#I literally don't have time for anything this month *screams*
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Random thoughts with MHA men!
☁︎Lowkey just a heap of stupid ideas I had for different characters I thought were funny/ cute. Might extend on a few of these into longer fics if I find the time :) ☁︎Going back to finishing some requests after this! Sometimes read and can't process what I just read so might take a while to finish them all! Feel free to request but might be a bit slow at the moment, but I'll get through them when I can! ☁︎Not really any warnings other than swearing (Tried to keep it to a minimum but habit when I can't think of a fitting word)! Gn/ unspecified reader :))
╰┈➤ Katsuki Bakugo who follows a strict routine he set for himself to get the most out of the day, in bed by exactly 8:30. Yet he coincidently always happens to be awake when you try to sneak in and cuddle under the covers with him. Gets annoyed at you for "interfering" with his schedule, but he never lets himself fall asleep if he knows your planning to visit, even if at ridiculous hours of the night. ╰┈➤ Shoto Todoroki who lacks certain aspects of understanding when it comes to social cues, specifically the idea of personal space after you start dating. Will stand behind you breathing down your neck just wanting to be near you, not realising how odd it appears to anyone passing by. Similarly, will practically sit ON you instead of beside you, squeezing between you and anyone/anything so he can sit right beside you.
╰┈➤ Izuku Midoriya who often forgets or simply doesn't realise when his habit of rambling starts, sometimes scaring the shit out of you when he suddenly breaks the silence. Will need you to sometimes cover his mouth when out in public before he says something that would accidently make any sane person uncomfortable. Talked about murder out of context at least a few times and got y'all kicked out of somewhere </3
╰┈➤ Tenya Iida who understands the concept of money and it's overall value, but frankly doesn't care when it comes to you. Buys you awfully expensive items that reminds him of you/ thinks you'll like, hiding just how much he actually spent so you don't reject it (you know, you just don't have the heart to tell him.) Will gift you like it's only something small and beat himself up for not getting you something better (It cost more than what you make in 3 months). Prides himself on responsibility but it all falls out the window when about his decisions around you.
╰┈➤ Eijiro Kirishima who shows you off like some sort of deity, constantly praising anything and everything you do. Accidently degrades himself while praising you, saying how he doesn't deserve you (he's literally an angel :(( ). Will do anything for you, if you ask him or not, choosing to show just how much he loves you through his actions not just words. Tells you he loves you at least 5 times a day <3
╰┈➤ Neito Monoma who respects you even if you're in class 1a, never speaking poorly of you even when shitting on your class. Stops whenever you're nearby and starts acting all sweet like he wasn't badmouthing each of your classmates to their faces minutes prior. Another one who worships your every movement and the ground you walk on, but instead of degrading himself puts everyone else but the both of you down. (My favourite little menace)
╰┈➤ Hitoshi Shinsou who without fail whenever you're alone hands you some random ass cat inspired thing that reminded him of you. First it was a small succulent pot, next some really doped out looking cat plushie, then a little keychain of a black cat with a witches hat.. it just kept going. Gets you wondering how he manages to keep finding these objects, and how he always manages to have one when you see each other unplanned (He has a little hidden pocket where he stores the little strange trinkets) ╰┈➤ Rody Soul who sometimes activates his quirk, summoning Pino, at the most random hours of night. Will get woken up by your sudden screams, thinking you had a nightmare only for it to have been Pino scaring the shit out of you by sitting on your chest in the middle of the night and scrutinizing your very being (lovingly). Has been forced as a result to spend the next day begging for forgiveness for Pino's actions (He had a dream of you and she was just admiring you with the same level of affection as him, just hers a bit more creepy..)
╰┈➤ Mirio togata who even after years of practice with his quirk, happens to forget what activating it in normal clothes does. Has tried to phase through the ground to surprise you with his sudden appearance just to end up flashing you, both of you now sitting in embarrassment while your struggling to breathe through your laughter. Apologises before joining you in going along with your everyday life (It will happen again)
╰┈➤ Tamaki Amajiki who uses you as a form of protection, not from physical danger but from people trying to communicate with you both. Will hold your hand in his and stand right against your back, head often against yours or on your shoulder while he lets you talk for him as well as yourself. As soon as you finish, will drag you away to a more secluded area and embrace you with more confidence as a way of showing his appreciation for never complaining about his shying away from socialising.
╰┈➤ Giulio Gandini who chooses to not wear his eyepatch when you're both alone, trusting you in his most vulnerable form. Who is able to use his robotic eye as a camera, recording your interactions to preserve the memory. Often pulls up these moments on the screen of his prosthetic arm when you're apart, watching through them when he misses you. Moves certain ones to a USB and prints out photos to give you (some in lockets, some just as a copy to frame) leaving you confused on how he managed to get them. (I love him so much :(( lowkey the main reason I liked the 4th movie sm)
╰┈➤ Touya Todoroki/ Dabi who will only let you help when it comes to dyeing his hair (aka forces you when the black is washing out to help fix it up). Will sit on a random chair he dragged in or the edge of the bathtub while you touch up his roots, probably moves constantly unless you hold his head in place. Gets you to join him in the shower to help wash through it, being a little shit about it and smudging the dye on you so it'll stain.
╰┈➤ Tomura Shigaraki who refuses to touch you with all 5 of his fingers, even after he's confident in his abilities to control his quirk. Will always have a finger lifted from your body while he holds you in his embrace, wearing artist gloves when sleeping beside you just to be safe. Holds your hand constantly when alone like the touch starved person he is but never has a proper grasp, loosely intertwining your fingers while he leaves his pinkie away from your hand.
╰┈➤ Shota Aizawa who similar to his son has a habit of handing you random stuff when he returns home, though his are more concerning. If you had a nickel for every time he came home to hand you a kitten he found in an alley, you would have two but it was very strange it happened twice. Came home after his long shift one night and handed you a cat like it was just another causal Wednesday. So anyways you guys have 2 cats now :))
╰┈➤ Keigo Takami who likes to use his feathers to tickle you at the least expected times, often resulting in a fresh bruise the next day. Will each and every time forget you like to swing when his feathers are tickling at your sides, with your first or leg accidently colliding with some part of his body. One time was his face, another his calf, or the time you accidently hit him where the sun don't shine. He learnt to move back after that one..
#mha x reader#mha x y/n#bnha x reader#my hero academia x reader#bakugou x reader#todoroki x reader#touya x reader#midoriya x reader#iida x reader#kirishima x reader#monoma x reader#shinsou x reader#rody soul x reader#mirio x reader#tamaki x reader#amajiki x reader#giulio gandini x reader#giulio x reader#dabi x reader#tomura x reader#shigaraki x reader#aizawa x reader#hawks x reader#keigo x reader#bakugo katuski x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#deku x reader#izuku midoria x reader#tenya iida x reader#kirishima eijiro x reader
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HO 🎄HO ☃️ HO 🎁 it's your Secret Santa in town🎅🤶🔔🎶 coming down your chimney with questions about your MC ⬇️⬇️⬇️
I'm so excited to learn more about Alyn! I just got started on one of your fics but I'm dying to know what the dynamics are between Alyn and Ominis?? What do they do when they spend time together? Who's the more affectionate one? Do they argue a lot? Who apologizes first? I would love to know if you don't mind sharing ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Hellooo! Thank you for reading 🥹💖 and for the questions, Santa! 💖✨ HERE COMES THE BIG POST! ~800 words👇🏻
To not make it extremely big I marked with * places where there are some extra headcanons behind the statement and I can elaborate additionally if needed.
Amberlyn x Ominis
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⋆˚⋆⌜ Dynamics ⌟⋆˚⋆
The only one who'd understand. Recognition of each other's complexities. Mutual respect. Quiet support. Nevertheless, push and pull of varying intensity. Something from their Pinterest board:
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Their bond unfolds slowly, built on trust (since Scriptorium, Alyn always sided with Ominis*) and, much later, subtle expressions of affection. They find common ground in shared struggles (family issues among them*) and the guilt and grief lingering after the events of the fifth year.
Alyn has a knack for finding the right words to soften Ominis' sharp edges and gently coax him into vulnerability. Though both are reserved in their own ways, they provide each other a sense of safety and understanding. (exceptions in Conflicts below)
Alyn is more open with affection—small, casual touches like brushing her hand against his (or her knee against his, because yes, she would; she’s, lost, traumatised and overcaffeinated teen). She completes his notes sometimes, drawing schemes from the board for him, describes things that catch her attention in and out of the class—all this happens naturally and easily.
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Ominis is more reserved but deeply enjoys her presence and is grateful for her small gestures of help and appreciation. At first, he starts to subconsciously lean just a little closer than necessary during conversations. Over months time, he becomes braver about returning her gestures—a hand brushing hers deliberately, his voice softens noticeably when he speaks to her.
⋆˚⋆⌜ Time together ⌟⋆˚⋆
✨Studying: Since around the end of the fifth year, they often sit together at classes, at the library, or meet in common areas of the castle. Ominis becomes attuned to Alyn's steps, her scent, her presence. He’s startled to realise one day the sound of her voice reading aloud calms him.
✨Spells and Dueling Practice: Ominis’ magic is powerful, and his wand never misses. Alyn learns new spells quickly, and is excellent in explaining. Their training sessions are focused yet competitive and somewhat playful, filled with mutual encouragement and a bit of teasing. Alyn would brush the dust from a shattered dummy off his shoulder, and Ominis, whether he admitted it or not, would think that if the entire castle crumbled into dust around him, he wouldn’t mind—as long as it meant she’d be this close again, brushing it away with her hand.
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✨Walks: Both enjoy long walks through the castle or by Black Lake. In the sixth year, they always visit Hogsmeade together. Sometimes they are just walking or sitting in silence. They don't normally talk in big emotional outbursts but instead share small, meaningful pieces of themselves over time.
⋆˚⋆⌜ Conflicts ⌟⋆˚⋆
They feel connection because they understand each other’s pain and offer emotional safety, but that very depth makes them vulnerable to fear, mistakes, and misunderstandings.
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⚡️Curiosity vs protectiveness: Alyn is still new to the magical world. It makes her eager to learn everything—seemingly dangerous or not—out of wonder, fascination, and a desire to understand and catch up. Ominis, however, sees such curiosity as naivety and feels an urge to protect her, especially from anything risky. Alyn grows frustrated when she feels he’s infantilising her.
✨ Resolution: Alyn may prove her curiosity is tempered by caution, reassuring Ominis that she won’t put herself recklessly in harm’s way. Ominis, in turn, may learn to trust her judgment while remaining a protective figure she can rely on.
⚡️Miscommunication: Both Ominis and Alyn struggle with communication. Ominis often needs time alone to process his thoughts, but Alyn interprets his silence as distance or blame and tries to pull him out of it. If she doesn't succeed, she can rapidly go to 'Oh, it's now me not talking to you.'
✨ Resolution: They need to compromise—Alyn has to learns to give Ominis the time he needs, trusting that he will come back to her. Ominis, in turn, has to learn to communicate when he needs space instead of leaving her guessing.
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⚡️SeBaStIaN isn’t even at school during their sixth year. But, whenever he’s brought up, Ominis subtly redirects or shuts the topic down, even though he's not as mad at him as he used to be and still considers him a friend. Among other feelings, Ominis is unsettled by the thought of Alyn reconnecting with Sebastian and leaving him behind. Again. His worry isn’t just jealousy (though it is that too). He fears Sebastian might pull her into something dark and dangerous. Again.
Ominis might: a) Withdraw—not to punish Alyn, but to protect himself emotionally. b) Overcompensate—offer her small gestures of affection, lingering touches, or closeness during homework sessions as a subconscious reassurance of their bond. c) Act stupid and say something he'll regret.
Alyn, in turn, gets irritated by his lack of trust, and such an attack on her judgment.
✨ Resolution: Alyn may reassure Ominis that she was never anything more than friends with Sebastian, and that she’s not under anyone’s influence. Ominis needs to learn to differentiate between jealousy and genuine worry and to communicate his fears in a healthier way.
⋆˚⋆⌜ Apologies ⌟⋆˚⋆
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Ominis apologises after angry outbursts, guilt-ridden over losing control—something he fears makes him like his family. His apologies are slow and a bit awkward but deeply sincere. Alyn, on the other hand, apologises gently when she feels she’s misunderstood his intentions or pushed too hard.
Some of these 👆🏻bring them to this 👇🏻
⋆ Christmas 1891 ⋆
...and the aftermath. The second half of the sixth year.
Extra overcompensating for his insecurities while being not entirely sober, Ominis actually kissed Alyn. It happened after an argument following the Christmas party, but as Christmas magic would have it, that time both sides felt heard and satisfied. Eventually, they found themselves sitting together on the windowsill, sharing a quiet conversation. Aaand the first kiss happened.
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Afterwards, Ominis apologised so many times they almost had another argument. Alyn reassured him that he didn’t need to apologise—that she didn’t mind them trying this new relationship. But of course, they have to make sure no one finds out.
And here the 'Shades' story begins
[ Thank you for reading all this! Now the little side note and rambling (sobbing on the floor) I don't think I actually succeeded at writing their friends to lovers trope in 'Darkness' I wasn't ever even going to post it and it shows. Well, anyway, I figured I'm rather more interested in writing adventure/action and seasoning it with romance than the other way around. That's what I'm trying to do better in 'Shades'. At the same time, now I have clearer understanding of how to deepen and write their relationship and again, it will all be covered in 'Shades' . You are very welcome to read 🤍]
#barely proofread pls if english is not englishing I'm so sorry#I literally don't have time for anything this month *screams*#should have done such post a while ago#thank you santa for questions#hear me out don't judge me by the 'darkness' story if you ever even saw it 🥲#they also kinda have a ship name#I'm just not sure if I prefer this short form or the full one so I used the full for title to be clear#another side note - mostly peaceful and calm because they were trying to survive after the last year#but now the adventures are back#MORE DRAMA#is coming#omilyn#amberlyn x ominis#hogwarts legacy mc#couple dynamics and some lore#hogwarts legacy#HL secret Santa
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#vent#time for my regularly scheduled crisis#please hold for a regular lia to return#hhh#the problem with being a student who's rent and groceries are almost their entire living cost entitlement#is that you don't have anything to spare like ever#and add being disabled on top of that is that you cost more than you receive#i just. want small things and to not feel guilty over wanting them.#it also means that. who knows if i'm making rent at the end of this year. i might just. have to go home early again. which. i don't want#just to drop food costs.#and the thing is is that because our groceries fluctuate costs so much i physically cannot calculate how much i am spending#and like. how do i do anything about that? i literally can't#and i just want small things. like being able to get dried cranberries to snack on without my brain screaming at me#for wasting money#i've just. been in a constant thought spiral about so many things for the last month and a half. and nothing has changed or shifted#and i feel like i can't *do* anything about it#i dunno. like. i just want to be able to live without feeling like i am a drain on finances and the people around me#because i cannot fucking do anything.#like. longterm work? who the fuck knows if i'm going to be able to get a proper job where i want to be#and like. yeah i have a foot in the door but not nearly as much as i'd like and not for the things i really want to be doing#and i've had five (5!!!!) *professionals* reach out and then back out as soon as they realise that i actually charge for my services#like. what the actual fuck. yeah i'm going to make you pay me for my fucking labour?????? and it's like. how the fuck do i go on from there#one of these people had a 150k manuscript they thought i was going to sensitivity read for free. like. what the fuck.#and i keep getting excited because i like doing that stuff i enjoy it#and like. in general maybe an extra twenty a week would make the difference for me. that's *it*. but food costs keep being raised#and our living costs aren't raised to match#and the same happens with rent#and i just. don't know what i can even do about it#sorry. this is. just weighing on me#like always tbh.
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Until I Found You
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Summary: Living in a small town had it's pluses and minuses. But when an older man and his daughter move in, things start to change, perhaps for the better.
Word Count: 24.3k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!teacher!reader
Notes: this is looong, and believe me, i was surprised when i realized that it ended up being 24,000 words.
this thing is a slow-burn, i was literally screaming at my screen saying 'just kiss already!' then realizing that, in fact, i'm the one who has to make them kiss or confess or do something.
reader has a last name, but other than that, she isn't described. this technically could be considered an AU of logan (2017) where logan survives, so this was written with old man logan in mind.
i would like to turn this into another oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests! (relating to this or anything else you want to see!)
warnings: none!
The small town you lived in meant a few things, everyone knew everyone, and everyone got in everyone’s business.
A few months ago, an older man and his young daughter moved into town. You weren’t sure exactly how old he was, of course you knew who he was, but even you had to admit, he was attractive. But that’s what everyone thought, you heard the mothers who would pick up their children from school, looking at Logan as he picked up Laura.
It was nice to see a man who picked up his kid, though you’ve never seen Laura’s mother, so perhaps that explains why.
Laura was a quiet and sweet girl, at least that’s what you thought. Apparently, she also had the spirit of a firecracker and got angry easily. And while she’s visited the principal’s office at least 9 times since she’s been here, you still can’t help but see her as a cute little girl who’s been through something traumatic, whatever it was.
You were standing outside with your class in the afternoon, waiting until all the students were picked up. Laura was in another teacher’s class at the end of the day, your coworker Emma Zhou. You and Emma stood next to each other, your classes mingling as they waited for their parents to pick them up.
Emma leaned close to you, “this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”
“Yeah, I think it’s everyone’s favorite part of the day. We get to go home after this.” You replied.
“It used to be that, but now…” Emma trailed off as you glanced over at her, “there aren’t a lot of people in this town who are good looking. But he’s a great new addition.”
You hummed noncommittally, so what if Logan was good-looking? It wasn't like you spent your time ogling him. He was just another parent in the sea of them, a bit rougher around the edges maybe, but nothing that special. Emma shot you a knowing look.
"Come on, you’ve seen him, right? That scruffy beard, those eyes," Emma said, nudging you with her elbow. "He’s like one of those rugged cowboys from the old Westerns."
"You sound like you're about to swoon," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light. You didn't want to admit you might have noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at Laura or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Well, can you blame me?" Emma shot back with a grin. "Small town like ours, and a guy like that shows up? It's bound to turn some heads."
You knew that much. All the women, even those who were married, always ogled him, but he either didn’t mind or didn’t care. His salt and pepper hair, the thick beard—he was practically a wet dream for women everywhere.
Emma nudged you again, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, you’re not even the least bit curious about him?"
"I mean, sure, he's... attractive, but I'm not about to join the fan club," you said, shrugging it off, though you could feel heat creeping up your neck. You kept your focus on the kids in front of you, especially Laura, who sat quietly on the steps, doodling in her notebook like she always did while waiting for her dad.
Emma smirked, clearly not buying your indifference. "Yeah, right. I see the way you look over there sometimes."
You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're seeing things."
Just then, you noticed Logan’s truck pull into the school parking lot. He stepped out, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the crowd of parents. Laura immediately perked up, her quiet demeanor shifting just a little, and she started gathering her things without a word.
"Speak of the devil," Emma murmured, but you ignored her, watching as Logan approached, his usual scowl in place, though it softened when his eyes landed on his daughter.
He gave a brief nod in your direction as he came closer. "Afternoon."
"Hey," you replied, casually. You weren’t about to give Emma the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.
Laura stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she walked over to him. She paused in front of you, though, glancing up with those big, serious eyes of hers.
"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice quiet but steady with a hint of her accent.
You smiled. "See you tomorrow, Laura."
She gave a small nod before taking Logan’s hand. He didn’t say much else, just a simple ‘thanks’ before turning to leave with Laura in tow. You watched them walk away for a moment longer than necessary, noticing the slight limp in his step that he tried to hide.
"Y/N," Emma sing-songed, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Admit it, you’ve got a little thing for him, don't you?"
You rolled your eyes. "You really need a new hobby."
Emma laughed, but before she could press any further, her attention shifted to another parent picking up their kid, and you were grateful for the distraction. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder about Logan and Laura, what their story was. Everyone in town seemed to have their theories—some more ridiculous than others—but you’d always figured it wasn’t your place to pry.
As the crowd of students and parents thinned out, you found yourself thinking about Logan again. His gruff exterior didn’t bother you—it reminded you of those old Clint Eastwood characters, tough but with something vulnerable underneath. Maybe it was the way he looked at Laura, so protective but with a softness that made you wonder what kind of man he really was when he let his guard down.
Emma’s voice pulled you back to the present. "So, what’s your plan for the evening?"
You shrugged. "Probably just grading papers. Maybe catching up on some Netflix. You?"
"Trying to figure out how to run into Logan at the grocery store," she joked, though you wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t kidding.
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good luck with that."
As you both said your goodbyes and headed to your cars, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time. He was already driving off, Laura in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window.
You let out a small sigh and got in your car, starting the engine. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but there was something there. Maybe Emma wasn’t entirely wrong.
Not that you’d ever admit that to her.
---
Much to your dismay, you had to go to the store once you were already clad in your loungewear. You wanted to make pasta, only to remember you forgot to get milk after work.
So now, here you were at the small local grocery store grabbing milk and a pint of ice cream for your troubles. The store was quiet at this hour, a few other people milling about but otherwise uneventful. You grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the dairy section, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. Loungewear was great for a lazy evening at home, but not exactly your first choice for public appearances.
Once you made it to the frozen section, you looked at the pints of ice cream, specifically looking for one of your favorites, Ben and Jerry’s s’mores. “Fuck.” You muttered, seeing a pint of cookie dough in the spot of the s’mores.
You angrily grabbed the cookie dough ice cream to look behind it, only to find a chunky monkey pint. With a huff, you looked at the pint of ice cream, mentally cursing your luck. Just as you were about to put it back onto the shelf, a deep voice spoke from beside you.
"Didn't figure you for a chunky monkey type."
Startled, you looked up and found Logan standing there, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was holding a six-pack of beer and a carton of eggs in one hand, the other casually resting in the pocket of his jeans.
You blinked, thrown off by the sudden appearance. "What? Oh, no, I was just... I was looking for s'mores," you explained awkwardly, holding up the ice cream like it was evidence.
He nodded, his smirk deepening a little as he glanced at the shelves. "Guess they’re out, huh?"
"Yeah, my luck tonight," you muttered, a little embarrassed to be caught standing here obsessing over ice cream in your loungewear. Not exactly how you wanted to run into the guy you were definitely not crushing on. How could you? He was the Wolverine, around 200 years old, and looked to be the age of your father. Well, if your father was still alive. Or if you ever got to know him.
Logan glanced at the shelf again and shrugged. "S'mores is overrated anyway."
You quirked an eyebrow at him, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment. "Oh really? What’s your go-to then, Mr. Anti-S'mores?"
He smirked, that same low, gravelly voice coming through as he responded. "Not much of an ice cream guy, but if I had to choose… probably plain vanilla. Simple. Not too sweet."
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you. "Of course you'd go for the most basic flavor."
His eyebrow twitched slightly at that, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes. "Sometimes simple’s the best option."
You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pint of vanilla. "Well, I guess I'll take your advice tonight, then. Not like I have much of a choice."
He gave you a brief nod, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there, but then Logan shifted slightly, his weight on one leg, clearly trying to mask the limp you'd noticed earlier. You weren’t sure if it was from the adamantium or something else, but it definitely wasn’t healing like it should. You found yourself biting your lip, wanting to ask but knowing better.
