History textbook where she’d thought she’d tucked her little, ill-advised daydream away in one of its pages, safe from the prying eyes of the queen of the mean girls. “W-What? What note?” 
“The note you wrote, silly. I think you dropped it on the floor, you really need to be more careful, girl,” Ayesha giggles.
It’s a lie and they both know it. Evie wouldn’t be so stupid as to expose such damning evidence, let alone discard it haphazardly in class of all places. Her brain is working frantically, trying to figure out how on earth Ayesha got hold of it to begin with. Each student had to present their History paper in front of the entire class, and she suspects Ayesha swiped the note from her desk when it was her turn. It’s not hard to imagine the malicious glee in her eyes as she read the contents, not too different from the one she is trying and failing to hide right this moment:
Dear Joe, Would you like to go to the Fall Ball with me? YES   NO
“Okay,” Evie starts tentatively, treading lightly. “So can I have the note back? Please?”
Ayesha’s eyes widen dramatically. “Oh! I gave it to Joe. I saw his name on it. The note was for him, right?”
Evie feels her heart sink to Titanic depths, her insides heavy from the weight of this shattering news. The magnitude of the trouble she's put herself in brings tears to her eyes but she quickly blinks them away before Ayesha adds it to her ammunition. “Oh…I, uh…it wasn’t for…You’re mistaken, the note was for another Joe-” she starts to backtrack.
“Oh girl, there’s only one Joe in this school who matters and we all know who he is,” Ayesha dismisses flippantly. “Why you so worried anyway? I come bearing good news. He asked me to give you this.” She extends her hand, a piece of paper that looked torn out of a legal pad tucked between her fingers. Eyeing her skeptically, Evie takes it, her anxiety rising as she unfolds it and reads the familiar scribble:
Dear Evie,
Meet me under the bleachers at lunch.
Joe.
Against her better judgment, her heart flutters at his invitation, excitement bubbling inside her just knowing he responded to her. But common sense swoops in, and she stammers, shaking her head, “Look, I don’t…this isn’t necessary at all…Please, let’s just forget that any of this happened-”
“Girl, are you seriously chickening out on Joe Anoa’i?” Ayesha counters. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you and you’re turning it down?”
Evie makes one last throw of the dice, desperate to get out of this predicament. "But why are you doing this? Isn't he your boyfriend?"
"It's...complicated," Ayesha answers easily, placing a hand on Evie's shoulder. “Sweetie, any girl would kill to be in your shoes right now. Who knows, he might say yes. Are you really gonna throw that away because you’re scared?”
Terrified, actually. Not much good comes out of interacting with Joe Anoa’i when you’re not a member of his precious clique. But Ayesha is right. A private meeting with the most popular boy in school is too enticing to pass up, if only this once. So Evie forces herself to wait through the agonizing hour and a half before lunchtime, embroiled in thoughts of how their conversation will go. 
It turns out she should have trusted her gut, because the minute she steps onto the field, something feels off. 
Joe is not here. Outside is eerily quiet save for the muted bustling inside the cafeteria a few feet away. Chalking it up to him standing her up, Evie permits herself to exhale a huge sigh of relief and spins back towards the building, eager to forget all about the mess she almost made.
Then, it happens. Out of the shadows, they step out, seemingly from every corner of the stands. Jon. Josh. Ayesha and her lackeys, Kelli and Chichi. All of them emerging one by one until she is surrounded by his entire posse.
And last but not least, Joe appears like some kind of video game final boss. He steps between the twins, both of whom stare her down with the same demeanor as vultures circling over a carcass. He twirls her letter between his long fingers, his handsome face wearing a sugary sweet smile and a spiteful glint in his eye that strikes terror in Evie.
“So, Evie…I read your little message to me. It was…sweet. Real cute,” he says, coming closer to her, humored by the way she tenses as he towers over her. “I just have one question…” 
He gently trails the corner of the note along her cheek. The gesture would be considered as intimate if his eyes didn't harbor so much malevolence. “Did you really think my answer would be yes?”
The group bursts into laughter, the sounds cruel and taunting. Joe circles around her, regarding her with the same countenance as a piece of gum stuck underneath his Air Max sneakers. “What makes you think I’d ever wanna go to the dance with a nobody like you? Huh?” He throws an arm around Ayesha and kisses her cheek. "Babe, didn't you tell her you were going with me?"
Ayesha crosses her arms and shrugs with fake nonchalance, an even faker smile on her pretty face. "I wanted to...but it was much more fun fuckin' with her head."
She should have known better. Better than to write that shit in the first place. Known that Ayesha was setting her up from the start; known that standing her up or simply ignoring her was too merciful, too tame for Joe and his coven.
It’s beyond humiliating, and all Evie wants is for the ground to swallow her whole.
Ayesha steps up to her, angling her head low enough to catch Evie’s teary-eyed expression. “Awww, are you gonna cry? You gon’ cry bitch? You thirsty-ass pathetic loser?”
Ayesha's arms shoot out, shoving Evie so hard that she falls over, crying out as her knees collide painfully with the ground. Her glasses slip off her face and onto the cold dewy grass and dirt. Her tears splash onto the cracked lenses as they all step past her fallen frame, their cackles echoing in her ears long after they are gone.
--------------------------------------------------
Fun fact: A version of this incident happened to me in high school in real life. Only difference is I wasn't pushed. 😭😭😭
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