Instead, you went for something safer. "Laura’s doing well in class, by the way. She’s sharp. A little stubborn, but sharp."
He glanced down at you, a flicker of pride crossing his face. "Yeah, she’s a tough one." His expression softened as he added, "She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she likes you. Keeps her distance with most people."
Your heart fluttered a little at that. Laura was a bit of a mystery, rarely engaging much with the other teachers or students, so hearing that she’d let her guard down even a little with you meant more than you’d expected. "Well, she’s a good kid. I try not to push her too much."
Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you expected, like he was sizing you up in that quiet, brooding way of his. It made you feel both exposed and… oddly seen.
"Anyway," you said, breaking the silence, "I’ll let you get back to your shopping. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than stand around talking about ice cream."
He gave a small grunt that might’ve been a laugh, but it was so subtle you couldn’t be sure. "Yeah. See you around, Ms. Aberra."
"Y/N," you corrected, feeling a little awkward. "You can just call me Y/N."
He hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Y/N, then."
You gave him a small smile, feeling a strange warmth at the way your name sounded in his deep voice. He gave a nod before turning to leave, but as he walked away, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his retreating form. There was something about him—something rough, broken, but undeniably captivating.
---
The next morning, you pulled into the school parking lot, iced coffee in hand, still replaying your chance encounter with Logan at the grocery store. Why did it have to be the one night you went out in loungewear? If Emma ever found out, you'd never hear the end of it. You mentally braced yourself as you walked toward the building, determined to shake off any lingering thoughts about last night.
As you entered the teacher's lounge to drop off your things, Emma was already there, nursing her own cup of coffee. She spotted you immediately and raised an eyebrow.
"You look a little too chipper for a Wednesday," she teased.
You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just happy to be halfway through the week."
"Uh-huh," she said, not quite convinced. "You didn't run into anyone interesting last night, did you?"
Your heart skipped a beat. How does she know?
"Like who?" you asked, trying to play dumb, but Emma's smirk told you she wasn't buying it.
"Oh, I don’t know... maybe a certain rugged cowboy-looking guy with a truck?" she said, her grin widening.
You groaned. "Seriously, do you have a sixth sense or something?"
"I knew it!" Emma practically squealed. "You did run into Logan, didn’t you? Come on, spill!"
You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. "It was nothing. We just ran into each other in the frozen section, talked for, like, two seconds. That’s it."
"Uh-huh, and?" Emma leaned forward, eager for details.
"And nothing. We talked about ice cream. He said s'mores was overrated."
Emma let out a dramatic gasp. "Overrated? Now, I know he's not perfect."
You chuckled despite yourself. "Yeah, well, that's the most thrilling part of my story, so feel free to be disappointed."
Emma shook her head, still grinning. "Oh, I'm not disappointed at all. This is just the beginning."
"There's nothing to begin, Emma," you said, exasperated. "He's just another parent."
"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," she said with a wink before heading out to her classroom. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again as you followed her out into the hallway.
---
The morning passed uneventfully, but Laura had been quieter than usual in your class. Not that she was typically the most talkative kid, but today she seemed more distant, even from you. She’d finished her assignments early, as usual, but spent most of the class staring out the window instead of doodling in her notebook.
During lunch, you decided to check in with her. You found her sitting by herself outside, picking at the sandwich Logan had packed for her. You approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her.
"Hey, Laura," you greeted, taking a seat on the bench next to her. "Everything okay?"
She glanced at you, her expression as unreadable as always, before giving a slight shrug. "Yeah."
You studied her for a moment, noticing the way she kept her gaze low, avoiding eye contact more than usual. Something was definitely off. You knew better than to push too hard, but you also didn't want her to bottle everything up.
"Well, you know if you ever want to talk, I’m here," you said gently.
She gave another shrug, but this time, her eyes flickered up to meet yours briefly. "I know."
You nodded, letting the silence settle between you. Laura wasn’t one for big emotional outbursts—at least not around you—but you had a feeling she'd talk when she was ready.
"By the way," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood, "your dad said he don’t like s'mores ice cream. Is that true, or is he just weird?"
Laura looked up at you, her lips twitching slightly like she was trying not to smile. "I like s'mores."
"Thought so," you replied with a smirk. "Well, I’m officially questioning all of your dad's taste now."
Laura didn’t laugh, but her expression softened a little, and she took another bite of her sandwich. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress. You let her finish eating in peace, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you’d at least gotten her to relax.
---
The afternoon flew by, and soon enough, the end-of-day pickup routine was in full swing. You and Emma stood outside again, watching the usual parade of parents and cars. Logan’s truck was easy to spot as it pulled up to the curb. You tried to act like you weren’t paying attention, but of course, Emma caught you glancing over.
"Still nothing, huh?" she teased under her breath.
"Shut up," you muttered, doing your best to seem disinterested.
Logan stepped out of the truck, his usual stoic expression in place as he made his way toward the school. Laura was already waiting, standing near the steps with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw him and walked over without hesitation, but before they left, she turned back to you.
"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice a little softer than usual.
"See you tomorrow, Laura," you replied with a smile.
Logan gave you a nod as they walked past, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight limp in his step again. It was subtle, but there. Your curiosity piqued, but you pushed it down, reminding yourself it wasn’t your place to pry.
Emma, however, was still watching you closely. "You’re so not fooling anyone."
You shot her a look. "Seriously, get a hobby."
Emma just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, this is my hobby, Y/N. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it."
As you both stood there, watching the last of the kids get picked up, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time as it drove away. Emma’s teasing was getting on your nerves, but there was a part of you that couldn’t completely dismiss what she was saying.
Maybe you were a little curious. Just a little. But you weren’t about to admit that to anyone—not even yourself.
---
Over the weekend you decided it was time to get an oil change. You weren’t going to go to ‘Mavin’s Oil Change’, not after that happened. Which is why for the past few years you’ve been doing it yourself.
It wasn’t difficult, and it was a lot cheaper, both wins in your book.
You walked around the hardware store, glancing at the shelves as you carried a new oil drain pan. You paused in front of the rows of motor oil, scanning the labels. Conventional had always worked fine for you, but maybe this time you'd splurge on the synthetic blend. It wasn't a huge decision, but it felt like a small act of treating yourself, in a way.
You were debating the pros and cons of the oil options when you heard the sound of someone walking up behind you.
"Didn’t peg you for the kind to do your own oil changes."
You turned your head and were met with Logan’s familiar gravelly voice. There he was again—of all places, he’d found you here in the auto section of the hardware store.
"Yeah, well, it's cheaper this way," you replied with a casual shrug, hoping to mask the slight surprise in your voice. You gestured to the oil in front of you. "What about you? Conventional or synthetic blend?"
Logan glanced at the shelf, then back at you. "Conventional. Gets the job done."
"Figures." You grinned a little, grabbing the conventional oil off the shelf. "Guess I’ll stick with what I know too, then."
He raised an eyebrow at you, but there was a hint of amusement behind his usual stoic demeanor. "Figured you’d be one to overthink it. Synthetic’s not all it’s cracked up to be."
You chuckled. "I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Oil Expert."
He grunted in response, grabbing something off the shelf for himself. For a moment, you both stood there, surrounded by tools and motor oil, neither of you saying much. It was kind of nice—quiet, comfortable in a way you wouldn’t have expected.
You shifted, holding the oil pan in your hands. "So, is Laura doing anything fun this weekend?"
Logan glanced at you, his face softening slightly at the mention of his daughter. "Not much. She likes to keep busy, but… this town ain’t exactly got a lot going on."
"True," you nodded, biting your lip as you tried to think of something. "She could come by and help me out with my garden, if she’s interested. I know she likes plants."
Logan looked at you, a little longer than usual, and you wondered if you’d crossed some kind of line offering something so personal. But then he nodded. "She’d probably like that."
"Cool," you said, feeling oddly relieved that you hadn’t messed up. "Let me know if she wants to. I could use an extra set of hands."
He gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on you again for a second before he turned his attention back to the shelf. There was that same weight to his gaze, like he was always sizing things up, figuring people out.
"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I’m starting to think you’re stalking me. First the grocery store, now here. Should I be worried?"
Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Pretty sure it’s the other way around."
You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I’m just a simple schoolteacher who likes ice cream and doing her own oil changes. Hardly the stalking type."
"Sure," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly into what could almost be considered a smile.
You felt your own lips tugging into a grin, and for a moment, it felt easier. Logan wasn’t always the easiest person to talk to, but something about these small, random moments with him made you feel more at ease than you expected.
"Well, good luck with your oil change," he said, turning to head down another aisle. "Maybe see you around."
"Yeah, see you around," you replied, watching him walk away before you continued shopping, a strange warmth lingering in your chest.
As you walked toward the checkout, you couldn’t help but think back on how natural it felt, just talking to him. There wasn’t any awkwardness or forced conversation—just two people running into each other at the hardware store. Nothing to overthink. Except, maybe, the fact that you were starting to like these encounters more than you’d like to admit.
---
Logan blew out a breath of his cigar smoke. Laura said she didn’t like it when he smoked inside so he started doing it outside on the porch.
A small added bonus was seeing you, a few houses down, across the street, currently underneath your car getting the oil to drain.
The door opened and shut behind him as Laura stepped out, “ella te gusta,” she said softly.
He let out a huff, “kid, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I don’t know Spanish.”
Laura let out her own huff, sitting down next to Logan’s chair with her sketchbook, flipping it open. She didn’t say anything for a while, just started sketching in that intense, quiet way she had. Logan leaned back, puffing on his cigar, watching the smoke curl up into the air.
He caught himself glancing back across the street, where you were still working under your car. Laura's earlier comment lingered in his mind, even if he pretended not to know what it meant.
After a few minutes of silence, Laura looked up from her drawing. “You should go help her.”
Logan snorted, taking another puff of his cigar. “She’s fine. Knows what she’s doin’.”
Laura raised an eyebrow at him, her expression skeptical. “You’re always saying people shouldn’t be doin’ stuff like that alone. What if something happens?”
“Yeah, but she’s not helpless,” he grunted, though there was something in his tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.
Laura shrugged and went back to her sketch. “Still think you should.”
Logan glanced at her, then back at you. You were sliding out from under the car, wiping your hands on your jeans, looking like you’d handled it just fine. He grunted again, though this time it was more to himself.
“What are you drawing?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
Laura held up her sketchbook, showing him a detailed drawing of a plant—a vine with thorns twisting around a branch. It reminded him of your garden, something about the way the plants seemed to grow wild but still had a certain beauty to them.
“That for Ms. Aberra?” Logan asked, the name slipping out before he could stop it. He tried to keep his tone casual, but Laura shot him a knowing look.
“Maybe.” She shrugged, but there was a smirk playing on her lips. “She likes plants. Thought she’d like this.”
Logan just nodded, staying quiet. He wasn’t about to get into a conversation with an eleven-year-old about why he’d noticed things about your garden or how you seemed to have a way with plants. That wasn’t his style.
“Why don’t you go show her?” Logan suggested, nodding toward you as you gathered up your tools.
Laura seemed to think about it for a second, then shook her head. “Maybe later. She’s busy.”
Logan raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t push it. He knew better than to try and make Laura do something if she wasn’t in the mood. The kid had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Though he supposes it was his fault.
A teenage girl who was walking a dog, a tan pit bull, stopped in front of your driveway, the dog happily wagging its tail as it patiently waited for you to say hello.
You were still wiping the oil off your hands when you noticed the pair. "Hey, there.” You smiled as you crouched down to greet Juno, who leaned eagerly into your hand, her tail wagging excitedly. "How are you, Juno?" you cooed, giving the pit bull a good scratch behind the ears.
The teenage girl holding the leash smiled politely. “She’s been dying to see you again,” she said, giving the leash a little slack so the dog could get closer.
"Well, I’m always happy to see her." You grinned as the dog nudged your leg, clearly wanting more attention. "Been a busy evening?”
The girl shrugged. “Yeah, but Juno here makes it better. You know how it is.”
You nodded. "Definitely. Plants are my version of Juno. Or baking, it’s hard to decide.”
The girl chuckled lightly before glancing at the car behind you. “Doing your own oil change?”
"Yep," you said, standing up and wiping your hands again on the rag. "Easier and cheaper than going to a shop."
She raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I wouldn’t even know where to start."
“You’d be surprised how easy it is. YouTube tutorials, mostly,” you said, shrugging as you wiped your hands on the rag.
The girl smiled. "I might have to try that next time. If I don’t mess up my car in the process.”
You laughed. "That’s what the tutorials are for. But yeah, it’s not too bad. You’d get the hang of it."
As you chatted with the girl for a bit longer, Juno continued to happily soak up the attention. You scratched behind her ears one more time before standing up straight. “Well, good luck with the rest of your walk. Always nice seeing you two.”
“Same here,” the girl replied, tugging gently on Juno’s leash. “C’mon, girl. Let’s get home.”
You waved as they continued down the street, Juno looking back at you with her tail wagging. With a satisfied sigh, you turned back to finish cleaning up, putting away the oil pan and bottles of motor oil.
Across the street, Logan puffed his cigar, watching as you gathered your tools and wiped your hands one more time. Laura had gone back to her sketching, though every now and then she’d glance up at him with that same look.
“She’s done now,” Laura said after a moment, still sketching.
“I can see that,” Logan grumbled, tapping ash off the end of his cigar.
“Still think you should go help,” she added, not even bothering to look up this time.
Logan huffed, staring at you as you double-checked your work and began packing up. He didn’t need to help—you were obviously handling everything just fine. But still, there was something about the way you worked so methodically, so determined. You’d done it all yourself, like you didn’t need anyone’s help. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling, though, that maybe he wanted to offer it anyway.
“Kid, you sure know how to push buttons,” he muttered under his breath.
Laura just smirked, flipping another page in her sketchbook.
Logan grumbled to himself for a moment longer before standing up from his chair, tapping out the last of his cigar in the ashtray. “Stay here.”
He walked across the street toward your driveway, hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes set on you as you knelt by the toolbox, sorting through the remaining tools.
“You done already?” he called out, making his presence known.
You glanced up, not expecting to see him again so soon. “Yeah, just finished up,” you replied, standing up and wiping your hands on the rag again. “What about you? Something break down?”
“Nah, just figured I’d see if you needed any help,” he said, his tone casual, though you could tell it wasn’t exactly his style to offer assistance without a reason.
You raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. “You offering to help after the job’s already done?”
"Guess I am," Logan replied with a hint of a smirk, his eyes not quite meeting yours.
You couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I suppose. Next time, I’ll be sure to save the hardest part for you."
"Yeah, you do that," he said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. He shifted his weight slightly, glancing over at the now-finished oil change. "You do this kind of thing often? Or just the oil changes?"
"Mostly just the oil changes," you admitted, as you leaned in closer like you were telling a secret. “I went on a few dates with Mavin’s son the first few months I was here and didn’t go over well. Now he overcharges me.” You held up your hands, “but if it’s something complicated, I promise I drive 30 minutes to the city to get it checked out.”
Logan's eyes flickered with interest, the corners of his mouth twitching into something resembling a smile. "That right? Well, can't say I'm surprised. Mavin's a bit of a jerk."
You chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, he wasn't thrilled about me ghosting his son, that's for sure. But hey, I learned how to change my own oil, so I guess something good came out of it."
Logan grunted in agreement, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't say much after that, his eyes lingering on you as if he were trying to piece together something that didn't quite fit. You had a feeling he wasn't used to people like you—people who seemed to find their way into his life, one way or another.
"Well," you said, breaking the silence, "thanks for the offer, even if the job’s already done." You smiled, a little uncertain about what to do next. "Guess I'll see you around."
He nodded, but didn't make a move to leave. "Laura likes you, you know."
That caught you off guard. "Oh," you replied, a bit flustered. "Well, I like her too. She's a good kid. Smart, but... you already know that."
"Yeah," Logan muttered, his voice softer than usual. "She doesn’t open up to many people. But you... you’re different."
You weren't sure how to respond to that, so you just nodded, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through your chest. "I’m glad she feels comfortable around me. She’s been through a lot."
Logan's eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. "More than most," he agreed, his voice rough with something that sounded a lot like guilt.
You wanted to reach out, to say something that might make him feel better, but words failed you. So instead, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, not awkward but charged with something unspoken.
"Anyway," Logan said, clearing his throat as if to shake off the heavy moment. "If you ever need help with the car, you know where to find me. Or Laura."
You smiled, feeling that warmth again. "I’ll keep that in mind. And if you two ever need help with, I don’t know, math homework or... anything else, you know where to find me."
He nodded, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Noted."
You watched as he turned to leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. As he walked back toward his house, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something more than just friendly encounters at the store.
---
During lunch, you sat in your classroom, enjoying 30 minutes of peace and quiet before the kids came back into the room. The soft hum of the heater filled the space, making the room feel warmer than usual as you flipped through the stack of quizzes you needed to grade. The formulas and diagrams were a blur as your mind drifted back to the weekend, specifically to Logan.
The way he’d offered to help with your oil change, the quiet moments that had followed—it was so unlike him. Or maybe, you realized, you just didn’t know him well enough yet. Either way, something about it had left you feeling... something.
A soft knock on the doorframe pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, that cheeky grin on her face.
“So,” she started, stepping inside your classroom. “I hear you’re making friends with a certain someone across the street.”
You rolled your eyes, setting down the quiz you’d been half-grading. “I’m not ‘making friends.’ We just happen to run into each other.”
Emma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Mhm. Sure. Totally normal for him to come help with your oil change, right?”
"My God, how do you know?" you asked, eyes widening in disbelief as you sat back in your chair.
Emma smirked, leaning against the doorway like she had all the time in the world. "Small town. You know how people talk." She paused, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Besides, you’re not exactly subtle. Logan? The gruff guy across the street? It’s hard to miss that you two have been... running into each other more than usual."
You sighed, rubbing your temple. "It’s not like that. He just offered to help with my car, and Laura—"
Emma’s grin widened. "Ah, Laura. That’s the key, isn’t it? I’ve seen how she looks at you. That kid doesn’t warm up to just anyone. She’s a little... prickly, but with you? She’s different."
"She’s a good kid," you said, trying to deflect. "She’s been through a lot, you know? I just think she needs someone to talk to. Someone who’s not... intimidating."
"Sure, sure," Emma teased, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of one of the desks. "But you can’t tell me there isn’t something more going on between you and Logan. I mean, come on. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the ‘friendly neighbor’ type. More like ‘leave me alone or I’ll stab you with my claws’ type."
You chuckled despite yourself. "Okay, yeah, he’s not exactly Mr. Rogers. But it’s not like we’re... you know, it’s just—"
"Flirting?" Emma offered with a raised eyebrow.
"Friendly," you corrected quickly, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "It’s just friendly. He’s Laura’s dad, and we’ve talked a few times, but that’s it."
Emma gave you a knowing look. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I’m the Queen of England."
You groaned, pushing your quizzes aside. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"
"Because," Emma said with a shrug, "it’s about time you had a little fun in this town. You spend all your time either at school or working on that garden of yours. You deserve to have a life outside of grading papers and pulling weeds."
"I have a life," you protested.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? And when was the last time you went on a date?"
You opened your mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, realizing you didn’t have a good answer. "Okay, fine," you admitted, "it’s been a while. But that doesn’t mean—"
"Exactly my point," Emma interrupted, flashing a triumphant grin. "Look, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. But Logan? He’s clearly interested. And I think you are too."
"Okay… even if I was interested, I’m pretty sure a guy like that doesn’t have dating or relationships on his mind. Especially with someone like me." You leaned back in your chair, feeling a mix of frustration and doubt.
Emma gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. "Someone like you? Come on, Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re smart, funny, and clearly, Logan thinks you’re worth his time. He’s not just helping anyone with an oil change, believe me."
You sighed, crossing your arms. "It’s not that simple. You know what he’s been through. And Laura... she’s been through so much already. I’m not about to mess with their lives."
Emma smirked, tapping her fingers on the desk. "Mess with their lives? Or make their lives better? Laura clearly likes you, Y/N. She’s practically glued to your side when you’re around. And Logan? He’s different with you. I see it."
You frowned, picking up a pen and twirling it between your fingers. "Laura’s nice to me, yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s indifferent to most of the other teachers, and she barely talks in class. I don’t even know if she likes me, or if it’s just... I don’t know."
"She doesn’t warm up to just anyone," Emma pointed out. "You’re different. She looks at you like she trusts you, and Logan trusts you too, whether he shows it or not. That’s not something that happens often with them. They’re... well, guarded, for obvious reasons."
You were quiet for a moment, thinking about Laura. It was true—she was quiet, distant with others, but with you? There was something different. She’d even started staying after class sometimes, just sitting there while you graded papers or prepped for the next lesson. And Logan? He was always nearby, watching, but never intruding.
Still, the idea of anything happening between you and Logan felt... complicated. "Even if he did trust me, it’s not like he’s the type to be thinking about relationships. The man’s got enough on his plate. And me? I’ve got work, and... I’m not exactly relationship material."
Emma laughed, shaking her head. "Please, Y/N. If anyone deserves a chance at something real, it’s you. You’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else—your students, your job. Maybe it’s time to let someone take care of you for a change."
You looked at her, skeptical. "You think Logan is the type to 'take care of' someone?"
She smirked. "He already is. He’s just doing it in his own way. And trust me, the way he looks at you? There’s more there than you realize. You just have to stop overthinking it."
Before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Emma stood up, giving you one last knowing smile before heading for the door. "Just think about it, Y/N. Sometimes, the best things happen when you least expect them."
You watched her go, your mind still swirling with doubt and a tiny sliver of hope. Could there really be something more between you and Logan? Or was it just your imagination?
As your students started filing back into the room, you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the rest of the day. But even as you taught your lessons and graded papers, Logan lingered in the back of your mind.
---
Later that evening, you found yourself in the garden, pulling weeds and trying to clear your head. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the small town. You liked this time of day—the quiet, the calm.
Just as you were settling into the rhythm of pulling weeds, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you saw Logan standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"Need any help?" he asked, his gruff voice breaking the silence.
You blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, with the garden? I’m just pulling weeds."
He shrugged, stepping closer. "Doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands."
You smiled, feeling a bit awkward but oddly touched by the offer. "Sure, if you’re up for it."
Logan crouched down next to you, pulling at the weeds without saying much. The two of you worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the rustling of plants and the distant hum of traffic.
Eventually, you spoke up, trying to break the tension. "So... Laura’s been doing well in class. She’s quiet, but I think she’s starting to come out of her shell a bit."
Logan glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah? That’s good to hear. She doesn’t talk much at home either."
"She’s a smart kid," you added, pulling another weed. "But I think... she could use someone to talk to. Someone she feels safe with."
Logan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "She’s been through a lot. Trust doesn’t come easy for her."
You hesitated, then asked, "What about you? Do you feel safe here?"
He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. "Safer than I’ve felt in a long time."
That simple admission hit you harder than you expected. Logan, this gruff, guarded man, was letting his walls down, even just a little. It made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
"That’s good," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. "I’m glad."
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt heavy but not uncomfortable. Logan’s presence was grounding, solid in a way that made you feel... safe too.
Finally, he broke the silence. "I appreciate what you’ve done for Laura. She doesn’t trust many people, but with you... it’s different."
You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "I’m just doing my job. She’s a good kid, like I said."
Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "It’s more than that. She trusts you. And... so do I."
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. There was something unspoken in the air between you, something neither of you was ready to address. But it was there, simmering just below the surface.
"Logan, I—"
Before you could finish, he stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it."
You stood up too, feeling the weight of what was left unsaid hanging in the air. "Thanks for the help."
He gave a brief nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to leave. "Anytime."
As you watched him walk away, your heart was pounding in your chest. There was no denying it now—there was something between you and Logan. Something real. And it scared you just as much as it excited you.
---
Parent-teacher conferences always stressed you out. Gathering all your students’ information, organizing it all, it was hectic and unreasonable. You couldn’t understand why an email didn’t suffice.
Possibly the worst thing about it is the fact it took place in the school gym, which had no AC. The heat was almost unbearable, making your clothes stick to your skin as you shuffled through your notes, waiting for the next parent to arrive to your table.
The gym was packed, parents and their kids moving between tables as they talked to teachers, making the already stifling room feel even hotter. You fanned yourself with the stack of notes you’d organized earlier, feeling sweat prickle at your back.
You glanced at your list of appointments, sighing when you saw who was next: Logan. You hadn't expected him to come. Laura was doing well enough in your class, but she wasn’t exactly the type to care about grades. You figured Logan would be the same—practical, but not overly concerned about school meetings.
You straightened up, glancing around to see him approaching with Laura by his side. She looked slightly uncomfortable, her arms crossed and her gaze focused anywhere but the gym, while Logan was, well... Logan. His expression was gruff, unreadable as usual, but there was something in his eyes that softened when he saw you.
“Ms. Aberra,” Logan greeted as he reached your table, giving you a nod.
“Logan,” you said, smiling at Laura. “And Laura. How are you two doing?”
Laura shrugged, barely meeting your gaze. Logan pulled out the chair for her, and she reluctantly sat down, still quiet. He stayed standing, leaning on the back of the chair, watching you with that familiar intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Laura’s doing fine in class. Really, there’s not much to talk about.”
Logan glanced at Laura, then back at you. “Figured I’d come by anyway. See how things are goin’.”
You nodded, pulling up Laura’s grades on your tablet. “Well, like I said, she’s doing great. She’s one of the best in the class, actually. Quiet, but I can tell she’s always thinking.”
Laura’s face remained impassive, but there was the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.
“She’s got potential,” you continued, looking at Logan. “Especially in science. I think she’d be great at anything she wanted to do, honestly.”
Logan grunted in response, but there was a proud glint in his eye. “That’s good to hear.”
Laura finally spoke up, her voice quiet but clear. “I like science. And math.”
You smiled, surprised by her willingness to engage. “Well, you’re really good at it. I was thinking, if you ever wanted, there are some extracurriculars coming up. Science club, math competitions—stuff like that. It might be fun.”
Laura glanced at Logan, who simply shrugged. “Up to you, kid.”
She seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded slightly. “Maybe.”
“Well, no pressure,” you said, trying to keep it casual. “You can always decide later.”
There was an awkward pause as you flipped through the rest of Laura’s grades, though there wasn’t much else to say. She was excelling, especially considering her background. You couldn’t help but feel a little protective over her, knowing what she’d been through.
“So, uh, anything else you need to know?” you asked, looking back up at Logan.
He shook his head. “Just wanted to check in, make sure she’s on track.”
You smiled, feeling the warmth in his words even if he didn’t show it. “She’s doing great. Really.”
Logan gave you a brief nod, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary before he straightened up. “Thanks.”
You watched as he turned to Laura, ready to leave, but she didn’t stand just yet. Instead, she glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowed slightly like she was piecing something together.
“Are you... friends?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the noise of the gym.
You blinked, taken aback by the question. Logan seemed just as surprised, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly recovered.
“Well,” you said slowly, glancing at Logan for a cue. “I guess you could say that.”
Logan cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t quite believe it but wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.”
She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor as she started toward the exit. Logan hesitated for a moment, giving you one last look before following her. “See you around,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.
You watched them go, feeling that strange mix of emotions again—the warmth, the uncertainty, the possibility of something more. As the door closed behind them, you realized that, for once, you didn’t mind the heat. It was a small town, and people noticed everything. But you were starting to wonder if maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Laura grabbed his hand as they exited the gym, having already seen her other teachers. She looked up at Logan, as he stared straight ahead at the truck in the parking lot. “Creo que ella te gusta.”
He let out a huff, “kid, don’t know how many times I gotta say it, but I don’t know Spanish.”
Laura gave him a sidelong glance, clearly unimpressed by his response. "You should learn," she muttered under her breath, squeezing his hand as they reached the truck.
Logan grunted as he fumbled for the keys, a slight wince crossing his features as he slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at Laura, who was already buckling herself in without a word. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t quite easy either.
He turned the key in the ignition, the truck sputtering to life as he pulled out of the parking lot. His mind wandered back to the parent-teacher conference, and specifically to Y/N. She’d always been good with Laura, he could see that. But lately, something about her seemed to calm him too—a feeling he wasn’t used to and didn’t quite know how to handle.
“You like her,” Laura said, breaking the silence with her blunt observation. It wasn’t a question.
Logan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “She’s a good teacher. You like her, too.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, crossing her arms. “You act different when she’s around. You don’t growl as much.”
Logan let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any real humor. “I don’t growl.”
“Yes, you do,” Laura said, looking out the window. “But not at her.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the road, trying to push away the thoughts circling in his mind. He wasn’t a man used to... feelings, especially not ones that left him unsure. But Y/N had a way of sneaking under his defenses, and that scared him more than he’d like to admit.
“I like her,” Laura said quietly after a long stretch of silence.
Logan glanced at her, surprised by the soft admission. Laura didn’t trust people easily, and she certainly didn’t like many. But her words carried weight, especially to him.
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.
Laura nodded, still looking out the window. “She’s not like the others. She doesn’t treat me like I’m different.”
Logan felt a knot in his chest loosen, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the relief of knowing Laura had found someone she trusted, or maybe it was the way Y/N had already become a part of their lives, without him even realizing it. Either way, he didn’t say anything more, just drove the rest of the way home in silence, lost in his own thoughts.
---
The next morning, you thanked the stars that it was Saturday. You were exhausted from the large amount of human interaction last night and decided to sleep in a bit before tending to the garden.
After that, and taking a shower, you slipped into comfortable clothes, some small shorts and a large t-shirt that covered the shorts, since it only getting warmer outside.
Even with that said, you couldn’t help but crave chocolate chip cookies, thanking the stars once again that you had all the ingredients.
You turned on the oven, allowing it to pre-heat, as you grabbed a mixing bowl and walked around your small kitchen looking for the ingredients listed on your worn-out piece of paper. You still hadn’t memorized the recipe after making it for years.
The doorbell ringed as you poked your head out the side of your kitchen. When you answered it, you were pleasantly surprised to find Laura outside, wearing what you could only describe as a cute grey shirt with a colorful bear on it. You’d never say it to her, she’d probably leave if you said she looked cute.
“Hey, Laura. D’you need anything?”
“Daddy said I could help with the garden.” She spoke softly.
“Oof, sorry kiddo. Already did it this morning.” You looked back inside your house before turning back to Laura, “though, I could use some help making cookies.”
Laura hesitated for a second, her dark eyes studying you as if trying to decide whether this was worth her time. You were still getting used to her quiet, guarded nature, but you’d learned quickly that she was different around you compared to other people. It was like you had some sort of unspoken understanding, even if you didn’t fully get why.
“Okay,” she finally said, stepping past you into the house.
You closed the door behind her, walking back into the kitchen and grabbing a second mixing bowl. “You ever make cookies before?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her.
Laura shook her head, standing by the counter as she watched you.
“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’m about to show you the magic of sugar, butter, and chocolate chips.” You grinned as you started measuring out the ingredients. “Can you hand me the brown sugar?”
She scanned the countertop before reaching for the brown sugar, silently passing it to you. You got the feeling she wasn’t used to this kind of thing—normal, mundane stuff like baking cookies on a lazy Saturday. Not that you knew her whole story or anything, but you’d heard enough about Logan and his complicated life to guess Laura hadn’t had a typical upbringing.
As you started mixing the butter and sugar together, you tried to think of something to say. Conversations with Laura could be tricky; she wasn’t the chatty type, and you didn’t want to push her too much.
“So,” you started, keeping your tone casual, “what’s Logan up to today?”
She shrugged. “Resting.”
You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Logan resting was a good thing. You knew he’d been having a rough time lately with his health, even though he wasn’t the type to admit it. You figured he was just being stubborn, refusing to slow down even though it was clear his healing wasn’t what it used to be.
Laura remained silent, watching as you added the flour to the mix.
“You wanna stir?” you asked, offering her the spatula.
She looked at it for a moment before stepping closer and taking it from you. Her movements were careful, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but smile as she focused on the task.
“Nice job,” you said, giving her a thumbs-up. “You’ve got a future in cookie-making, I can tell.”
Laura didn’t react much, but you swore you saw the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.
As she stirred, you reached for the chocolate chips. “Best part of making cookies—sneaking a few of these before they go in the dough.” You tossed a couple into your mouth, then held the bag out to her.
She paused, looking at the chocolate chips like she wasn’t sure what to do. After a second, she picked one up and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.
You chuckled. “See? Told you it’s the best part.”
Laura kept stirring the dough while you got the baking sheets ready. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just… quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Laura wasn’t the type of kid who needed constant conversation, and you appreciated that about her.
As she worked, you glanced at her again, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. You didn’t know what exactly she’d been through, but whatever it was, you could tell it had shaped her into someone far older than her years.
When the dough was ready, you started scooping it onto the trays. “Almost done,” you said. “Then it’s just a waiting game while they bake.”
Laura nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she watched you.
You slid the trays into the oven and set the timer before turning back to her. “You want some water or anything while we wait?”
She shook her head, her eyes still on the oven like she was trying to figure out why people made such a big deal out of cookies.
“Well, I’m grabbing a drink.” You poured yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you sipped. “It’ll take around 12 minutes for them to finish. Then we put in another batch, and another until the dough has all been used.”
Laura gave a small nod, her eyes still focused on the oven. It was like she was trying to figure out if all this waiting was actually worth it.
You studied her for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. She never really said much, but it was clear there was a lot happening behind those dark, watchful eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why she’d taken to you, but you were grateful for it. Laura didn’t let many people in, that much was obvious.
“I can show you a movie. Or maybe some music? I usually play somethin’ while I wait.”
Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Music,” she said quietly.
You smiled, glad she was at least open to that. “Cool. Let’s see what we got.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your playlist, landing on something mellow, nothing too upbeat or distracting. You hit play, letting the soft sounds of a guitar fill the room.
Laura leaned against the counter, listening, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t fidgety or impatient, just quiet, like she was absorbing everything around her.
You took another sip of water, watching her from the corner of your eye. “You ever help Logan with stuff like this? Like cooking?”
She shook her head. “No.”
You figured as much. “Well, if he ever asks, you’ll be a pro now.” You winked at her, earning the tiniest of shrugs in return.
You both stood there in a comfortable silence, letting the music play. It wasn’t awkward, just… peaceful. The smell of the cookies starting to bake filled the kitchen, and for a moment, it was easy to forget all the heavy stuff hanging in the air—Logan’s health, Laura’s past, whatever weight she carried that you didn’t fully understand yet.
After a few minutes, Laura spoke up. “I talked to Logan about you… last night.”
You paused, surprised she’d bring it up. “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”
She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the oven. “He said you’re... different from other people. In a good way.”
A warmth crept into your chest at that. “Well, that’s nice of him to say. I think he’s pretty different too, you know. In a good way.”
Laura looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He likes you,” she said, her tone flat, but there was something in the way she said it, like it was a fact she was still processing.
You felt your cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah? Well… I like him too.”
She stared at you for a moment longer before nodding slowly, like she was piecing something together in her head. “He doesn’t trust people. But he trusts you.”
You swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I’m glad he does. I mean… I care about him, Laura. And you too.”
Laura’s eyes flickered with something—maybe understanding, maybe something else you couldn’t quite name. She didn’t say anything for a while, just looked down at the floor.
Before the silence could stretch too long, the oven timer beeped, cutting through the moment.
“Cookies are done,” you said, turning to grab the oven mitts. You pulled the trays out, setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was even stronger now, warm and sweet, filling the entire kitchen. “Wanna taste test one?”
Laura hesitated for a second before nodding.
You carefully lifted a cookie from the tray, holding it out to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”
She took it, blowing on it before taking a small bite. You watched as she chewed, her face still neutral, but you could tell she liked it.
“Good, right?” you asked, biting into one yourself.
Laura nodded again, chewing slowly. For a split second, you thought you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.
As you both stood there, munching on cookies, the air felt lighter, like some kind of invisible barrier between you had shifted just a little. You didn’t know all of Laura’s story, but you didn’t need to. What mattered was that she was here, sharing this small moment with you, and that was enough.
“So,” you said after a few minutes, breaking the silence. “What should we do next? More cookies? Or maybe try out that movie?”
Laura looked at the remaining dough, then back at you. “More cookies.”
You grinned. “Good choice. Let’s make this batch even better.”
---
After all the cookies came out of the oven, you sent Laura home with a container of some of the batch. You could never eat them all on your own, and you ended up giving some away anyways, so why not give some to Laura?
You walked Laura to your front door and watched as she crossed the street, her figure disappearing behind the door three houses down. There was always something surreal about the way she moved—so quiet, so controlled, like she had learned to blend into the background. It made you wonder what her life had been like before coming here.
When Laura walked in, the container held tightly to her chest, Logan sat on the couch, the soft murmur of the TV barely audible as he sipped from a whiskey bottle. His eyes flicked over to her as the door clicked shut behind her.
“You were gone a while,” he muttered, his voice rough but not harsh.
Laura shrugged, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Made cookies.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, watching her disappear from view. The faint clinking of a container hitting the counter reached his ears. He knew she didn’t do stuff like this unless someone dragged her into it. “With Y/N?” he asked, taking another sip.
Laura reappeared, nodding as she plopped down beside him on the couch, the container of cookies now on the coffee table.
Logan stared at it for a moment, then gave a small grunt of approval. He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the container, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness that felt out of place in his usual world of bitterness and whiskey.
“Not bad,” he muttered, glancing at Laura. “You help with these?”
She shrugged again, still watching the TV, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her expression that didn’t go unnoticed by Logan.
“Hmm,” he grunted, leaning back. “Maybe next time, you can bring some whiskey to wash ‘em down.”
Laura didn’t smile, but her lips twitched slightly as if she was trying not to.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the low hum of the TV filling the room. Logan’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He didn’t trust people easily—never had, and probably never would. But Y/N was different. He’d seen how she handled Laura, how she didn’t push too hard or ask too many questions. And she was patient, something Logan knew he didn’t have much of.
“Y/N’s a good one,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
Laura didn’t say anything, but she shifted slightly, leaning her head against the arm of the couch.
Logan watched her for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. He knew settling down wasn’t really in his nature, but for Laura’s sake—and maybe a bit for his own—he was trying. And Y/N? She made that easier, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
“She ask about me?” Logan asked, more curious than he wanted to let on.
Laura nodded, her eyes still on the screen. “Yeah. I told her you were resting.”
Logan snorted. “Resting. That’s a nice way of putting it.”
Laura didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t push further. He knew what Y/N probably thought—that he was just some grumpy guy with a limp, maybe a few too many scars for comfort. She didn’t know the half of it. But she didn’t pry either, and for that, he was grateful.
“Guess I’ll have to thank her for the cookies,” Logan said after a while, taking another sip from the bottle. His mind wandered to the thought of Y/N—the way she smiled when she was around Laura, how she always seemed to have the right balance of patience and understanding. It wasn’t just anyone who could handle a kid like Laura, let alone make her feel comfortable enough to bake cookies on a Saturday.
“She likes you too, you know,” Laura said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.
Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Y/N,” Laura clarified, her tone as flat as ever. “She likes you.”
Logan chuckled, though there was a bit of discomfort behind it. “You don’t know that, kid.”
Laura looked at him, her gaze piercing and a little too wise for someone her age. “She does. I can tell.”
Logan stared back at her, caught off guard by how matter-of-fact she sounded. It was hard to argue with Laura when she had that look on her face, the same look that said she saw through everything and didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
He cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well… that’s her problem, not mine.”
Laura didn’t react, just turned back to the TV. But Logan could feel her eyes on him for a few seconds longer before she settled back into the cushions.
Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Laura’s words hanging in the air. He wasn’t used to people ‘liking’ him in the way Laura seemed to imply. People tolerated him, sure, maybe even respected him, but liking him? That was new territory.
He let out a sigh and reached for another cookie. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not right now.
But even as he chewed in silence, he couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N—and what it might mean if Laura was right.
---
A few days later, you found yourself at Logan’s house helping Laura with some of her English homework. You usually don’t make ‘house calls’ to help students, but you couldn’t deny Laura.
Logan stayed seated in the living room, drinking a beer and watching the TV. But really, he was pretending not to listen to their conversation in the kitchen.
“You’re doing good, Laura.” You said.
Laura shrugged, her eyes flicking over to Logan in the living room. “Can you stay for dinner?” She asked you.
Logan’s head snapped up at that. He hadn’t expected Laura to ask, but there was no denying that the kid had gotten attached to you. Before you could answer, Laura added, “I made something. With Logan.”
That was a lie, of course. Laura had barely touched the stove since the cookies, but she gave Logan a look that told him to back her up.
Y/N smiled softly. “I wouldn’t say no to dinner.” She glanced at Logan. “If that’s okay?”
Logan grunted, shifting his weight. “Yeah. ‘Course.”
Laura gave a small nod, clearly satisfied with the answer. You smiled, pushing the papers aside. “Guess I’m staying for dinner, then.”
Logan shot Laura a look, one that said what exactly are we eating? but she ignored him, turning her attention back to you. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said, which wasn’t reassuring.
“Well, I’m excited. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it,” you joked, standing up to stretch your arms.
Logan watched you from the corner of his eye as he sat back down on the couch, pretending to be more interested in the muted TV than he actually was. You couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed a little tenser whenever you were around, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He was trying to stay low-key, but you could tell he was keeping tabs on every move you made, every word you said.
“So, what’s on the menu?” you asked, trying to ease the quiet that had settled over the room.
Laura, sitting across from you, didn’t answer right away, like she was carefully considering her next move. Logan’s eyes flicked over to her, waiting for her response.
“Spaghetti,” she finally said, her voice as flat as ever.
You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh yeah? Sounds good.”
Logan gave a low grunt from the couch, and you could tell by his expression that he was trying to figure out when they’d supposedly made spaghetti. But he didn’t contradict Laura, just took another swig from his beer.
“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” you said, standing up from the kitchen table. “Let me know if you need any help.”
Laura didn’t say anything, just headed to the stove where a pot of water was already simmering. You followed her, glancing at the nearly-empty box of spaghetti on the counter. It was clear she hadn’t done this a lot, but the effort was what mattered. And if it meant spending more time with her—and Logan—you weren’t about to complain.
“I’ll get the sauce going,” you offered, stepping beside her. Laura gave you a slight nod, sliding over to make room.
Logan watched from the couch, his eyes narrowing as if he was weighing the situation. He hadn’t expected you to just roll with it, but then again, you always had a way of adapting.
“So, how’s school?” you asked Laura, trying to keep the conversation light while you opened the jar of sauce.
“It’s fine,” she said, her tone noncommittal.
You stirred the sauce, giving a little shrug. “Well, if you ever need help with any other type of homework, you know where to find me.”
She glanced up at you, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes softened for a second. “I know.”
The two of you worked in quiet sync, with Laura focusing on the pasta and you keeping an eye on the sauce. It wasn’t long before the kitchen started to smell of tomatoes and garlic, the scent filling the air and making the small space feel cozy. For a while, the only sounds were the bubbling pot and the clinking of utensils.
Logan shifted on the couch, clearing his throat. “Need me to do anything?”
You glanced back at him with a smile. “Just sit there and look pretty, Logan. We’ve got this.”
A low chuckle escaped him, though his face didn’t change much. “That so?”
Laura glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, but you caught the briefest hint of approval in her eyes before she turned back to stirring the pasta.
Once everything was ready, you and Laura brought the food to the small dining table. You plated up the spaghetti, topping it with sauce and a sprinkle of Parmesan. Logan joined you both, moving slower than he probably realized, and sat down with a grunt.
As you all ate, the room stayed comfortably quiet. It wasn’t one of those forced silences that felt awkward—it was more like everyone was just settling into the moment. Laura was still guarded, but you could tell she was starting to relax, even if it was just a little.
“You did good, Laura,” you said, twirling some spaghetti on your fork. “This tastes great.”
She didn’t say anything, just kept eating, but you saw her shoulders ease up ever so slightly.
Logan, on the other hand, glanced between the two of you, chewing slowly. He hadn’t been big on cooking or anything domestic like this, but he could tell Laura had put in effort. He took another bite, grunting his approval. “Not bad,” he said quietly.
You smiled to yourself. This whole thing wasn’t exactly what you’d planned for the evening, but it was nice in its own way—just simple, like normal people having dinner together.
As you were finishing up, Logan pushed his chair back, grabbing his beer bottle from the table. “I’ll handle the cleanup,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.
You raised an eyebrow, standing to gather a few plates. “You sure?”
Logan waved you off. “Yeah. Laura and I got it.”
You nodded, stepping back. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”
Laura watched you quietly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Logan. You could tell she wasn’t used to this kind of thing, the casual ease of sharing a meal and cleaning up afterward. But she was learning, and it seemed like she didn’t mind having you around for it.
“Well,” you said, grabbing your bag from the chair. “Thanks for dinner, you two. I’ll see you around?”
Logan grunted in acknowledgment, giving you a nod. Laura followed you to the door, her small figure standing by your side as you reached for the handle.
Before you could leave, she spoke up. “Will you come over again?” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
You smiled softly. “Of course. Anytime.”
She nodded, her face still unreadable, but there was a certain calmness to her now, a trust that hadn’t been there before.
You gave her a little wave before stepping out into the evening air. As you walked back to your house, you couldn’t help but think about how unexpected this had all been.
---
You muttered to yourself, hanging up the phone. Your sink had started to leak, and even though you were fairly handy, when you tightened the pipes, it did nothing.
So here you were, on your lunch break, looking for a handyman that didn’t want to charge you $200 for a quick fix.
Emma walked in, holding a folder with her lesson plans. “So…”
You rolled your eyes, “don’t start.”
“What! I’ve told you, word travels fast. Rose saw you leavin’ his house last night.”
“Rose?” You shook your head, “that woman is 85 and still gossips like she’s 20.” You put your phone down, “I was helping Laura with her English homework.”
"Helping Laura with her English homework?" Emma raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "You mean, at ten o'clock at night? Sure, Y/N."
You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “It wasn’t like that. She’s struggling with some of the writing prompts, and Logan’s... well, you know he’s not exactly the best person for that.”
“Uh-huh,” Emma nodded slowly, setting her folder down. “I’m just saying, you and him… there’s something there. You can deny it all you want, but people see things.”
“People need hobbies,” you muttered. “Besides, Logan’s... complicated. It’s not that simple.”
“I’m not saying it is,” she shrugged. “But you’ve been spending more and more time with him and Laura lately. I’m just curious.”
You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “Curious about what, exactly?”
“Just curious when you're going to admit you like him,” Emma smirked.
“I don’t—" you started to argue, but stopped yourself. “Emma, he’s… I mean, I care about him, but it’s not like that. He’s a single dad with a kid, and I’m just the neighbor who helps out sometimes.”
“Yeah, sure, Y/N.” Emma grabbed her folder and gave you a pointed look, “if you don’t make a move, someone on the ‘Wolverine Watchers’ will.”
You choked on the iced coffee you took a sip of, “the what?”
Emma grinned, “the ‘Wolverine Watchers’. A bunch of women in the town created a Facebook group about him. I joined out of curiosity.”
You blinked at Emma, still processing what she’d just said. “Hold on—there’s a Facebook group about Logan? Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” Emma said with a smug smile. “They call themselves the ‘Wolverine Watchers.’ There’s, like, at least 30 women in it. Maybe more.”
You shook your head in disbelief, sinking back into your chair. “That’s insane. Why would anyone even...”
“Oh, please,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it. He’s rugged, mysterious, barely speaks to anyone, and he’s got the whole grumpy-silver-fox thing going on. They eat it up. Hell, even I get it.”
You glared at her. “You’re not helping.”
She leaned against the desk, still grinning. “Just saying, don’t wait too long, or one of them might swoop in.”
You waved her off, though a part of you felt oddly defensive about the whole thing. “Logan’s not interested in any of that.”
Emma shrugged, pushing off the desk and heading for the door. “Maybe. Maybe not. But are you interested?”
You opened your mouth to respond before shaking your head. “Okay. I’m going to forget this part of our conversation and continue to try and look for a plumber or handyman.”
Emma laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Fine, fine. But if you need help with Logan or plumbing, you know where to find me.”
She left the room at the same time Laura walked in. She walked over to the front of your desk and stared at you with those eyes of hers. “You need help?” Laura finally asked.
You shook your head, “no. Just need a plumber. The sink in my kitchen is leakin’.”
Laura tilted her head slightly, considering something. “Why don’t you ask daddy?”
You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Because your dad’s busy, and it’s not his problem to deal with. I’ll figure it out.”
“He fixed the dishwasher last week,” she pointed out quietly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And the dryer.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to bother him with stuff like this,” you countered, trying to ignore how her face lit up every time she mentioned something Logan had done for you. “I’m sure he’s got enough on his plate.”
Laura didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against your desk, her small fingers tapping lightly on the wood. “He likes helping,” she murmured, almost like she was testing the waters.
You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Mhm,” she nodded, but quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the bulletin board behind you. “He’s good at fixing things.”
You watched her for a moment, your irritation from earlier starting to melt away. It was hard to stay frustrated when she was being so earnest. “Okay, okay, I get it. But your dad doesn’t need to be the town’s go-to handyman.”
Laura glanced up at you through her lashes. “Just tell him. Please?”
There was something almost… hopeful in her gaze, and you felt a twinge of guilt. Laura wasn’t the type to ask for much. If this meant that much to her…
“Fine,” you sighed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’ll ask him. But only because you asked nicely.”
Laura’s lips twitched in the faintest smile, a look of victory crossing her face. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but you’re not off the hook yet,” you teased gently. “You still owe me an essay on Newton’s laws of motion, remember?”
She scrunched up her nose, making a face. “I know. I’ll finish it.”
“Good,” you nodded, giving her a playful wink. “And don’t go trying to bribe me with homework just to get me to talk to your dad, okay?”
Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I would never.”
“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Alright, head back to class. Lunch is almost over.”
She gave a small nod, then glanced back at you before leaving. “He really likes you, you know.”
Your heart stuttered, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Laura—”
“Just saying,” she added quickly before ducking out the door and heading down the hallway.
You stared at the empty doorway, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Liking you? What did that even mean coming from an eleven-year-old?
You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. Logan was… well, Logan. Gruff, quiet, and often impossible to read. And sure, he’d been more present lately, but that didn’t mean anything. He was just being a good neighbor.
You glanced at the time on your phone, groaning softly. Lunch was almost over, and you hadn’t even finished setting up for the afternoon class.
“Guess I’ll ask him about the sink,” you muttered under your breath, more to convince yourself than anything.
Because if Laura was already noticing things, how long would it be before the whole town started talking?
---
That evening, after school had ended and you’d finally managed to get through the rest of your lesson plans, you found yourself standing in front of Logan’s place. It was only a short walk down the street, and yet, your feet felt heavier with each step.
You could hear the faint sound of a TV through the open window and the soft murmur of voices—Laura and Logan, probably talking about her day. It was… nice. Domestic. Something that made your chest tighten with an inexplicable emotion.
“Just ask about the sink and go,” you whispered to yourself, giving a firm nod. “No big deal.”
You knocked lightly, and a few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Logan. He was in his usual attire—flannel shirt, jeans—and he looked at you with that same unreadable expression.
“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. “I, uh, wanted to ask for a favor.”
His brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. “What’s goin’ on?”
You hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My kitchen sink started leaking, and… well, I tried fixing it, but I think I made it worse. Laura said you’re good at this kind of stuff, so I thought… maybe…”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “You want me to take a look at it?”
“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “If you’re not too busy. I don’t want to—”
“It’s fine,” he interrupted, already grabbing a toolbox from a nearby shelf. “Let’s go.”
You blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to, like, finish dinner or something first?”
He shot you a look that was almost amused. “I’m not gonna let your kitchen flood because of a sink. C’mon.”
You let out a small laugh, relieved by his reaction. “Okay, fair point. Thanks, Logan.”
“No problem,” he grunted, stepping out onto the porch. “Lead the way.”
As you walked back to your place, you stole a glance at him. Logan might have been gruff and intimidating to most people, but you’d come to learn there was more to him than that.
When you reached your house, Logan set to work immediately, inspecting the pipes under the sink. You leaned against the counter, watching as he tinkered and adjusted, his movements methodical and precise.
“You didn’t have to come over right away,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”
He didn’t look up, just shrugged. “It’s fine. Better to fix it now than let it get worse.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “But still… thanks.”
Logan glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than usual. “You don’t gotta thank me every time I do somethin’ for you, Y/N.”
“I know,” you replied, offering a small smile. “But I want to.”
He gave a low grunt, something between acknowledgment and dismissal, and returned his focus to the pipes. You stayed silent, watching him work, trying to make yourself useful by occasionally handing him a tool or holding a flashlight.
“You’ve done this before, huh?” you asked, breaking the silence again.
Logan didn’t look up, but you saw the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Couple times.”
“Fixing sinks?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Or just everything?”
“Everything,” he muttered. “You learn to handle stuff when no one else can.”
There was an unspoken weight behind his words, something you didn’t pry into. You knew Logan had been through more than he let on—there were pieces of his life you still hadn’t put together, and you weren’t sure you ever would. But that didn’t stop you from being curious.
Instead, you chose to keep the conversation light. “Well, I appreciate it. I probably would’ve made a bigger mess if I’d kept trying.”
He grunted again, this time almost in agreement, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Okay, I walked into that one,” you admitted. “But seriously, thank you. Laura was right—you are good at this.”
Logan tightened the last pipe and stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “She talks too much sometimes.”
You shook your head, still smiling. “She’s just proud of you.”
He didn’t respond, his eyes darkening for a brief moment before he shifted the subject. “It’s done. Shouldn’t leak anymore, but if it does, just call me.”
You nodded, feeling that strange tightening in your chest again. “Got it. Thanks again.”
Logan grabbed his toolbox and started for the door, but something in the air between you both felt unfinished, like there was something unspoken hanging there. Before you could second-guess yourself, you called out.
“Logan?”
He paused, his back to you.
“I meant what I said earlier,” you continued, a little more quietly this time. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to add to it. But I appreciate you helping me.”
Logan turned, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place. For a second, you thought he might say something, but then he just gave a slow nod.
“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he finally said. “If you need somethin’, I’ll be around.”
He turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in your kitchen, staring after him. You exhaled, feeling a mix of confusion and warmth.
Later that evening, as you cleaned up and prepared for the next day’s lessons, you couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in your head. Logan’s quietness, his willingness to help, Laura’s knowing smiles. There was something stirring there, something more than just neighborly concern.
But you pushed the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the practicalities. Logan was a single dad with a complicated past, and you… well, you had your own life to focus on. This wasn’t the time to start overthinking things.
Still, as you drifted off to sleep that night, the image of Logan fixing your sink—focused, calm, and oddly comforting—stayed with you.
---
You’ve never liked storms. You’re not sure why, you grew up in Houston where it rained consistently and encountered a few hurricanes.
But when you turned 18, you went to college further north in Texas, getting away from the rain and finally getting sunshine and real heat, not humid heat.
It never rained much in the north of Minnesota, but when it did rain, it rained a lot. So much so that the school cancelled classes for the rest of the week.
You could use the time to catch up on grading assignments, but instead you found yourself barely able to keep your attention on the TV, flinching every time you heard thunder.
The storm outside raged on, lightning flashing every few seconds, followed by the rumble of thunder that rattled the windows. You glanced at the stack of papers you’d set aside to grade, but your mind just wasn’t in it.
“Why does it always feel worse at night?” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to focus on the TV.
Then, a knock at the door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially with the weather this bad.
You got up, hesitating for a second before opening the door to reveal Laura, soaked from head to toe, holding a small flashlight.
“Laura? What are you doing out here?” you asked, eyes wide with concern.
“Our power went out,” she explained quickly, shivering slightly. “Daddy said I could come over here since your lights are still on.”
You frowned, glancing past her toward Logan’s house, which was barely visible in the heavy rain. “Is your dad coming over too?”
Laura shrugged, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “He said he’d figure it out.”
You closed the door behind her, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and handing it to her. “You should’ve just called, you know. I would’ve come to get you.”
Laura gave you a small smile as she dried off. “It’s fine. I didn’t want to wait.”
You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at her stubbornness. “Of course you didn’t.”
The two of you sat in the living room for a while, Laura settling into the corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, still glancing out the window at the storm every so often.
“How long’s the power been out?” you asked after a few minutes.
“Since just after dinner,” she replied. “Daddy was gonna try and fix it, but he said it might take a while.”
You nodded, already feeling a little guilty. If the power didn’t come back on soon, you’d probably end up with both of them staying over. Not that you minded, but it was one of those situations where you didn’t want to impose. Especially with Logan.
Almost on cue, there was another knock at the door, this one heavier, more deliberate.
You didn’t even have to look to know it was Logan.
You opened the door to find him standing there, drenched like Laura had been. His hair was plastered to his head, and his usual gruff expression was softened slightly by the rain dripping from his face.
“Come on in,” you said quickly, stepping aside.
Logan entered, shaking off some of the rain before giving you a nod. “Thanks. Power’s out, and I don’t think it’s comin’ back anytime soon.”
You closed the door behind him and offered him a towel, which he accepted without a word. He glanced over at Laura, who had made herself comfortable on the couch, and then back at you.
“You alright with us bein’ here?” he asked, his voice low but genuine.
“Of course,” you replied, waving it off. “I’m not gonna let you sit in the dark with no heat.”
Logan nodded, though there was something in his eyes—something like gratitude, though he didn’t voice it.
The three of you sat in the living room for a while, the storm still raging outside. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable silence, but it wasn’t awkward either. Just... quiet. Logan wasn’t one for small talk, and Laura seemed content just to be around people, her gaze flicking back and forth between you and her dad.
As the night wore on, the storm didn’t let up, and Laura’s eyelids started to droop. You glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting.
“You’re welcome to stay the night,” you offered, glancing between them. “It’s still coming down pretty hard out there, and I don’t think the power’s coming back on soon.”
Laura perked up at the suggestion, but Logan hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “We’ll be fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t wanna impose.”
“You’re not imposing,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “There’s a guest bedroom, and I’ve got blankets. Besides, I’m not letting either of you walk back in this mess.”
Laura, sensing her opportunity, chimed in before Logan could object. “I want to stay,” she said quietly, her eyes big and hopeful.
Logan sighed, glancing at his daughter, clearly torn. “Laura…”
“Daddy, it’s still storming,” she added, her voice soft but insistent. “We can stay, right?”
You jumped in before he could refuse. “It’s no trouble, Logan. Really. Laura can take the guest bedroom, and I can sleep on the couch.”
Logan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not sleepin’ on the couch in your own house.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s your bed,” he grunted. “I’ll take the couch.”
Before you could argue, Laura piped up again, her voice full of innocent mischief. “You could both sleep in the bed.”
Your eyes widened, and you quickly glanced at Logan, whose expression had shifted to one of slight surprise.
“Laura,” you started, but she just shrugged, clearly enjoying this more than she should have been.
“What?” she said innocently. “It’s a big bed.”
Logan sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re not helpin’, kid.”
Laura just grinned, her eyes gleaming with quiet victory. “I think I am.”
You cleared your throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m fine with sleepin’ on the couch, really. Can’t really sleep when it’s stormin’ anyways.”
Laura, still lounging on the couch, piped up again, her grin growing wider. “You could just share the bed.”
Your face flushed, and you shot her a look. “Laura—”
“What?” She shrugged, playing innocent, but you could see the hint of mischief in her eyes.
Logan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kid, stop messin’ around.”
She held up her hands in surrender, but the teasing smile on her face didn’t budge. “I’m just saying it’s an option.”
You shook your head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Laura, you’re gonna sleep in the guest room. I’ll be on the couch. End of story.”
Laura rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine.”
Logan glanced at you, his eyes softening for a brief moment before he muttered, “You sure about this? I don’t wanna take your bed.”
You waved him off, trying to sound casual. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just get some rest. You’ve been out in the rain long enough.”
He hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. “Alright. But only because you won’t stop arguin’.”
“Exactly,” you said, smiling a little as you grabbed an extra blanket from the hallway closet and tossed it to Laura. “You can get settled in the guest room, kiddo.”
Laura caught the blanket and headed toward the guest room with a little bounce in her step, clearly pleased with how things were turning out. You watched her disappear down the hallway before turning back to Logan, who was still standing in the living room, looking somewhat out of place.
“You can leave your wet clothes by the door if you want,” you offered, trying to keep things normal, even though the situation felt anything but.
Logan gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, pulling off his soaked jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. He moved slowly, like he was still debating whether to argue about the sleeping arrangements again, but thankfully, he didn’t.
After a minute, he glanced back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You really are stubborn, you know that?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you toward your bedroom. “Fair enough.”
Once he disappeared into the room, you let out a small sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was... not how you expected your night to go. Sharing your house with both Logan and Laura during a storm, with Laura sneakily playing matchmaker. It was almost funny, if not for the fact that Logan being this close made your heart race a little too much for comfort.
You settled back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over yourself and staring at the TV screen without really watching it. The sound of rain pounding against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder filled the quiet, but it was hard to focus on the storm when you knew Logan was in the next room.
Laura had probably planned this all along.
You glanced toward the hallway where the guest room was, wondering if she was already asleep—or if she was lying there, scheming her next move.
Thunder broke you out of your thoughts, making you flinch slightly under the blankets.
You settled deeper into the couch, but sleep wasn’t coming any easier despite the exhaustion from the day. Your mind kept wandering, mostly back to Logan and how natural it had started to feel having him and Laura around. Maybe a little too natural.
A sharp crack of thunder rattled the windows, and you flinched again, instinctively pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You’d thought you were getting used to storms, but this one was relentless, dragging on with no signs of easing up.
Just when you started to think you’d be up all night, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. You turned, expecting to see Laura coming out of the guest room, but instead, Logan stood there in the dim light of the living room, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.
“Can’t sleep?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady, despite the storm.
He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “Not used to sleepin’ anywhere but my own bed.”
You nodded, biting back a knowing smile. “Yeah, I get that. Storm’s not helping much either.”
Logan’s eyes flicked to the window, then back to you. His gaze was a little softer than usual, like the storm had taken some of the edge off his usual roughness. “You alright? Heard you jumpin’ every time the thunder hits.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his concern. “It’s nothing. Just... not a fan of storms.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Logan said, stepping further into the room. He hesitated for a moment, then moved to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Don’t have to tough it out, y’know.��
You looked up at him, caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be this open, to offer any sort of comfort. He usually kept things buried under layers of gruffness and distance.
“Guess I’m just used to toughing it out,” you said softly, offering him a small smile.
Logan studied you for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You don’t always have to. Not with us.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to say. This side of Logan—the quiet, protective side—was something you’d only seen glimpses of before, but tonight, it was like the storm had brought down some of his walls.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” you finally said, but your voice lacked its usual conviction.
“Not worryin’,” Logan replied, his gaze steady. “Just statin’ a fact.”
The thunder rolled again, quieter this time, as if the storm was finally starting to let up. Logan’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, before he stood up, looking like he was about to head back to the bedroom.
But then he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “If you want... there’s room in the bed.”
Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, not sure if you heard him right. “What?”
Logan’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but his expression remained serious. “I ain’t suggestin’ what Laura was earlier,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “Just... if it helps you sleep better, I don’t mind. Couch’s not exactly comfortable.”
Your heart thudded in your chest, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. Logan wasn’t the type to offer comfort lightly, and the idea of sharing a bed with him—platonically or not—made your pulse quicken.
“I—” You faltered, unsure how to respond. But something in the way he was looking at you made it clear this wasn’t just about the storm or being polite. This was about something more—something that had been quietly building between the two of you for a while now.
Before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay.”
Logan’s eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by your answer. He stepped aside as you stood, grabbing the blanket from the couch. Neither of you said anything as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom, the tension thick but not uncomfortable—more like an understanding had settled between you.
Once inside, Logan shifted awkwardly as you took your side of the bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, trying to act like this was normal, like your heart wasn’t racing in your chest. Logan laid down on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance, though the bed felt smaller with him in it.
The sound of the rain outside softened, though the occasional rumble of thunder still rolled in the distance. You stared at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Logan beside you, the space between you feeling charged.
“You good?” Logan asked after a minute, his voice low in the quiet.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”
A beat passed. Then another.
“Thanks,” you added, not just for offering the bed, but for being there, for not making this weird.
Logan turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. “Ain’t nothin’.”
But it was something. It was a lot, actually.
You both lay there in silence for a while, the sound of the rain becoming almost soothing. You could feel the warmth of him next to you, solid and reassuring, and slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease.
Just as your eyes started to drift closed, Logan’s voice broke the silence again, so quiet you almost missed it.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice gruff but sincere. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Not with us around.”
Your heart swelled, a mix of emotions you weren’t quite ready to confront just yet. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his in the small space between you.
Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled gently around yours, his grip warm and steady.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you fell asleep without flinching at the sound of thunder.
---
You woke up to the sound of soft rain pattering against the window, the storm from last night finally easing up. For a second, you forgot where you were, until you felt the weight of the blanket and the warmth of another presence next to you. Logan. His steady breathing filled the quiet space, and you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.
This was new.
You glanced over at him, his face relaxed in sleep, the tension he usually carried nowhere to be found. It was strange seeing him like this—calm, almost peaceful. You could feel the residual warmth from his hand where he’d held yours last night, and the memory made your chest tighten.
Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of quiet. You padded out into the hallway, stopping by Laura’s room to peek in. She was still asleep, wrapped up in blankets, her small body barely a lump under the covers.
You smiled to yourself, already suspecting that she had something to do with last night’s sleeping arrangements. Laura was too clever for her own good sometimes.
In the kitchen, you started brewing coffee, the scent filling the small space. As you waited for it to finish, you found yourself staring out the window, your mind still on Logan. Last night had been... unexpected. But not unwelcome. The way he’d stayed close, offering comfort without making a big deal out of it—it meant more than you wanted to admit.
The soft creak of footsteps behind you pulled you out of your thoughts.
“You’re up early,” Logan’s gravelly voice broke the quiet.
You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his hair still a little mussed from sleep, but otherwise looking much like his usual self.
“Couldn’t sleep much after the storm,” you shrugged, offering him a small smile. “Coffee?”
“Yeah,” he grunted, moving to sit at the kitchen table. “Thanks.”
You poured two mugs, setting one in front of him before taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sipping your coffee in the comfortable silence that had settled between you.
Logan glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his eyes softer than usual. “You sleep alright?”
You hesitated, remembering how easily you’d fallen asleep next to him. “Better than I expected, honestly.”
He grunted in acknowledgment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess the storm wasn’t as bad as you thought.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. “Or maybe it was the company.”
Logan’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on you again. “Thanks for lettin’ us stay. Laura didn’t give you much choice, huh?”
“She didn’t have to,” you replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t gonna let either of you stay in a freezing house with no power.”
Logan nodded, his eyes drifting to the window. “Power should be back on soon. I’ll head back once it’s up.”
You didn’t say anything, but part of you felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. You hadn’t had many moments like this—quiet, with just the two of you—and you found yourself wanting it to last a little longer.
Laura’s quiet footsteps broke the silence as she padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“Mornin’, kid,” Logan greeted her.
“Mornin’,” Laura mumbled, glancing between the two of you with a knowing look before plopping down at the table. “Is the power back on yet?”
“Not yet,” you said, trying to ignore the way she was eyeing you and Logan.
Laura just shrugged, grabbing the cereal box from the counter and helping herself. “Guess we’re stuck here a little longer, huh?”
You shot her a look, but she didn’t seem fazed, her focus on her cereal. It was hard to tell if she was playing innocent or if she was just that good at pretending.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.
Laura perked up at that. “You said you’d help me with my English homework, remember?”
You blinked. “I—uh, right. Yeah, I did say that.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at Laura. “Since when do you need help with English?”
Laura shot him a quick look before turning back to you, all smiles. “I figured Ms. Aberra would be better at explaining it than you.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, starting to catch on. “I’m sure you’re doing fine in English, Laura.”
She shrugged, playing with her spoon. “Yeah, but it’s better when someone explains it.”
Logan just shook his head, clearly not buying it either, but he didn’t say anything, letting Laura’s little game play out.
“Well,” you said, getting up from the table. “I guess we can take a look at it after breakfast.”
Laura grinned, clearly pleased with how things were going. “Thanks, Ms. Aberra.”
You smiled back, even though you knew something was up. Sure, you had been helping her with English homework for a while now, but she didn’t need the help. When she would show you her essays or answers to questions about a reading, they were always perfect. Still, you played along, grabbing your coffee and heading toward the living room.
“Alright,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at her. “Go grab your stuff, and we’ll take a look.”
Laura jumped up, cereal forgotten, and dashed off to retrieve her things. You settled onto the couch, sipping your coffee and trying to push aside the strange feeling that this was part of something bigger. But what?
Logan followed you into the living room, sitting down in the worn armchair opposite you. He gave you a look—one eyebrow slightly raised, lips set in that half-smirk he sometimes wore when he was figuring someone out.
“She really roped you into this, huh?” he asked, voice low and rough.
You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to kids asking for help with schoolwork.”
“Yeah, but Laura? She doesn’t ask for help unless she’s got some kind of angle.”
You laughed softly, but the truth of his words settled somewhere in the back of your mind. Laura wasn’t just a smart kid—she was calculating. You’d seen it in class and at home. The way she observed things, the way she always seemed to know what was going on, even when no one said a word.
“I guess I’ll find out,” you said, leaning back into the couch.
Before Logan could reply, Laura returned, a small notebook and a pencil in hand. She sat beside you, flipping it open to a random page. You glanced at the page, immediately noticing that it was filled with neat, almost perfect handwriting. The essay she’d written didn’t have a single correction or revision mark.
“Alright,” you began, pretending you didn’t see the perfection in front of you. “What do you need help with?”
Laura handed the notebook over, her face perfectly serious. “I just wanted to know if the introduction’s strong enough.”
You skimmed through the first paragraph, and honestly, it was better than anything you’d expect from a sixth grader. If anything, it felt more like she was testing you than asking for actual feedback.
“It’s good,” you said slowly. “Your thesis is clear, and you have a strong opening sentence. You might want to make the transition to your first point a little smoother, but overall, it’s solid.”
Laura nodded thoughtfully, pretending to make a note in her notebook. You watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what game she was playing. There was no way she needed your help, but for some reason, she wanted you here. And Logan, too.
Logan just sat quietly, watching the two of you like he wasn’t quite sure what was happening either. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, fingers tapping lightly. You could feel his presence, steady and grounding, even when he wasn’t saying anything.
Laura glanced at her dad. “Ms. Aberra’s a pretty good teacher, don’t you think?”
Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk back in full force. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
You gave Laura a suspicious look. “You’re not just buttering me up for extra credit, are you?”
Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “No. I just like the way you explain things.”
“Mhm.” You weren’t buying it, but it was hard not to laugh.
The quiet hung between you all for a moment, just the sound of the rain outside and the occasional scrape of Laura’s pencil against her notebook. It felt… peaceful, despite the nagging feeling that something was going on beneath the surface.
“Alright, well,” you finally said, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Looks like you’ve got this handled, Laura. I don’t think you need much help.”
Laura blinked up at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks anyway.”
You caught the look she sent Logan’s way, and suddenly, it clicked. She didn’t need your help with homework—she was just trying to get you to stick around a little longer. Maybe even trying to give you and Logan more time together.
Smart kid.
Logan, of course, said nothing, just watching you with that unreadable expression he wore so well. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, and it both frustrated and intrigued you.
"So," Laura said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What’s the plan today?"
You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one with the notebook full of perfect essays. I thought you had plans."
Laura grinned at that, not even trying to hide it anymore. "I was thinking we could all go out for lunch. Since we’re stuck here."
Logan gave her a look, but didn’t say anything, clearly seeing through her. You stifled a laugh, playing along. "Lunch, huh? You paying?"
Laura shrugged, looking way too pleased with herself. "I’ll ask nicely. Maybe you’ll cover it."
You shook your head, pretending to think it over. "Might be able to swing it."
Logan snorted. "Real generous of you."
"Hey, I’m a teacher. Gotta budget wisely," you shot back, smirking at him.
Laura just smiled, clearly happy with how things were going, and it hit you again—she was definitely playing matchmaker. Subtle, but it was there. Not that you minded. Spending more time with Logan wasn’t exactly a hardship.
Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on you, though. "You’re sure you don’t mind us hanging around?"
You tilted your head, genuinely surprised. "Logan, if I minded, I wouldn’t have let you in. You’re both always welcome here."
For a second, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just gave a slow nod, like he was accepting it—maybe even appreciating it, though he’d never say that out loud. "Thanks."
You shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though you knew it kind of was. "Don’t mention it."
Laura got up, stretching her arms over her head before grabbing her empty bowl. "I’ll go get ready for lunch then," she said, already heading to the sink. "I’m starving."
You watched her go, then turned back to Logan, raising an eyebrow. "Think we’ve got time for that before the power comes back on?"
Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. "Could be out a while longer."
"Convenient," you muttered, though there was no real bite to it.
Logan chuckled, a low, rough sound that made something in your chest tighten. He set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood up, stretching slightly. "Guess we better make sure the kid doesn’t eat the place out of food while we wait."
You laughed, following him into the kitchen. The dynamic between the three of you felt easy now, comfortable in a way that surprised you. Even with Laura’s not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, there was something natural about how you and Logan were around each other. It wasn’t rushed or forced. Just... right.
Laura appeared from the hallway, already dressed and tugging on her jacket. "Ready when you are," she said, a little too cheerfully.
Logan gave her a look. "We haven’t even decided where we’re going."
"I’ll leave that up to the grown-ups," she said, grabbing her shoes.
You exchanged a glance with Logan, both of you clearly thinking the same thing: this kid was way too clever for her own good. But neither of you called her out on it.
"Alright," Logan finally said, grabbing his jacket. "Let’s get going before the power comes back and ruins her plan."
Laura grinned but didn’t say anything, grabbing your hand as you all headed out into the damp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped, but the sky was still overcast, a soft, gray light filtering through the clouds.
You walked beside Logan, Laura skipping a few steps ahead, her eyes darting around like she was taking everything in. She was always like that—watching, observing. And now you knew why. She was playing a long game, slowly pushing you and Logan closer together, little by little.
You couldn’t help but smile. She was good. Really good.
And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to appreciate her efforts.
---
The school did something special for parents on Valentine’s Day. Instead of just handing out donuts or cupcakes, they did a competition.
There was different challenges for each couple, or pairing, to finish, and to make it even better, their kids would have to guide them on certain challenges, like walking blindfolded to the finish line on the field.
Emma glanced over at you as you were going through the list of parent’s names, making sure everyone had a partner. There were a few single parents, so you had to figure out who they should be paired with. But there was an odd number, one parent would have to sit out.
“So… who’s sitting out?” Emma asked, leaning on the desk next to you. She had that casual curiosity in her tone, but you knew she was just as invested in making sure things ran smoothly as you were.
You chewed your lip, staring at the list. “Looks like we’ve got one extra parent. I’m not sure yet.”
Emma peeked over your shoulder, scanning the names. “What about Logan?”
You paused, looking at the list. Logan’s name was there, as was Laura’s, but you hesitated. He wasn’t exactly the type to jump into school events, especially one that involved blindfolds and teamwork. And while he’d been involved in Laura’s life, you weren’t sure he’d want to participate in something like this.
“Yeah, guess he can sit out. We have an odd number of parents anyways.” You put down the clipboard and looked at the empty donut box, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go to the other room and get another box.”
As you moved toward the door, you noticed Laura sitting quietly in the corner, fiddling with her notebook, watching everything with that usual sharpness in her eyes. She had been quiet all morning, almost too quiet. You gave her a smile before heading to the break room, still feeling a little awkward about pairing up the parents.
Emma stayed behind, her eyes flicking between you and Laura, a slight smirk tugging at her lips like she was onto something.
You weaved through the hallway, your mind still on the whole situation. These parent events were always a little tricky when it came to single parents. You knew Logan wasn’t exactly the type to jump into the school scene, especially for something like a Valentine’s Day competition, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he’d want to give it a shot for Laura.
Grabbing the donut box, you paused for a second. The idea of Logan being there today, paired up with someone else, didn’t sit right. Not that you had any reason to feel that way. It was just... Logan. You weren’t even sure if he’d show up.
When you returned to the room, Laura was still sitting there, now scribbling something in her notebook. She glanced up as you entered, her expression neutral but her eyes watching you closely.
“Everything okay?” you asked, setting the fresh box on the table and moving to grab the clipboard again.
Laura nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”
“Thinking about the competition?” You smiled, trying to make conversation, but she just gave you a vague shrug.
“Something like that.”
Emma glanced at you, her smirk still there as she made a little noise of amusement. “Logan didn’t strike me as the ‘competition’ type. But who knows?”
You shot her a look, but before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan walked in. Speak of the devil. He looked around, taking in the sight of parents getting ready, kids buzzing with excitement. His eyes landed on you, and he gave a short nod, his usual gruff greeting.
“You’re here,” you said, surprised, trying to keep your voice casual. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, his hands in his pockets. “Laura signed us up. Thought I’d better show.”
Laura, sitting nearby, perked up but kept her face mostly neutral. She wasn’t about to blow her cover, not yet anyway.
“Right,” you said, glancing down at the clipboard. “Well, there’s an odd number of parents, so... I was thinking maybe you’d sit out.”
Laura, quick as ever, jumped in. “Or you could partner with someone else.”
You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess, but we don’t really have—”
“You could partner with Daddy.” Laura said it so simply, like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t been plotting this for weeks.
Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between the two of you, clearly realizing what his daughter was doing, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting for your reaction.
You stammered a bit, caught completely off guard. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”
Laura gave you a look, one that said she knew exactly what she was doing. “It’s just for the competition. Besides, it’ll be fun.”
Logan’s gaze flicked to you again, and this time, there was a slight smirk on his face. “It’s just a game, right? We’ll survive.”
Emma, watching the whole thing play out, was trying very hard not to laugh. “Looks like you’re stuck with Logan, Y/N.”
You felt a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. It was one thing to think about spending time with Logan, but being thrown into a school competition with him—especially with Laura being the mastermind behind it—was another.
“Okay, fine,” you muttered, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal at all. “I guess we’ll partner up.”
Logan just gave a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s get this over with.”
Laura’s eyes practically sparkled with victory as she hopped up from her seat, already heading toward the field where the first challenge would take place. You followed, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but it was impossible with Logan right next to you.
As you reached the field, the first task was announced: a three-legged race. Of course. Out of all the challenges, it had to be this one. You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ropes being handed out for the pairs to tie their legs together.
"This should be interesting," Logan muttered under his breath, taking one of the ropes and holding it out for you.
You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your nerves behind a smile. "I feel like this is a recipe for disaster."
Logan’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Only if you don’t keep up."
"Me?" You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to tie the rope around your ankle and his. "You’re the one with the bum leg."
Logan grunted, not arguing, though his usual swagger was still intact. "I’ll manage."
Laura stood off to the side, watching with a faint smile, clearly enjoying the show. You could tell she was pleased with herself, and part of you was too, even if you were trying to act like this was no big deal.
"Alright, ready?" Logan asked, standing up straighter after securing the rope.
"As I’ll ever be," you replied, trying to gauge the best way to navigate the race without falling flat on your face.
The whistle blew, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly hopping forward, one leg bound to Logan’s as you tried to find some sort of rhythm. The first few steps were disastrous—Logan’s longer strides making it nearly impossible for you to keep pace without stumbling.
"Slow down!" you laughed, grabbing his arm to steady yourself as you nearly tripped.
Logan smirked, his hand quickly coming to your waist to keep you from toppling over. "You gotta move faster than that, Y/N."
"Or maybe you need to move slower!" you shot back, trying to adjust your steps to match his. After a few shaky moments, you finally found a rhythm, the two of you moving in sync—well, mostly. Logan’s hand lingered at your waist, steadying you as you both half-hopped, half-laughed your way toward the finish line.
"Not bad," Logan grunted as you crossed the line, not quite first, but definitely not last either.
"Not bad?" You shot him a look, still a little breathless from laughing. "I’m pretty sure we almost face-planted three times."
"Could’ve been worse," he replied with a shrug, that smirk of his still in place.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart was still racing—though you weren’t sure if it was from the race or from the fact that Logan had kept his arm around your waist longer than necessary.
Laura, waiting at the sidelines, gave you both a knowing look as you untied the rope. "You guys were pretty good," she commented casually, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.
"Pretty good?" you echoed, shooting her a playful glare. "We almost ate dirt, Laura."
Logan grunted in agreement but didn’t say much, just shaking his head as he rubbed his leg a bit. You noticed the slight grimace that flashed across his face—something you hadn’t seen often, but it was there for just a moment before he covered it up.
"Next challenge is... egg balancing," Emma announced from the other end of the field, holding up a spoon and a carton of eggs.
You and Logan exchanged a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, this’ll be fun."
Logan just sighed, clearly less than thrilled about the prospect of trying to balance an egg on a spoon, but he didn’t protest. You handed him one of the spoons as you lined up for the next round.
"You got a steady hand?" you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.
Logan glanced at the spoon, then back at you. "Steadier than yours, probably."
"Let’s see about that," you shot back, placing the egg carefully on your spoon. The whistle blew, and you both started across the field, trying to keep the fragile eggs from toppling off. You had to admit, Logan had a surprising amount of focus for a guy who usually looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
"Not bad for an old man," you joked, glancing over at him as you both carefully moved toward the finish line.
"Careful, Y/N. That’s how you get egg on your face," Logan muttered, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.
Just as you were nearing the end, Laura darted over, watching closely. "Come on, you guys can do it!"
It was hard to ignore the pride in her voice—she was definitely enjoying watching you two work together. And maybe, despite the ridiculousness of it all, you were too.
By the time you finished, both of your eggs still intact, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. It was silly, sure, but being paired with Logan for these goofy challenges wasn’t as awkward as you thought it might be. In fact, it was... kind of nice.
"Two for two," Logan said with a smirk, handing his spoon back as the event wrapped up.
"Don’t get too cocky," you replied, bumping his arm lightly as you handed yours in too. "We’ll see how you do with the next one."
Laura appeared beside you again, her eyes bright. "You guys make a good team."
You gave her a sideways glance, trying not to read too much into her words. "Yeah, well, it’s all about teamwork, right?"
Logan didn’t say anything, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and there was something there—something unspoken that made your heart skip a beat.
The rest of the day went by in a blur of silly games and laughter, and by the time the event was over, you were exhausted, but in the best way possible. Logan had stayed the whole time, never complaining or trying to bow out early. Laura, of course, was thrilled with how things had turned out, and you couldn’t help but feel like she had succeeded in whatever plan she had been cooking up.
As the parents and kids started to trickle out of the school, you found yourself standing beside Logan near the door. Laura had already run ahead to grab her things, leaving the two of you alone for a moment.
"Thanks for sticking around," you said, glancing up at him. "I know this probably wasn’t your idea of a fun day."
Logan shrugged, his usual nonchalant expression in place. "Wasn’t so bad."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m glad you came. Laura seemed to really enjoy it."
"Yeah," Logan agreed, his gaze softening slightly as he looked in the direction where Laura had run off. "She’s a good kid."
"She is," you said, nodding. "And she’s lucky to have you."
Logan didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Thanks."
There was a brief silence between you, the air charged with something unspoken but palpable. Before you could say anything else, Laura came bounding back, her backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Ready to go?" she asked, looking between the two of you with that same knowing glint in her eyes.
"Yeah," Logan said, ruffling her hair lightly. "Let’s get outta here."
As they started to head for the door, Logan paused, glancing back at you. "See you around, Y/N."
"Yeah," you replied, feeling your heart skip again. "See you around, Logan."
---
It had been a few days since the Valentine’s Day event, and things had settled back into routine. You were sitting in your living room, halfway through grading papers, when there was a knock on your door.
Opening it, you found Logan standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.
"Hey," he greeted, voice low. "Laura wanted me to ask if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. Just... thought it’d be nice."
You blinked, surprised by the invitation. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to invite people over casually, but something about the way he stood there, slightly awkward, made your heart skip a beat.
"Sure," you said, smiling. "I’d like that."
Dinner at Logan’s place was unexpectedly warm. Laura set the table with care, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected as Logan recounted some old stories about his past. The tension that usually simmered between you felt different tonight—softer, like you were slowly crossing an invisible line you’d both been careful to avoid.
As you helped clear the dishes, your hand brushed against Logan’s, and the brief contact made you pause. He glanced at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a quiet acknowledgment of something building between you.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a little too long.
“Anytime,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you as you turned to put the plates away. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was hard with Logan standing so close. It was like every time you were around him, you felt like something unspoken hovered between you—something that Laura, in her quiet, clever way, seemed determined to help along.
Laura wandered back into the room, a book in her hands. “Y/N, can you help me with my English homework?” she asked, holding it up and glancing between you and Logan like she hadn’t just interrupted a moment.
You blinked, turning to her with a small smile. “Of course, I can take a look.”
“Great!” Laura said, her voice a little too cheerful. She plopped down on the couch and spread her notebook and book out in front of her. “It’s this essay I’ve got to write.”
Logan lingered by the kitchen counter, his eyes flicking to Laura’s book with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he muttered, and before you could say anything, he was stepping outside, probably to get some fresh air or give you and Laura some space.
You turned your attention back to Laura, still smiling but a bit confused. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”
Laura launched into an explanation, talking about a character analysis she needed to do for class. As you glanced over her notes, though, it struck you that everything was pretty much perfect. Her sentences were clear, her argument made sense, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. Like always, it was perfect.
“Laura… this is really good,” you said slowly, giving her an impressed look. “I don’t think you need help with this.”
Laura’s face stayed impassive, but you caught a faint hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay,” she said casually, glancing in the direction Logan had gone.
Something clicked then, and you had to suppress a chuckle. So this was just another one of Laura’s little schemes to get you to stick around. You were starting to see the pattern—tiny excuses to keep you close, to get you and Logan in the same room more often. It was subtle, but now that you were catching on, it was impossible to miss.
“Well, your essay’s great,” you said, folding your arms as you gave her a knowing look. “But I think there’s more going on here than just English homework.”
Laura’s gaze stayed steady on yours, and for a moment, you could see a glimpse of something deeper in those eyes—something far beyond her years. “He’s lonely,” she said quietly, so softly that you almost missed it.
Your heart gave a small squeeze at that. It was true that Logan always seemed like a man on the outskirts of everything, never quite fitting in. And you knew he and Laura had been through a lot together, more than most people could imagine. But he wasn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings—or admit he might need someone else in his life.
“Maybe,” you replied gently, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “But that’s something he has to figure out on his own, okay?”
Laura nodded slowly, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “He likes you,” she said, blunt as ever. “And you like him.”
Your cheeks heated, and you glanced away, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t the first time Laura has said something like this. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”
“Why not?” she asked, her brow furrowing like she genuinely didn’t understand.
You struggled to find the right words. How could you explain that things with Logan were complicated—that you weren’t sure where you stood with him, or if there was even a place for you in his life beyond being Laura’s teacher? And yet, every time you were near him, there was this pull, this quiet magnetism that made you wonder.
“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” you admitted finally, feeling a little silly for having this conversation with an eleven-year-old.
Laura’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You won’t.”
Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan stepped back inside, his gaze immediately going to the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone gruff but laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Yeah, we’re good,” you said quickly, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions Laura’s words had stirred up. You stood up, smoothing down your shirt as you gave him a smile. “I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.”
Logan nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost looked like disappointment. “I’ll walk you out.”
He led you to the door, and you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laura. She gave you a small, encouraging smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Thanks again for coming,” Logan said as he opened the door, his voice a little softer than usual.
“Anytime,” you replied, echoing your earlier words as you stepped outside. The cool night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of Logan’s gaze on you.
There was a long pause, the kind that felt like something should be said, but neither of you knew what. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you glanced up at him.
“Logan, I—”
“Y/N, I—”
You both spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a startled laugh.
“You first,” Logan muttered, his lips twitching into a faint smile.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I wanted to say that I really enjoyed tonight. And I know Laura’s been… well, playing matchmaker or something,” you added with a chuckle, “but I just want you to know that I’m not—”
“Using her as an excuse to get close?” Logan finished for you, his voice dry but not unkind.
You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah.”
Logan stood there, his eyes steady on yours, and for a moment, you both let the silence fill the space between you. He shifted his weight, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit, and for the first time, it felt like he was truly considering what to say next.
"Look, I know Laura's been trying to push things," he said, his voice low and gruff, but gentler than usual. "She's... smart, too smart sometimes. But this—tonight—it wasn’t just about her."
You blinked, surprised by his admission. You weren’t used to Logan being so open, especially about anything personal. He seemed to read the surprise in your face and let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like this was harder for him than any physical fight he’d been in.
"What I mean is," he continued, glancing at the ground before his eyes flicked back up to yours, "it’s not just her, Y/N. I didn’t mind tonight. And that’s not something I say often."
Your breath hitched a little at his words, heart beating a little faster. There was a vulnerability in Logan that you weren’t expecting—a side of him that he clearly didn’t let out much, if at all.
"I didn’t mind it either," you said softly, trying to match his tone, to let him know you weren’t taking this lightly. "And Laura... well, she’s got a way of seeing things."
Logan let out a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that caught you off guard. "Yeah, she does. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good." His eyes softened as he spoke about her, a fondness there that made you smile.
"She just wants you to be happy," you said gently. "And, I guess, maybe me too."
Logan looked at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more here than just a shared concern for Laura. You had always admired Logan’s strength, his quiet loyalty, the way he looked after Laura with such fierce protectiveness. But standing there now, with the night air cool against your skin and Logan’s presence so close, it felt different. More personal.
"You know," Logan said after a long pause, his voice low again, "I don’t exactly have a lot of people in my life. Never been good at that sort of thing. But... you’re good with Laura. And you’re—" He stopped, his jaw tightening for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should say the next part. "You’re good for us."
Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you could feel the weight of what he wasn’t saying—the layers beneath that simple statement. You’re good for us. It wasn’t just about being Laura’s teacher anymore. It was about something more.
Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced a smile to keep things light. “Good for you?” you repeated with a slight chuckle. There was an ache there, something that hinted at how much more those words meant coming from Logan—someone who didn’t let people in easily. The way he looked at you, steady and deliberate, made it hard to brush aside. His eyes held yours a little longer than usual, almost daring you to look away.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble, and you couldn’t help but notice how the weight of the night seemed to gather between you, thick in the air. Logan’s usual guarded stance had softened, just enough for you to sense it. He stepped a bit closer, enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, the earthy scent of cigars and the wild outdoors clinging to his skin.
You shifted on your feet, trying to figure out where this was heading, but the flutter in your chest only grew stronger. Something unspoken seemed to pass between you two, like a current beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to reach down and touch it.
“I think Laura’s got something figured out,” you admitted, voice soft as you kept your eyes on him. “She’s smart enough to see what’s happening here.”
Logan’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile. “Yeah, too smart sometimes.” His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up at you, there was something different there—something raw. “But she’s right. You’re good for us. Hell, you’re good for me.” His words carried a weight, a kind of honesty that took you by surprise, even though deep down, you’d been hoping to hear them for a while.
You swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse quickened. “Logan, I…” You started to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that drew you in.
And then, as if some invisible line snapped, Logan took another step toward you, his rough hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, the touch light but electrifying. “I don’t say things like this often,” he muttered, his voice husky, the growl in it more pronounced now, “but I want you to stay close. For Laura, yeah, but... for me too.”
Your breath hitched as his words sank in, your body reacting to the closeness of him, the way his hand lingered on your cheek. It wasn’t just the softness in his eyes or the tenderness of his touch, but the way he was looking at you, like he was seeing more than just the surface.
“I’ve wanted to stay close,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, as your hand gently touched his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, like the pull between you was more than just chemistry.
Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the cool night air, the sound of distant traffic, even the faint light from inside the house. All that mattered was the closeness, the way you could feel his breath mingling with yours.
Before you knew it, Logan was leaning in, and you closed the gap without thinking. His lips pressed against yours, rough and warm, and everything else just melted away. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but then it deepened, and the heat between you flared like wildfire.
His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you could feel the solid strength of his body as you pressed into him. The kiss was everything you hadn’t let yourself think about for so long—filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.
Logan kissed like he lived—intensely, without holding back. His grip on your waist tightened as if he was afraid to let go, and you responded in kind, threading your fingers into the rough texture of his hair. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just the two of you, connected in this raw, unexpected moment.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, you both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still ragged.
“I—” you started to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and hoarse.
“Don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t ruin it with words, not yet.”
You nodded, biting back whatever thought was trying to escape. The night air felt cooler now, the warmth of Logan’s body contrasting sharply against it, grounding you in the moment. His hand lingered on your waist, thumb brushing your side, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, like even he was surprised by what just happened.
After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice quieter than before. “Didn’t think this’d happen,” he admitted, almost to himself.
You gave a soft laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Me either.”
His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and he shifted slightly, his hand moving from your waist to gently brush your cheek. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender for him that it made your heart twist a little.
For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. Part of you wanted to step back, to put some distance between you and Logan, to give yourself a chance to think. But another part—the stronger part—wanted to stay right where you were, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the rough edge of his thumb grazing your cheek.
Meanwhile, Laura peeked through the blinds, a smile spreading across her face.
tags: @freythecrazyfae
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett#old man logan
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Some Guy on Fear Gas (can apparently turn invisible)
Masterpost
“Danny was supposed to be in class today.”
There was a round of sighs in the coms. See Danny didn’t react in the same manner as the rest of the population when exposed to fear toxin (or in general, but they were mostly used to that). See Danny didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t get violent. He got unnervingly paranoid.
He got so unnervingly paranoid about being watched, specifically by the government if the muttered and whispered words were to be believed. His eyes tracked nothing while he slowly moved around invisible people. It wasn't like dealing with someone in an active hallucination experiencing a psychotic break. It was like dealing with someone in a paranoid delusion. He wouldn't let any of the bats near him and often took off, disappearing into the chaos.
Four months into seeing this kid everywhere and their suspicions were confirmed when he literally disappeared after the second time being poisoned.
Danny was a meta and he was afraid.
That’s not the reason for the exasperation felt by this family though. It was what always happened after. The first time he ignored every vigilantly when they tried to bring it up. After the second time he attempted to avoid everyone, extended family included.
(He had asked Kate if she was also Batman’s kid. “More like their aunt.” “Oh okay so it really is a family business. Like that show Unnatural. You don't happen to have also lost your parents at a relatively young age and now go on to fight a dark presence in their honor, do you?.” Kate had stared passively at him, the others had warned her. “….. okay… are you more of a Zuko honor type?”)
However, it was like the universe conspired against Danny. Even Bruce agreed that there had to be some god or being doing this (nothing is ever a coincidence). They kinda felt bad for him. He was very obviously trying to avoid them and he was either really bad at being evasive or a deity was laugh at him. Once he had thrown himself behind a lamp pole smaller than himself and closed his eyes to avoid Stephanie.
(It was very awkward. He could turn invisible and knew they knew so why…..? She had politely continued past so not to embarrass the poor guy further. Cause this was embarrassing and they both knew it.)
Finally it was Duke who pulled them all out of limbo. He had come across Danny on the roof of another bank. A lesser known capital union closer to crime ally this time.
Danny hadn’t been avoiding Duke in the same manner as everyone else. He still stopped to give Duke food but he never spoke and he ran after. Duke thought it would be weird to chase him but it was also weird to turn around, have an orange shoved into his hands then watch his friend run away.
However, this time Danny didn’t run as Duke approached so Duke sat next to him. Pulling out a granola bar, he handed it to Danny, “that’s why you feed me all the time right? Cause you know how many calories we need as metas.”
Danny had laughed, “no actually, that was a bit that morphed into a habit. I just thought it was funny.”
“….what.”
“Don’t get me wrong, now that we’re friends I am more than happy to feed you but yeah. The first candy bar was a thank you and then the second time I thought ‘I have fruit.’”
“….. wow… okay.” There went his plan of empathizing. They sat in silence as Duke tried to reorganize his thoughts.
“I’m sorry for avoiding you all.” Duke turned his head to face Danny, who kept his eyes forward, “you know no one cares that you’re a meta.” “Obviously. It wasn’t the invisibility that I was upset about," Danny said.
“The muttering. The paranoia.” Danny grimaced and didn’t say anything.
“You don’t have to tell us till you’re ready, man. Just let us know if you need help. Please, are you safe?”
Danny nodded and Duke nodded back and they had both continued to sit. When they parted ways Danny handed Duke a small bag of chips.
Danny had apologized everyone one at a time even though they had heard it from Duke. Danny never explained nor did he want to talk about his it. His power of invisibility was also a subject off limits. All of them were worried but they didn’t want to force him to talk about it. They had to trust that he would one day feel comfortable doing so with any or all of them. (Still, it was hard seeing their friend so paranoid that he flinched back from them. )
Post Six
#I dont think I made this one to serious.#batman#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x dc#dp crossover#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#dpx#danny is just some guy
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southern rivalries
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warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, cheerleader!reader, football player!rafe, college football but i dont know anything so please excuse any wrong details, rivals to lovers, p in v sex, protected sex to unprotected sex lol, sixty nine, male and female receiving oral, male receiving handjob, brief injury but no one is seriously hurt
words: 2.3k
“they're not just a different school.” steffie says, placing her hands down on the table as her tone turns way too serious for the subject. “they're our rivals, our arch nemeses. the war has torn families apart.”
“it's football.” you say plainly. “college. football.”
“i can tell you're new here.” steffies friend tiffy agrees (you've always wondered if they purposely chose their nicknames to rhyme considering they seem attached at the hip). “you just don't get it. football is life here in the south.”
“and north carolina are our rivals. even though we are north carolina.” you are trying to wrap your head around the culture at your new school.
“kind of but also, not at all.” tiffy says while steffie finishes the sentiment for her. “we are nc state. the wolf pack. our rivals are unc tar heels.”
“tar heels is a dumb name.” you snort.
“exactly!” steffie agrees.
the conversation shifts, but it never goes to far from football, too far from the rivalry that seems to extend to everything, from other sports to academics.
“did you cheer in high school?” steffie asks.
“yeah.” you nod. “well, not sideline because it conflicted with volleyball. i did competitive though.”
“you should try out for our sideline team. we need more numbers and…” her voice turns to a whisper like she's sharing a deep, dark secret. “my sister is the team captain. you'll definitely get on the squad if i put in a good word for you.”
-- two months later --
“wolf!” you shout with your fellow cheerleaders, listening to the crowd scream back.
“pack!”
“wolf!” you yell again before dropping your poms, quickly learning that most of the girls never did competitive cheer and aren't the best tumblers, leaving you to be the one flipping across the sidelines to the cheers of fans.
you wave and kick and cheer, just happy to have something to do on friday nights. you feel a little guilty for beating out girls that are a lot more passionate about football and your college, but you try your best to put it past you.
you get back in the line, yelling out cheers and keeping your cheeks stretched wide with a smile, occasionally glancing at the clock to see how much longer until your halftime routine (as well as the score… a little bit.)
the seconds are ticking down and you're about to raise your poms again to shake the red and white colors in the air, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn, you're hit in the back.
“ahhh!” you scream out and fall forward, the football player falling with you as the ball falls from his hands.
“shit.” he groans and quickly rolls off of you. “are you okay?”
you roll over onto your back, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen after the air was knocked out of your lungs.
you realize quickly that the football player now moved to hover over top of you is not one of your own with his powder blue jersey and white helmet.
“im-” you take another deep suck of breath, but this time not in recovery as you see his face through the face mask, blue eyes looking into yours and the most handsome face you've ever seen.
“im fine.” you manage to say before you're surrounded by a crowd, the wolfpack players pulling the opposing player away and your fellow cheerleaders helping you back up.
steffie pushes strands of hair out of your face, getting you back to proper uniform while tiffy shoves your fallen poms back into your grip.
“ew.” tiffy says, wiping the back of your uniform like the tar heel player left a literal stain on you.
“and our cheerleader is back and up on her feet! let's give it up for her as number 19 rafe cameron re-enters the field after their clash.”
you wave your hand in the air as the crowd claps for you, their attention briefly away from the field, but there's only one thing on your mind. rafe cameron.
-- two hours later --
“what are you doing?” steffie yells, snatching your phone from your hand and making you quickly regret agreeing to be her and tiffies third roommate.
“don't you know fraternization is not allowed with tar heels?”
“im not doing anything!” you grab your phone back out of her hand, still opened up to his instagram page. “simply looking at the guy who hit me, okay? i was just curious.”
“mhm.” steffie gives you a glaring look that clearly says she doesn't believe you.
you sigh softly and close out of the account, not that there's many posts to look at anyways, and only a few not on the football field with his helmet off and structured face in full view.
“let's go out.” you say quickly.
“after we lost the game?” steffie shakes her head.
“alright, whatever.” you get up to get dressed in something cute, not willing to let the football teams loss hold you back from living your life, and admittedly you need a breath of fresh air away from cheer or football or your dorm mates.
--
you're at a club you've never been to before, not one of the ones that plasters wolfpack pride posters to all of their walls and plays the red and white anthem like it's a kesha song.
you show the bouncer your id and step into the music filled room, quickly ordering yourself a drink when you hear loud whooping from a different section.
you look over and find a group of men that you quickly realize despite the clubs colorful lighting are wearing that recognizable baby blue.
“of course.” you groan, just happening to stumble into the same bar as the unc players while you're trying to not think about football or even college despite all your classes being easy entry level.
you're about to pay your tab and leave when a deep, familiar voice speaks from jarringly close.
“another drink of whatever the lady is having.”
“i- no, no.” you shake your head, only briefly glancing at him. rafe. “im fine.”
“you're that cheerleader, aren't you?” he leans his elbow against the table, and the bartender makes you a drink and places it down in front of you despite your attempted disapproval.
“yeah.” you nod. “not that… into all of this i guess.” you shrug, hand waving at the logo on his shirt. “i didn't know y'all came here to celebrate.”
“ah.” he nods. “and your name?”
you realize quickly that you know far too much about him when all he knows is that he accidentally hit you, and that you cheer for his rival team.
“y/n.” you reply, taking a sip of your drink, actually tasting it this time instead of quickly gulping it down like you did the first time.
“im rafe.” he reaches his hand out and you shake it, wondering if the invisible blue stain is somehow going to be picked up on by steffie and tiffy when you eventually make it back to your dorm.
“i never got to properly apologize. i did look for you after the game. i guess it was fate that brought you here tonight.” rafe squeezes your hand, and you quickly realize it's still held in his grip. “im sorry.”
“im not supposed to-” you quickly take your hand out of his grasp. “im not supposed to be talking to you. sorry.”
“ah.” he says again. “that pesty no fraternization rule. im not supposed to be talking to you either.”
there's a pause, a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of the tension brewing between the two of you.
“but that's not going to stop me from asking you back to my hotel room.”
the words barely leave his lips before your mouth is on his.
--
it's a mess of hands, furiously grabbing and tugging at clothes until you're both down to just your undergarments.
“shit.” you laugh, noticing that even rafes underwear is carolina blue.
“team issued.” he clarifies quickly as he pulls you down with him as he falls back onto the bed. your lips press against his as you straddle his hips.
you press your crotch down over his, feeling the way he's already pressing up against your panties.
“god, let me get my mouth on you.” you groan, sinking down to lick and kiss at the grooves of his chest and abs, trying to commit the taste of his skin to memory, not sure if you'll ever have this chance again.
you reach his blue boxers and press your lips against the clear outline of his hard cock, wetting the fabric with your spit before you're sick of the barrier and lean back only to pull the underwear down his thighs.
“fuck.” rafe moans out when your mouth is immediately back on his cock, this time able to put his length into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, quickly setting a rhythm as you try to coax your throat to allow him deeper.
“y/n.” rafe tugs on your hair, and you groan when you're forced to pull away.
“what?” you snap.
“get your ass up here.”
you move quickly, shucking off your panties and moving so your pussy is hovering over rafes face. he looks up at you for a brief second, just to take a breath and stare into your glistening cunt, before his hands are pulling your hips down and your clit onto his awaiting mouth.
you take his cock in your hand, pressing open mouth kisses and licks all over, not sure how well you can blow him when your moans are loud and filling the hotel room.
rafe mumbles something that you can't might make out, but it may be “delicious.” as his mouth devours your pussy, tongue swiping through your folds obsequiously, paying attention to every moan of yours and what causes your pussy to clench.
“fuck.” you groan, hand moving to take over for your mouth as your jaw drops open, stroking up and down his length that makes your cunt squeeze again thinking about having inside you.
rafe pushes your hips away, and before you can argue or control your body, he uses his strong football muscles to flip you into your back and rest your head against the hotel rooms fluffy pillows.
“i need you.” rafe says, reaching towards his wallet on the nightstand and pulling out a condom, tearing it before sinking the rubber over his length.
“fuck yes.” you moan out. who knew exactly what you needed to feel better was to hookup with the player on the opposing team, the rule breaking only making things even more exciting.
rafe grabs your leg and pulls it over his hip before lining up with your entrance. he sinks forward slowly, eyes on your face in case you show any sign of pain.
“you're so fucking warm.” rafe moans out, dropping to kiss you sloppily as his hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you.
he gives you both a minute to adjust before hes hovering over you, strong arms holding himself up as he pounds into you.
“fuck!” you squeal out, one hand gripping the bed sheets while the other reaches up to the headboard, trying to find some stability while he wrecks your pussy.
you hope rafe won't last too long because you can already feel your high building despite not wanting it to be over anytime soon.
one time certainly won't be enough to satisfy you, especially not as you look up at rafes face, still gorgeous and chiseled even as his jaw is slackened as he fucks you with pure pleasure and bliss in his eyes.
“you-” you gasp out. “you feel amazing. so good.”
“damn right i do.” rafe smiles a cocky grin down at you as he somehow manages to speed up even more. “filling you perfectly. this pussy is mine.”
you try (and fail) to not let the words go to your head.
you even briefly think of what your fellow cheerleaders would think if they knew what you were doing right now, how tiffy and steffie would react if they knew just how much that unseen blue has been smeared across your naked body, how much of it is dripping from your cunt.
“im-im not far.” rafe warns, ignoring the cramp in his throwing arm to warn you.
“ffff-” you hold back the urge to curse again as your mind spins. “condom off, please. i need you to cum in me.”
rafe certainly isn't going to argue, even though it might not be the smartest idea. he kneels between your legs, one hand coming to massage your clit while the other pulls the condom off.
rafe strokes himself once before pushing back inside of you, keeping one hand on your clit as your pleasure grows, hips seeming to raise higher and higher off the bed the closer your high gets.
“cumming.” rafe manages to say seconds before he bursts, warm spurts of cum filling your insides, thankfully not being wasted being trapped inside rubber.
the warm filled sensation causes you to tip over the edge too, body shaking as rafe collapses over you, rubbing your clit with his cock lodged inside of you until both your highs have worn out, your pussy sucking and clenching out every bit of cum he has to give.
“god.” rafe rolls off of you and onto his back. “you are fucking amazing.”
“you did most of the work.” you giggle.
“you know.” rafe says as he pulls you into his chest. “you play us at home in three weeks.”
“mmm.” you lift your head up and press a kiss against his jaw before you bare your teeth and nip at his skin. “perfect time for us to get revenge.”
“keep that up and i might just have to tackle you again next game.” rafe laughs, but you just flip over so you're on top of him, straddling his hips as his cock starts to grow again.
“you wouldn't dare.”
“if it gets you in my bed all night then i might.”
#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x oc#rafe drabble#rafe blurb#rafe imagine#rafe one shot#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron imagine#college au
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MAKE IT TO THE MORNING ; JACK HUGHES
PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader
SUMMARY being jack hughes’ girlfriend comes with a lot of hardships— but in the mornings, you realize it is all worth it.
WARNINGS unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), rough sex, p slapping, cockwarming, dirty talk, jack is lowkey a little shit, reader loves him tho, inspired by the song “make it to the morning” by partynextdoor. freaky af!!!
WORD COUNT 2,3k
FROM ME TO YOU a little late (literally, it’s like 3am for me), but this is my thank you gift for you guys because today i woke up with 700 of you!! i’m still too in shock to say anything besides thank you so much. i was celebrating 600 followers like a month ago and now this. i’ll keep working hard to give you guys good content <3 ily and pls enjoy
𖧷
don't scream or shout, i'm workin' my way down
girl, you gettin' loud, now put it in yo' mouth
THE SOUND of your heels clicking against the marble floor was enough to piss anyone off. It was annoying, repetitive and even you were starting to get tired of the little tec tec sound, but you couldn’t stop.
Dating Jack Rowden Hughes was not for the weak. And you knew that, more than anyone else. Being his girlfriend of three years— the longest time he has ever been in a relationship, mind you—, you knew that the prize was good, but the job of keeping it was tiring.
You stared at him across the room, talking to some random fans who definitely didn’t know what being a fan was, since they were all over him, with their hands on his arms and shoulders.
He eyed you from time to time, blue eyes making it hard for you to stay one hundred percent mad at him— truthfully, you knew that all it would take for you to forgive him for his playboy behaviour would be a single kiss and an aggressive make out session.
“It isn’t so fun watching from here, huh?” Quinn’s new fling, or whatever the girl standing beside you was, said, approaching you quietly. “Trust me, I know how it feels.”
You hummed, not engaging with her. You knew Jack wouldn’t actually do anything, but still, it didn’t feel nice to get painted as the dumb girlfriend who has to watch her famous boyfriend laugh and take pictures with hundreds of girls while she stands in the back.
“I’m lucky my Quinn isn’t as nearly as talkative as he is,” she continues, despite your silence. “But you know, Jack is everyone’s favorite.”
You turned your head to the side, watching the girl next to you eye Jack the same way she eyed Quinn, hungry and suggestive, and that was enough for you.
“Sorry,” you interrupted, putting your wine glass down— it had been empty for at least ten minutes— and smiling apologetically. “I have a terrible headache, so I think it’s time for me to head out.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that,” she pouts, and you can feel your eyes twitch. “It is pretty late too, so you must be tired.”
“Mhm.” You nod, looking at your phone. 3:46a.m.
“Do you want me to call Jacky?” She asks, expectantly, and the way she says his name makes you want to smash her face against the crumbles of cake sitting on the buffet table.
“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry,” you play dumb. “It was nice seeing you…”
You forgot her name. It was probably something like Olivia or Madeline, but still. You didn’t remember.
“It was nice seeing you, too!” She says, apparently clueless to your lack of memory— and interest. “I’ll text you later so we can talk more.”
“Sure thing, yeah.” You walk towards Jack with long, careful steps. “Hey, babe.”
His eyes are on you immediately, his hair moving around with his abrupt move. He smiles, stepping out of the little circle the girls had made around him to wrap his arms around you.
“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” he says. “Hi, baby.”
You can feel the girls’ eyes on you, burning your skin like the fictional fairies’ whenever they touch iron. It is a feeling you are used to already, but you feel yourself shivering either way.
“Can we go?” You ask, bluntly ignoring the other women there. “It’s late.”
“Yeah, we can,” he nods, turning his head back to his little girl group before smiling at them. “See ya, ladies.”
See ya, ladies?
“Bye, Jack.”
“You’re the best!”
“See ya next time!”
You can’t hide your pout on your way home— you don’t even try to. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest as you sit in the front seat of Jack’s absurdly expensive car, listening to the quiet hum of his air conditioner and the annoying noise whenever he turns on the turn signal.
“You’re not mad… are you?”
His voice is tentative, almost as if he’s scared of asking the question.
“Are you kidding me? You spent half of that ridiculous party talking to women. Tell me I can’t be mad about that.” You hiss back, not looking at him. You know there are high chances of you folding bad if you do.
“Baby, I already told you, it’s all business,” he says, once again, because he has, indeed, told you that several times before. “I can’t have them saying I’m a rude guy, can I?”
“Sometimes I can’t believe the shit you say,” you scoff. “You literally told a reporter to fuck himself last week, on live. Talk about being a nice guy now, Jack.”
“Come on, you’re not being fair!” He exclaims, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “He talked shit about you. He was lucky I didn’t punch him in the face.”
You rolled your eyes, biting your lips to hide your smile.
Little does Jack know you jumped out of the couch when you saw the transmission and giggled while you sent texts to your best friend about how you would have to be the mother of his children.
You stayed silent, looking at the dark streets, briefly forgetting about your anger to notice how beautiful your city is. There weren't many people in the streets at that hour— it was summer, yes, but it was almost four a.m and it was still Monday, and a lot of people were still working.
When you got to your and Jack’s apartment— a two bedroom penthouse with plenty of space and a kitchen you still fell in love with every time you looked at it— you didn’t waste time before heading to the guest bathroom shower, a clear sign that you didn’t want Jack to join you, which you knew pissed him off.
You were quick even though you weren’t sleepy, washing the soap off your body under the lukewarm water; happy because it was your favorite scent.
You got out of the stall, opening the bathroom door after you wrapped the towel around your body, deciding to change inside your bedroom.
Or at least that’s what you thought you would do.
“Y/n.” Jack calls you, sitting on top of the bed.
“Fuck, Jack,” you grunt. “You scared me.”
“I can’t have you mad at me, baby,” he says, getting up and walking towards you, only stopping when your covered chest is touching his. “You know those women mean nothing.”
“Jack,” you sigh. “We’ve been here before. You can’t just say that every time you flirt with other women.”
“I wasn’t—” he starts, but interrupts himself mid sentence. “You’re making shit up.”
“Am I?” You ask, holding the towel tighter. “You damn well I’m not.”
“Listen,” he says. “I’m not proud with the way I acted but I already told you—”
“It’s all business. I know, you know, we all know.” You roll your eyes, stepping back and moving forward so you can leave the room. His hand finds your waist almost immediately, locking you in place. “Jack—”
“You’re so full of complaints, baby,” he whispers. “Every time we go out you complain about something.”
“I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t give me reasons to.”
He clicks his tongue, running his fingers over your naked arms. You shiver slightly, hoping he doesn’t see it. “You want more?”
“More what?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.
“More reasons to complain,” he continues, chuckling as he lowers his head and hides it in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Real reasons to complain.”
“Wha—”
“Because I’ll give them to you, if you want to,” he licks your skin, and you can feel yourself start to malfunction. He’s a little shit, you think, as you slowly start to give in. He’s a little shit and I’m in love with him. “Or I can keep your mouth full so you can’t complain anymore.”
He stands up straight again, staring at you while his fingers move to where you were holding your towel.
“What’s your pick, baby?” He whispers, removing your grip from the soft fabric around your body, letting it fall on the floor, like a puddle of water on your feet.
You’re fully naked, and he can’t even pretend he’s not looking— he is. He always is.
Jack kisses you with hungry, tender lips. He holds your neck while he licks your lips with his tongue, hot and messy. He tastes like beer and you hate it, but you cannot get enough.
You wrap your own arms around his neck, holding him so close to you you could feel his heartbeat. Kissing him never got old, and if you were to write down your top ten favorite things about Jack Hughes, his kiss would definitely be number one.
You breathe in his scent, your favorite ever since you met him, and you can feel your legs start to give in, just like the rest of your body. It’s late at night, almost morning, your body can’t keep up with your mind and you want to tell Jack to fuck off.
Yet.
“Come on, baby,” he whispers against your lips, as he guides you to the bed, laying you down with your hips on the edge of it. “Let me give you something to make noise about.”
That’s the only warning you get before he gets his knees on the floor and separates your legs, leaving you open and exposed. You feel his fingers spreading your lips open, and when his tongue finds its way to your clit, all of your previous complaints are gone.
You close your legs around his neck, holding him in place, while he puts on a show for you, his fingers tracing the wetness pouring out of you.
You let out a soft moan, holding his hair with your hands, not bothering to be gentle. His tongue found your clit again, rubbing it in slow, circular motions.
“Jack.”
You trash under him as he flicked your sensitive nub with his mouth, the wet noises making you want to disappear. Jack always seemed pleased to go down on you, but you still aren’t used to this fact about him.
“So sweet, baby,” he murmurs, the vibrations of his words sending shivers down your spine, as he dives in again.
He has you curling your toes and arching your back, moaning his name loud and proud, but still, he doesn’t stop. He slides his arms under your thighs, holding you in place by gripping your waist, hard.
He has you coming in under five minutes— it’s a shame it’s over so soon, but what can you do, really. He looks up at you between your thighs, and the sight alone has you moaning, desperate for something else.
You pull his hair, gently, signaling to him that you wanted him up, closer to you, and so he does. He kisses you again, and you get to taste yourself on his lips, moaning loudly inside his mouth when you feel his dick trapped between his body and yours.
“Jack,” you whisper again, placing both of your hands on his cheeks. “I need you.”
“Yeah. I can see that.” He says, chuckling as he gets off you and removes the rest of his clothes.
He slides inside you with no hesitation or whatsoever, knowing too well that your inside’s have his print all over it. You both moan loudly, louder than you should be moaning at four something in the morning, but you can deal with the complaint letter later.
He holds your legs together, pressing them against your chest, almost folding you in half. He is being rough, something you absolutely want to kill him for, but you let yourself enjoy the roughness for a moment; you can scold him later.
You can feel him deeper now, as your body gets dragged up and down against the mattress, making you want to scream.
“You’re wet,” he says through his teeth and you can tell he’s also giving in. “Y/n, fuck.”
You’re clenching around his length as he strokes your G spot, dragging his dick against your walls, once again making sure you can take everything he gives you.
“Harder.” You hear someone ask, probably yourself, and you also hear his low chuckle. “Not enough.”
“Still complaining?” He asks, but doesn’t give you time to answer. Instead, he removes his right hand from your waist and does the one thing he knows it will have you drooling and begging under him.
He slaps your pussy. The wet, loud sound that fills the room makes you squirm, unconsciously trying to remove yourself from his hold. But he’s stronger, always has been.
“Take it, baby.”
He then slaps you again, and again, and so many times you stop counting. The feeling of his cock throbbing inside you, and his rough slaps against your clit is enough to make you come, leaving you almost lifeless under him.
“Good girl, Y/n,” he says, kissing your lips, briefly. “I’m gonna come, fuck.”
“Inside, please,” you hear yourself mumbling, and you’re not even sure if Jack hears it.
“What was that, baby?” He asks, his thrusts getting sloppy.
“Inside?”
“Fuck,” he curses. “I’m—”
He cums inside you, the familiar feeling making you sigh with bliss. You are both panting, the room smells of sweat, alcohol and sex, and you swear you can see the sun start to rise through the bedroom’s floor to ceiling windows.
You’re just about to tell Jack you want to go to sleep when you feel him start to pull out, which has you protesting, immediately.
“No, I— sleep inside, please?”
His blue eyes are staring down at you, and now, there’s a hint of a smile plastered on his face. He nods once, manhandling you around until you’re under the sheets, with your back glued to his chest, and his length still nestled inside you.
“Well, if you’re still mad at me,” he whispers. “At least we made it to the morning, huh?”
“Shut up,” you whisper back, barely hiding your smile. “If you keep talking, there won’t be any other morning.”
He laughs, kissing the top of your head. “Very well, then.”
𖧷
NHL MASTERLIST. JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST
#jack hughes#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jack hughes au#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes smut#jack hughes imagine#new jersey devils x you#new jersey devils x reader#new jersey devils fic#new jersey devils#jh86
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Cycle of Greed
Azriel x Reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p5 - p6
summary: Azriel suspects Elain is his mate, reader is ignored, Rhysand and Cass are protective of reader
wc: 2,3k
warnings: Azriel... self hatred, insecurities
a/n: reader's nickname is Ace but there's no physical descriptions
It started subtly, coming home and not noticing her boyfriend's absence, too tired to notice, waking up to a cold and empty bed, brushing past it thinking Az must have been busy, even though he never mentioned anything. The first time you noticed he wasn't, it hit you like a slap to the face.
A family dinner was scheduled tonight, even though you had dinner with your family all the time, tonight was the only night of the month no one was allowed to miss. Rhysand made sure all of you would be free.
You had woken up early today, before the sun had risen, Azriel not being in bed with you didn't seem weird at all, Az often left the bed before the sun was up, he had trouble sleeping and once he woke it was hard to go back to sleep. After spending some time reading in bed you decided to make breakfast, after washing up you went downstairs, expecting to see containers of food left in the sink but there was none, so either Azriel hadn't eaten when he got home or he didn't come home at all. But again, she brushed it off, he probably had a good reason for it.
After eating breakfast, you went to change into your training clothes, just because it was an off day didn't mean you should skip training. Normally, you used a punching bag to literally beat your stress away but today you weren't even stressed, there wasn't even someone to keep you entertained, so training ended up being just boring.
Again, you came back to an empty home, no signs of your boyfriend. After a few minutes of staring at the walls you decided that perhaps a few hours in Velaris would be exciting, maybe you would visit Feyre's gallery. Walking through the streets is definitely a nice thing, the people passing by know who you are and what you do but still gave you friendly smiles. Watching the children play freely and unbothered made you wonder if, someday, your own children would be doing the same, little Illyrians terrorizing the streets of Velaris.
"Hey! Wasn't expecting you here today." Feyre's voice snapped you out of your daydream.
"Well, I'd rather spend hours looking at your paintings than the blank walls at home." You laughed.
"If that's the case then come with me, I just finished a new one." She slipped her arm through yours and pulled you further into the gallery. Fortunately for your boredom, Feyre had kept you busy the whole day, showing you her new artworks and even making you paint with her.
Hours later you were finally coming home, your feet screamed at you to sit down but you refused to winnow, not wanting to miss out on any new place that might have opened. You were so tired that your mind wasn't anywhere near Azriel, fully focused on resting as soon as you reached home. You only realized you had fallen asleep when the front door banged closed, your boyfriend's scent filling your nose.
"Az?" You sat up rubbing your tense neck, the couch, as comfortable as it was, was not meant for sleeping.
"Yeah, didn't know you were here." He seemed confused and... angry?
"Are you okay?" You slowly made your way towards him but he stepped back, turning towards the stairs.
"Fine, I'll go wash up for dinner, don't follow me." And with that he ran up. You took his anger as the result of his work, figuring that something had probably stressed him out.
Your eyes that were still foggy from sleep had finally cleared, allowing you to notice how dark the living room was, it was already night and you had probably slept for a couple hours. When you went up to bathe, you heard a loud bang from your bedroom. Azriel often isolated himself as to not take his anger out on anyone close to him, so you continued walking towards the guest bedroom, washing up in the adjoined bathroom. Only when you were finished did you make your way to your bedroom, the door was fully closed so you opened it carefully, the bathroom door was left open so Azriel was probably downstairs. You dressed up unhurried, taking the time to choose your clothes, fixing your hair and choosing shoes. When you went down, Azriel was nowhere to be seen, you called out to him but received no response, perhaps Rhys had called him?
'Rhys, is Azriel with you?' You asked, praying he would hear you.
'Yes, he said he thought you wouldn't come." Rhys answered, his voice oddly quiet, without its usual confidence. 'Are you two okay?'
'I– Yes? Well, I think so? Did he say anything?' Not once had it crossed your mind that your relationship was the cause of Azriel's stress, were you stressing him? If so, why didn't he say anything?
'Never mind. Are you coming?' Suddenly you weren't sure if you should, maybe Az had gone alone because he didn't want you there. 'Please come...'
Rhys pleaded, scaring you even more. Rhysand never pleaded.
'I don't know,' you were still standing in the middle of the living room, you could just winnow, but would your boyfriend want that? 'Maybe I should stay home tonight–'
'No. It's family dinner, fuck Azriel's dramatic ass, I don't know what's wrong with him but it's not your fault. You're coming, even if I have to go pick you up myself.'
𓂃
"My office, now." Rhysand's growl seemed to vibrate through his bones.
"Rhys–"
"No! Azriel." He walked out of the room, leaving Azriel to stare at his back, Elain kept gazing at him wide eyed. 'Come with me or I'll come to your girl, your choice.' His mind talons not bothering to make a gentle appearance.
Azriel left without looking back, still feeling Elain's gentle gaze following him. His heartbeat ringed in his ear, time seemed to pass by slowly as he walked the corridors to Rhys' office, darkness consuming the corners of every wall. The doors were left open showing his brother's back facing him, as soon as he entered they banged closed, before he said anything, Cassian winnowed beside him.
"What's wrong?" Cassian looked at them both, his hurried voice echoing through the silent room.
"Azriel was kissing Elain." Rhys turned to look at them both, giving Cassian a nod towards Az, his arms crossed against his chest while he leaned against the desk.
"I didn't–"
"You were going to!" Rhysand spat, making Azriel shut his mouth, he couldn't deny it.
"Wait–" Cassian stepped forward, watching as Az lowered his head, gasping when he realized it was true, "No fucking way! Did Ace break up with you?" Azriel's only response was a deep sigh.
"No, she didn't." Rhys answered for him.
"Brother..." Cassian's hand met Az' shoulder, "Why?" He was pissed but needed to know why Azriel was acting like that.
"I think–"
"Huh, you're not even sure." Rhys scoffed, shaking his head.
"I think Elain is my mate."
"What? Az, that's really serious..." Cass spoke softly, almost unsure. "Are you sure?"
"I– No, but it just makes sense!"
"How, Azriel?" Rhysand yelled, stepping closer to him. "How does it make sense? You've known Ace for centuries, been dating her for 80 years, you live with her! I swear I thought you were going to propose to her soon!" His hand met Azriel's sholder, shaking him. Rhys sighed, dropping his head and shoving Az away before turning back to sit on his chair.
"Az," Cassian started, "Does Ace know?"
"No, I don't know how to tell her." Az muttered the last part.
"You'll have to find a way. I don't know why you think Elain is your mate and not her but she deserves to know. Having a mate doesn't necessarily mean you two should be romantically involved, nor should you be anything at all, but it is clear that you're attracted to Elain and that's just... unacceptable."
"Why?" Azriel said exasperated, "Three brothers for three sisters, it just makes sense!" He yelled,banging his hands on Rhysand's desk.
"Are you insane?" Rhys yelled back, standing up from his chair. "You are in a relationship, Azriel! It doesn't matter if it makes sense, be responsible, she's not just a fling you had, you can't push her aside just because your cock gets hard around a pretty female. Ace is your girlfriend, has been for almost a century, the possibility of another female being your mate should not interfere in your relationship with her, it didn't have to. Elain could end up being just a great friend, or even better, Ace could be your mate..."
"If she was my mate, don't you think it would've snapped by now?" Azriel's question didn't really sound like a question.
"Is that all you heard from everything Rhys said?" Cassian looked incredulous.
"Azriel..." Rhysand's patient was slipping away. "I do not know what to say to make you understand–"
"There's nothing to understand, Elain is my mate and I want to be with her."
"Then fucking break up with Ace first!" Darkness crawling their way around them.
"What the fuck, brother?" Cassian yelled, for the first time that morning. "Didn't you learn anything from Mor leading you on all those centuries? You want to be with Elain? Fine, but break up with your girlfriend first. Just know that there's a lot in line here..." Silence enveloped the three of them, tension sitting heavy on their shoulders.
"Leave, go talk to Ace and fix this shit," Rhysand rubbed his temples, "Don't do to her what has been done to you."
𓂃
Azriel spent a few hours flying above Velaris, trying to forget about what had happened, he didn't know what he did wrong or why Rhysand was so upset. He decided to come back and talk with Elain first, then he'd talk with you, but Rhysand's talons scratched his mind walls as soon as he saw her, telling him to stay away from her until he broke up with you. When he got home he was so upset that you were the only thing keeping him from his possible mate, that when he saw you, he would definitely take his anger out on you. You were so relaxed and he was completely the opposite of that, your eyes puffy from sleep while his were bloodshot from the lack of it.
He couldn't stop the sudden hatred that consumed him at hearing your voice, he wasn't sure if it was directed at you or him, he spend the whole day resenting you while you were here worried about him. He couldn't stand the sound of your comforting voice, not while comparing it to Elain's, your eyes searching for his with so much love and he wondered when was the last time he really stared into them.
So he ignored you, he wasn't sure what he had answered you, his whole body aching with stress that he just wanted some form of release. Release that never came, he thought that by the time he finished bathing he'd feel better, but he didn't. Nothing seemed to work, the warm water did nothing to help soothe his muscles, and no matter how much he scratched, he still felt dirty.
Stepping out of the bathroom only angered him further, your scent still lingered even after hours of leaving the bed. Azriel didn't know what he'd do if you talked to him again, didn't know what he'd tell you, if he lied you would know, and if he didn't... you would be hurt.
𓂃
As soon as your eyes focused on the house, you wanted to winnow back home, but Rhys didn't give you a chance to do so. The front door being yanked open made you tear your eyes from the window, where you could see silhouette with wings, the smile your High Lord greeted you with was comforting. He was loyal to his brothers, if you had done something to upset Azriel, he wouldn't be smiling at you like that.
"You came!" He waved his hand, calling you inside.
"Someone threatened me." He laughed at your attempted joke, no humor filling your voice. As you walked closer to him, he pulled you into a hug, it didn't really seem like it was for you, his chin rested on your shoulder like you weren't almost half his size, it was comforting nonetheless. An exaggerated gasp pulled you away from each other's embrace.
"That's like the worse form of betrayal!" Cassian cried out, his hand that was resting on his chest reached out to push Rhysand away. "We could've had a family hug but you were selfish." His strong arms engulfing you into an embrace, lifting you off the ground, he let out a dramatic groan as if it had taken him so much effort to do so.
"Stop it, you're going to squeeze her." Rhys laughed, tapping his brothers shoulder.
"Jealous." Cassian whispered in your ear, making you giggle.
By the time Cassian set you back down, you had forgotten you were worried, if that was Rhysand's intention when he came to greet you at the door, it had worked. You were pulled inside by the hand, Cass gushing about all the things there were for dinner, his groovy voice muffling out a female giggle. The table was set only a few minutes after Cassian had sat her down, his conversation topics never ending. The first time she saw Azriel, he was coming out of the kitchen, right after Elain.
"She needed help with the dessert." Nesta muttered, her voice filled with something she couldn't exactly place. She couldn't dwell on it further, Azriel was looking at her now, his feet glued to the ground. It was clear he really wasn't expecting her to come.
#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel fic#azriel x you#⛓️࿐𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝
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I love crack baby so much💜💜💜 what would happen if mc asked Bruce to either (1) be sent off to like a boarding school or (2) just move to a different city, cause you know Bruce has to have properties in other cities if he needs them. I wonder if they’d be able to spin a lie or justification to get them sent away
(I’d love to be on a tag list for crack baby if there is one, I’d hate to miss an update!!)
ahh thank u for ur kind words! masterlist
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honestly, bruce would be more inclined to send you to a boarding school. at this point in time, he doesn't really know anything about you - maybe you are really studious and he just didnt know.
he starts to ask you a lot about it, "where do you want to go? which subjects do you want to study?" all of a sudden, this fool-proof plan to leave had bruce hovering over your shoulder 24/7 with dumbass questions.
he becomes overbearing, the more he spends time with you, the more he believes that a boarding school is a bad idea! it's far away, you'd have to live in a dorm, you wouldn't be able to communicate with the family, plus you're just a helpless child..
when he asks if you're sure you want to go to a boarding school you give him the deadest stare ever, "yes i want to go to a boarding school or i wouldn't have suggested it!"
sighs, what is he to do? :/
well, anyway you finally pull up to the boarding school and you are elated! you got out of that damn manor, you can start a new life and--
why the fuck is the whole family in your dorm?
"i bought this school."
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as for moving to another city, he literally says no.
just, no.
no matter how much you plead for justify your actions, bruce is NOT budging.
you can't move cities! you're a child, a baby! you'd get swallowed by the big bad outside world! how could you even suggest such a thing?
his answer is no, and he keeps a closer eye on you to make sure you're not getting any funny ideas. however, if you play your cards right, he miiiight let you stay a few months in bludhaven, just to sedate you.
just, don't worry about nightwing breaking into your house everynight, he's just checking in on his baby sibling! stop screaming!!
after 2-3 months, bruce will swoop in and take you back home! wasn't that fun? you had your time out of gotham, now it's time to come back to where you really belong,
with them.
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#batman#dc fanfiction#platonic batfam#platonic yandere#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#platonic yandere batfam#platonic dick grayson x reader#platonic bruce wayne x reader#yandere dick grayson#yandere batman#yandere bruce wayne
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Slashers handling ovulating s/o?? 😚
Btw I love your work so much! You’re amazing
Slashers with Ovulating! Reader
Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo
Warnings: MDNI, suggestive and mature content (It gets pretty steamy but nothing too crazy)
A/N: Definitely the most NSFW fic I've posted on this page. As a reminder, I don't write smut so this will probably be as steamy as I get for my posts. But this was a fun request, and I enjoyed writing for it! Thank you, Anon!
Freddy Krueger
Your dreams give you away
(Yes, he'll watch your dreams if he's not already controlling them; there's no privacy with this man)
And he's very interested in these dreams you've been having recently
It only takes a couple for Freddy to quickly snap
You'll go to sleep one night only to find yourself immediately in Freddy's domain
The setting and environment feeling very familiar somehow
You won't see him at first, but you'll definitely feel him around you, his voice echoing around the dreamscape
"Wanna make those dreams come true, baby?" he cackles throughout the darkness
Before you'll be able to respond, you'll feel his hand slide over your waist
The question was mostly out of politeness
He's not going to let you say no now that he has you (not that you were going to anyways)
Michael Myers
He picks up on everything in an instant
Your smell, your actions, your voice- literally everything is screaming at him
Now, Michael has a lot of self-discipline
He could just go about the day like usual and not need to indulge in anything
But he wants to
Don't mistaken this for "giving in"
It's just another way for him to put himself in control
You're just so desperate for him that he can just about get away with anything he wants
A simple touch has you weak in the knees, a slap on the ass has you arching your back
He could just absolutely ruin you these next few days
And he is very much planning on doing so
Jason Voorhees
Jason is fairly innocent when it comes to this sort of topic with you
But unlike Bubba, he does pick up on your teasing after a bit, he's just too flustered to do anything back
He loves the attention, but the way you're making him feel is causing him to freeze up and blush wildly under his mask
He knows you love him, but he can't understand how someone like you could possibly desire someone like him
He can't even hold eye contact with you when you're looking at him like that
When you've finally grown too impatient, you'll hop on his lap and grab his cheek, forcing him to look at you
He'll give you a big sigh and concerned eyes, silently asking if you're sure
"Jason. I want you. I want you and only you."
Those words must have been laced with magic, because a switch flips, and he's suddenly standing up, holding you bridal style
He'll toss you onto the bed and crawl on top, suddenly more confident than earlier
Looks like all he needs is a little bit of reassurance during this time of the month
Thomas Hewitt
It might just be the primal side of him, but he can literally smell it
Your pheromones during this time of month are always consistent to the point that he anticipates this weeks in advance
He lingers around you more often than normal (which isn't saying much since he stays near you 99% of the time anyways)
He's just waiting for the moment that you'll let him take a bite
And if you bump into him just slightly, his breath hitches and he'll freeze, hoping maybe you'll turn that bump into something more
Stands a little too close to you so he can breathe in your scent
But he's also hoping it'll increase the chance of you rubbing up against him on "accident"
This only makes things worse for the both of you until you two are finally alone together
All you have to do is give him that look, and he's throwing you over his shoulder, locking you two away for the night
Bubba Sawyer
Bubba is a very innocent man
He didn't even really know what the concept of "sex" was before you
So unfortunately for you, pulling out all stops will quite literally do nothing
You could stand there completely bare in front of him, and he'll sweetly think you want to shower
That's not to say you're constant touches and flirting don't do anything for him
They do, he just doesn't understand what that feeling is yet
When you finally get to be alone with him, you'll gently let your hands wander, watching carefully at his reactions
Once you hit a sensitive spot, you'll know
His breath will hitch and he'll give you this soft, pleading look
And once you kiss him, that fire inside him will quickly engulf his body
You just have to give him a sweet questioning glance, and he'll be feverishly nodding his head, grabbing at your wrists to continue
Brahms Heelshire
To be honest, whether or not your ovulating doesn't really change how Brahms acts around you day to day
Because he is always down bad for you
But he does appreciate how quickly you seem to return his advances during this time of the month
He enjoys turning it into some sort of game when he can too
You'll feel his breath on your neck, only to be met with an empty room
You'll feel his gaze on you all throughout the house without a single sight of his whereabouts
When you finally have had enough, you'll break
Turning on the shower peaks his interest
And the moment he sees that first button of your top open, he's revealing himself from the walls
You've been working so hard for him today
He thinks it's time for you to finally relax
Norman Bates
Norman knows before you do
The sweet man tracks your cycles for you, always wanting to be prepared to care for you in the way you need
But this time of month isn't one where he feels too bold
He becomes even more shy somehow, having trouble holding eye contact
Every kiss or hug from you sets him aflame, and he turns into a blushing mess
It's honestly like he's the one who's ovulating
And all you have to do is hold him for just a little bit too long and whisper in his ear to make him break
He'll quite literally fall to his knees in front of you, waiting for anything
He'll do whatever it is you ask
Like I said, he wants to care for you in any way you need
Billy Loomis
He tries to be smug about everything
You're more affectionate than normal, even doing some PDA that he's not used to from you
He just acts like his usual self out in public
But the moment you two are alone, he confronts you
He'll pin you against the door, his free hand wandering across your skin while he looks at you with dark eyes
"You think I can't see what you're doing? It's not very nice of you to be such a tease."
His voice is barely above a whisper while his grip on you tightens
His wandering hand finds the most sensitive spot on you and squeezes, causing you to let out a whimper
He smiles in return
"You're going to have to do better than that to make it up to me," he whispers, leaning in gently
Stu Macher
Look at this guy
He literally can't keep his tongue in his mouth (sorry, bad joke)
He can tell something is up though
You're more cuddly than usual, practically sitting on his lap at all points during the day
And Stu does not mind one bit, but he isn't sure what's gotten into you
You're hoping he'll take the hint, but he's as oblivious as he is happy
It's only when you straddle his lap and kiss him deeply that he understands what's going on
His hands are on you in an instant
He'll happily oblige to your "demands"
Just be careful when and where you decide to break though
Because the moment you open that door, Stu will be having you in that instant
And if he has to pull you into a broom closet in public to do so...
He will
Vincent Sinclair
Despite barely seeing the light of day most of his life, he's fairly knowledgeable about everything
But unlike his brother, he doesn't really get driven up the wall by this time of the month
He just wants you to be happy, so if being flirted with and touched every two seconds is what you want, he'll happily go along with it
Even though his face feels like it's going to burn off again every time
He won't initiate anything, but he also won't say no to anything you do
Just guide his hands and tell him what you need, and he'll be helping you out instantly
He doesn't even expect anything in return
But when you smile at him just like that, his brain might short circuit
He'll be your slave if you ask nicely
Bo Sinclair
Bo is, well, Bo
He sometimes acts like he can't tell or that he's too "deep" into his work at the moment to be bothered
But he knows
And he loves the feeling of being needed and desired
You'll come up to him, hugging him for a bit too long, your hands lingering on his chest and torso
He likes to play coy
He wants to see you break first
He'll happily make it worse for you too
Hands on your waist, a gentle caress of your neck, that piercing gaze of his
He can see your face flush and body practically tremble at his actions
But he won't do anything about it
It won't be until the end of the day when he finally comes back home to find you already waiting at the door
You about have to throw yourself onto him before that smile finally breaks out onto his face
"So impatient, aren't we darlin'? Gonna show me just how badly you need me?"
#slashers x reader#slasher preference#slashers headcanon#slashers preference#slashers#michael myers headcanons#michael myers x reader#michael myers#jason voorhees headcanons#jason voorhees x reader#jason voorhees#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#brahms heelshire x reader#brahms heelshire#brahms heelshire headcanon#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis headcanon#billy loomis#stu macher x reader#stu macher#stu macher headcanons#vincent sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair#freddy krueger#freddy krueger x reader
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THE PERFECT GIRL / paige bueckers
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ghostface!paige x fem!reader headcanons!!
cw: blood mention, killing mention, manipulative paige, overstim, lowkey whiney but dom paige, basically no dialogue yay!!
yall met either in elementary or middle school. some random girl was being rude to you and of course paige wanted to stand up for you. and ever since the yall have been best friends
definitely the type to quiet literally go insane once boys or girls start to look at you with interest. she is declining all their offers to you and you're always get upset about it, and she'll always reassure you, "oh come on.. you know i know what's best, y/n."
when you got your first girlfriend, she was livid. always looking at her a certain way, always had something smart to say back to her, anytime you would bring her up she would say something mean about her. she was so much better than your girlfriend so why weren't you dating her?
and when one week your girlfriend just disappeared and you were heartbroken, who was there for you? paige of course. she stayed at your house 24/7 comforting you. would go pick up whatever you wanted and made sure you were alright. while she's holding you in bed she can't help but think back to your girlfriends screams as she tortured her, her crying and begging to be let go because why would y/n's best friend hurt her? anyways
and another week later when her body was found, you were disgusted. who in their right mind would brutally kill someone like that? and paige was there for every moment of it. still holding you while you cried over that worthless girl.
for the rest of high school you never had another girlfriend, too scared of losing that one as well. paige didn't mind at all, maybe just a little bit because she wanted to kill them but....
she was never scared to stand up for you either, especially at parties when guys just would not catch the fucking hint to back off of what's hers. his body was also found two days later, multiple stab wounds covering his body.
when it was time for the both of you to graduate, she followed you to uconn. making sure that both of you could be roommates!! and you were so happy to have your best friend with you there. only problem was her jealous issues got way worse.
since you were an adult now, you were going out more with friends, dressing up in dresses what fit you so well that paige couldn't help but stay home that night and just think of you while touching herself, whining out your name while she cums
goes right back to being normal with you afterwards!! always the one to pick you up while youre drunk out of your mind. making sure you're buckled up in the car, has a cover in the car to cover you up with, if you're hungry she'll always stop somewhere for you
but you start to get real concerned when anyone who asks you out just starts showing up dead? you don't think it's paige at all, you don't catch onto it at first
you go to every single one of her basketball games, being the loudest in the crowd. she's always looking over to you to make sure you're watching her. her favorite is after the game and you run up to her in the court. her wrapping her arms around you, both of you laughing and smiling. she can't help herself but lean down and press her lips to yours, the both of you surprised
after that game she takes you on so many dates, wanting you to see how well she can treat you. she's buying you any and everything you have ever wanted
she hasn't killed anyone in a while, stopped for a couple months once the two of you started dating
that changes once you became friends with a certain group of people. them influencing you to do whatever, one of them being extremely touchy and flirty with you. but you don't pay attention to them, you're head over heels for paige you don't even realize they are flirting with you
andddd they show up dead as well... this murder being the worse one they've seen so far. you don't think anything of it until you you're cleaning yalls dorm/apartment and you find a bag in the room. opening it you see a ghostface mask and knives which are covered in blood
you'd been frozen for over a minute now, not even realizing the paige was walked into the room. you're full of every emotion, you don't know whether to be disgusted, angry, or what
argument breaks out between the two of you, you're yelling at her and accusing her of killing all of your friends. argument ends with paige pushing you against the wall and pressing her mouth against yours, can't help herself but grind herself against you
she's just so whiney while kissing you and trying to speak to you, telling lies about "nonono, i would never do that, you have to believe me, baby.."
ends up with her hands in your shorts, thrusting her fingers deep inside you as you whine for more. you're gone so fast once her thumb finds your clit, rubbing quick circles against it. she can't help but tease you on how "you're such a slut, cumming on my hands knowing that I killed all your friends? your ex girlfriend? just know i'm better than them, hm?"
her movement doesn't stop either as you whine, staring up at her with tears streaming down your face, from the pleasure? or from knowing she killed all those people? you have no idea
her thumb stays rubbing against your clit that you can't help but cum again and again because of her. after your third orgasm she slaps your cunt just slightly before pulling her hand out of your messy shorts.
"can give me more, can't you? waited so long to get you. had to watch people try so hard for you just for them to end up bleeding to death because of me," she's rambling now as she pulls your shorts down, your cum sticking all over your thighs which makes her laugh. "soaking wet as i'm talking about killing them? 's pathetic, y/n." just muttering to herself like she can't stop
forcing you onto the bed as she falls between your thighs, her tongue pushing deep inside you as you cry and try to pull away from the pleasure. she's pulling you back every time, her arms holding you down as you moan for her to stop and slow down. you feel terrible knowing that you're about to cum on her mouth knowing that she killed all those people.. but you just can't help it, she's so hot and just so good at eating you out
eventually you're begging for her cock, random babbles just coming from you as you plead her for more and how "i won't tell anyone, paige!! p-please just want y-you so bad," you're hiccuping and slurring your words slightly from how intense you're orgasms feel
lowkey got carried away with this but i also imagine you either joining her or leaving her... of course joining her would make her extremely happy but leaving?? she's tracking you down and she will find you
taglist for those who commented on the post!! @cosmopretty @martinsgirl @elliecoochieeater @melpthatsme @sweetluna20 @st4rrzynight !!!
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x fem reader#paige bueckers smut#smut#ghostface#ghostface paige bueckers#heart4caitlin
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merry chrtismas angel !!!<3
idk if your taking requests today but anything with sevika and reader who celebrate Christmas with isha and jinx and everything is happy and jolly and everyone is alive and well
-💌
merry christmas to all my readers who celebrate!! and if you don't: i hope whatever holiday you partake in is festive and fun and EASY this year (i.e. no family drama ahahhaahha)
men and minors dni
"we might've overdone it..." you consider as you examine the literal mountain of wrapped gifts shoved under your tree. sevika giggles.
"it's their first christmas with us. half of this shit is just stuff for their room." sevika reminds you.
"it's gonna take them all day to get through this stuff."
sevika laughs. "just means we get a day free from having to entertain them."
you laugh and lean against your wife, both of you smiling at the christmas tree. the girls spent the entire evening dressing it up. you're going to be vacuuming glitter out of the carpet for years to come, but it's all worth it for the happy laughs that came from isha and jinx as they covered the tree in tassels and handmade ornaments and garlands.
you and sevika shuffle to bed a few minutes later, exchanging sleepy, happy kisses in each other's arms before falling asleep.
you wake up to squealing.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!"
"wha? wha's happening?" sevika asks as she shoots up in bed beside you.
your bedroom door slams open and isha and jinx both come tumbling in, sprinting up on your bed.
"YOU GOT US SO MANY FUCKING PRESENTS!!" jinx screams as she jumps on your bed. you giggle.
"AAAAAAAAHHH!!" isha squeals, tackling you and sevika back down onto the mattress to wrap you up in a big hug. your heart bursts.
"the sun's not even up yet." sevika whines. you can hear the smile in her voice yet.
"too bad, old lady! get up! it's christmas time!"
you spend the morning making pancakes and watching isha and jinx tear into their presents. sevika hangs off your hips, her chin hooked over your shoulder, a kiss pressed to your throat intermittently.
jinx cries when she opens her customized tool kit-- the handles hand made by a local artisan-- purple and blue swirled together with her name carved in all the tools' handles.
isha stands in pure shock for a full minute when she unwraps her own bike-- all decked out with a basket and pink and blue tassels in the handles. then, she hops on, and rides the bike directly into the christmas tree.
by mid-afternoon, the girls have passed out in a pile of pajama-clad limbs in front of the fire place, exhausted after all the excitement from the morning.
"i'd call that a success." sevika mutters, cheersing her spiked hot coco against yours.
you giggle. "merry christmas, love. you'll be getting your present from me a little later tonight." you tease. sevika laughs.
"what a coincidence. that's when i was gonna give you your present too."
"ugh, you guys are disgusting." jinx mumbles from the floor. you snort and throw a crumbled up ball of wrapping paper at her head. she flips you off, then sighs. "here." she says, reaching out for something under a pile of wrapping paper.
sevika takes it from her hands, a small box wrapped in construction paper; doodles from both isha and jinx decorating it.
sevika carefully unwraps it, refusing to tear the special paper.
tears well up in your eyes the moment sevika pulls out the bedazzled picture frame-- the photo inside taken a few months ago-- all four of you dressed up and smiling bright at the camera.
the treasures and sparkles decorating the frame are clearly all collected by isha-- bottle caps and marbles and anything else shiny she's been able to find.
sevika turns the frame over, and she lets out a choked sob as you both read the note on the back.
none of us expected that this is what our family would be, but now that it's here i wouldn't trade it for the world. thank you. jinx. and isha
isha wakes up with a groan when you and sevika dive off the couch and on top of your girls on the carpet, cuddling them all into your arms as you cry.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25
@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby
@blackgaladriel
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Take Me Home Tonight
♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader
♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is 28-29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. Also, Cunnilingus first chap
♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8.3k
♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name.
Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right?
That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? 💓Materlist💓
(If you wanna be tagged in updates let me know 💓) Lawyer AU
Chapter 1
The music throbbed in your chest, vibrating against your ribs as you navigated the packed dance floor. You weren't much of a club person, but your good friend Maki insisted you needed to 'let loose' after a particularly stressful week doing the LSATS. It had definitely taken its toll on all of you and your friends, but you’d passed, now finally in one of the top law schools after your Bachelors.
Now, surrounded by a sea of bodies writhing to the beat, you were unsure what the appeal was, overwhelming your senses. The heat of the crowd, the energy radiating from every corner of the room, people so close as you stood there it was as if you could not breathe. Everyone was dancing wildly in the club, a club you felt out of place in.
For years you’d pretty much holed yourself up in your room or overachieved in class. you had no time for boyfriends, distractions, fun… not if you wanted a top score and a killer internship.
You were ambitious as fuck.
Maki said you should all be proud, let loose… have fun but you’d damn near forgotten how to.
Maki was dancing with Yuta now, another boy going to the same law school as you two, they wave at you through the crowd, you smile and wave back, then decide to face everyone and go grab a drink finally. You were more of a wallflower than anything, preferring to be at home with a good book rather than dancing around on various college boys, you wish you were a little more fun.
You head over to where the bar is, shyly getting the attention of the bartender, grabbing a cranberry vodka. The social anxiety was creeping in so you figure the alcohol will fix it.
You turn, then smash into someone.
“Shit!” You look at the broad chest you’d bumped into, the only thing in your field of vision, of a very expensive looking shirt you’d just dropped cranberry vodka all over, spreading through the fancy fabric quickly, luckily, it was a navy blue, but you still panicked. You snatch up a ton of napkins and start frantically wiping at it. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Can I pay for drycleaning? Do I need to buy one? I-”
A hand grabs your wrist, big, enveloping it like you were nothing, and your eyes finally rise up to the tall man in front of you, a smirk playing on handsome features. His eyes were the most striking thing about him, blue as the sky after a storm, sparkling with something devious, fringed by white spiky lashes. His face was so pretty it nearly hurt to look at.
Full lips, perfect model cheekbones, a strong jaw line… literally looking like he stepped out of GQ or something. His silvery white hair was striking, and he stood well over a foot taller than you, imposing, tempting…and your hand was on his chest, clutching crumpled napkins, your wrist in that firm grip.
You froze, overwhelmed, confused by your reaction… you’d met plenty of gorgeous men in your life, you had handsome male friends, but something about him drew out something primal in you… Something…
The fuck. The dude has you wet?
Jesus maybe you were due for a good fuck.
Maki was right.
“It’s all right, lots of women have this reaction. I’m just really ridiculously good looking.” He says with a grin, easing the grip off your wrist, taking your hand now, you gasp, mouth open, unsure of what to say. “Cat got your tongue?”
“You’re… arrogant as fuck! Wow.” He laughs, deep and baritone, and fuck if he isn’t even more attractive as he does.
“And you’re clumsy as fuck.” You sigh, covering your face now.
“I’m so sorry… I am clumsy, ugh. Can I try to get the stain out, please, I feel awful.” He snorts in laughter, looking down at you, intense gaze seeing right through you somehow. His look follows down your body, your low cut little crop top that was nothing like you were usually in, your little skirt…
“Trying to get me naked, hmm?” You scowl as he grabs your waist, but then some sensation hits you… the warm grip and his big fucking hands burn as they touch your bare skin. You falter, in confusion, for you had not even had a drink yet to account for such things.
“I am not at all! I just feel bad. I…” You wouldn’t mind seeing him naked, but you shove that thought down deep in the recesses, clearing your throat with a little blush, for his hand is still on your waist.
“Your own outfit is stained, baby girl. Look.” You peek down and realize what he’d been staring at. “My shirt’s dark, it'll be fine. We need to get that cleaned up.”
“It's okay, it's silky, it should come off.” You now rub the stain on your chest, which he openly looks at, sipping his own drink.
“You look like you don’t belong here.” He gestured to the crowded, loud club, full of dancing bodies, pool tables with beer pong set up, there was even a drunken Giant Jenga game, loudly crashing blocks. You looked back up to him, lost in that gaze, it was as if his eyes held your attention there.
“I don’t belong here.” You managed to say, and he brushed a lock of your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. God, how did just those little actions turn you on so much? “I don’t go out to clubs, I don’t really even do shit but study. My friends over there…” You point them out. “They are making me try.”
He smirks as he looks over at them. “Well, shit, then you should give it a shot. Want me to grab you another drink?”
“Oh no, I owe you one if anything. Can I buy you one?” He shrugs casually, smirking a bit.
“I’m so pretty a girl is buying me drinks, hmm?” You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head.
“Just tell me what you like.”
“Something sweet.” He whispers, leaning over you a bit, behind you, chest against your back, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine, you wave back at the bartender, who takes pity on you.
“On the house, sweetheart.” He winks, and you blink in surprise.
“Oh thank you so much.” The bartender leans over a bit, smiling, and you feel this stranger next to you tense. “Can I also get a chocolatini?”
“Yummy.” He says next to you, and the bartender just looks at him, then eases back, smiling and handing it to you too.
“Thanks so much again.” You tip him big with a smile, then hand the white haired god next to you the little chocolate drink.
“Hmm, what is this?” He asks, icy blue eyes staring into the glass, stirring the chocolatey liquid around.
“It’s sweet. Try it.”
He takes a sip, licking his full lips, distracting you. “Mmm, this is perfect, shit.” He sips it, moaning and closing his eyes, and it pushes wild thoughts, addling your mind. “Okay, forgiven for the mess.”
“Good.” You start sipping your drink and sighing, letting the tart bite hit your tongue.
“Satoru, by the way.” He says, in that deep voice, a baritone that hit octaves that did wild things to your psyche. You look up at him, realizing just how close you are, feeling overheated. You tell him your name, softly, and he repeats it, sounding far too good on his lips.
“Well, it's nice to literally run into you, Satoru. I guess.”
“Usually I get girls wet, not the other way around.” He says audaciously, with a wink, you snort in laughter.
“You’re something else.” You say with an eye roll, then peek over to see Maki drunkenly making out in a corner, grinding her ass on Yuta as they dance. “Ah shit, I don’t think I’m gonna have my friends tonight. Third wheel life, but they’re my good friends who deal with me being antisocial.”
“You did seem pretty fucking awkward.” He says teasingly, nudging you with his shoulder.
“Dick.” You snort, sipping your drink, the music hits and it’s one of your favorite songs, but you’re too nervous to do anything, just standing there. You peek up at him in surprise. “You don’t have to hang out over here, I am sure your friends want to hang out with you.”
“Yeah… they’re all out of here at this point. I was heading out too, just closing up the tab when you ran into me.” You suddenly feel a weird sense of disappointment that should not exist.
“Oh…” You sip your drink again, hips ever so slightly swaying to the beat of the music, body starting to feel the warmth as the liquor slides through you. “Well it was nice meeting you though? And you got a chocolatini?”
“Yes, and it is yummy.” He stands there, and your eyes lock, something just pulling you towards the man too gorgeous to exist in this world, the conceited little shit who smelled really fucking good. You expect him to leave, but he just stands, sipping his drink, eyes lowering to your hips as they sway.
“How’d you end up here anyway?” You ask, leaning your head to the side, hair falling. He casually brushes it back, you struggle not to show how much you like it, casual fucking little caresses when you're touch starved as it is. But especially from him for some reason.
“I was just hanging out with my friends, Suguru and Kento. Just unwinding a bit, we get together once a month at some random place and get lit.” He sips more of his drink, somehow you’ve gotten closer.
“Oh, that sounds like fun though. I swear I don’t think I’ve been to a club? Is that really pathetic?”
“You’re kinda boring huh?”
“Maybe. I apparently need to let loose and have fun since I got my Bachelors degree.”
“It’s not the worst idea. You like this song don’t you?” He asks softly, and you feel your heart race, nervously trying to stop the swaying of your body to the beat. You nod, instead, and he takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.
“I… what are we…”
“Let’s dance. That'll loosen you up a bit.”
“I don’t know how to…” You say softly, confused, he laughs a bit, shaking his head and setting your empty drinks on the bar.
“Everyone can, just follow your body.” He's so confident and self assured.
Satoru is leading you to the dance floor, the music pounding in your ears along with your erratic heartbeat. He pulls you against him, his scent hits you, something intoxicating about it. He pauses for a moment, looking down at your face intently. Even in your heels you have to crank your neck back to look at him, intimidating in his presence.
“What do I… how do I do it?” You ask, he clears his throat, smirking again, turning you so your ass and back are against him, you gasp just a bit. His hands hit low on your hips, so warm through them, luoure hot and sticky between your thighs.
“Feel the beat of the song.” He murmurs in your ear, moving your hips in a figure eight motion with those big hands. Why were they so big? Fuck. “You’re too tense, close your eyes and just focus on the music and me.”
His words were a velvet caress, you’d do anything he asked when it sounded like that, it was pathetic almost. You close your eyes, and your other senses are heightened then, feeling his touch, hard body behind you, inch by inch, the fabric of his expensive clothes brushing on your bare skin.
“Like that?” You ask, moving your ass a bit side to side, he shakes his head, grabbing your hips, desire shoots through you.
“Nah, loosen up more. There, like that.”
You let your body sway with his, feeling the heat between your skin, the soft brush of his hips against yours, his hand sliding up your back, fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls you closer, and you gasp as his body pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a jolt of want.
His hips begin to move against yours, a slow, steady rhythm, and you lose yourself to the music and him, the way he holds you when you face him now, the way he feels, hard lithe body against yours. His hands move up and down your waist, his fingers digging into your skin ever so slightly, making you shiver, a crazy ache wracking through your body.
You tilt your chin up to look at him, arms around his neck, and find his ethereally gorgeous eyes locked onto yours, pupils dilated, making the blue rings of his eyes glow in the blinking lights of the dim club, and his full lips are parted. He's just dripping fucking sex, he’s way too attractive, it was difficult to keep moving and not just stand there and stare at him.
Satoru seems just as lost in this moment as you are, and it only makes you want him more… fuck you didn’t do this, you didn’t think of these things, you had too much to do, too much to focus on. But fuck… would it be the worst thing? To let yourself lose it in the moment, just go with it?
Were you looking too into it?
The music fades out in your head now, the thudding of your heart pounding in your ears, as you feel the way his hips still move against you, the way your hands grip his neck now, you both are just swaying. You’re on your tip toes in heels and nowhere near his height, and it makes you hornier, how fucking big he is, even his hands. He makes you horny, some random stranger you spilled a drink on in the club.
The air feels thick, almost heavy, and for a moment, hard to breathe as both of your eyes stay locked on each other, his hands slide down your hips, they’d been respectful, but they grow bolder. Every beat of the music vibrates through you, along with something maddening, you’re drawing closer and closer to him.
“How am I doing now?” You ask, breathless, he smirks, fucking hot and arrogant as fuck, drawing you in further.
“You’re not too bad.” He teases, you roll your eyes, easing back, but he grabs you to him, hands on your ass now, and you pause, as he grips it, an ass cheek in each of his big hands. “Now that… that’s fucking nice.”
“My ass?” You ask, laughing, he nods, grinning with those fangs of his glinting in the dark smoky room. “Handsy, huh?”
“Want me to stop?” He asks, and you shake your head, looking down a bit, he takes one of his hands, easing your chin up to look at him. Your pulse is hammering in your throat, as he bends lower, you stare at those lips, growing hot everywhere, breath in little pants.
“Oh! Oh…” Maki comes up behind you, and you pause, whirling your head to look at her, she has a big giant grin on her face. “Well, well, introduce me.”
“This is…”
“Satoru.” He smiles, nodding over to her, but he didn’t let you go, he didn’t even move the hand on your ass until you smack at his hand. He glares, as if you’ve taken a toy from him.
“Maki. I was gonna let you know I’m heading out soon, I figured you would wanna come with… or are you… hmm, hanging out more?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, you cover your face in embarrassment.
“I think he was leaving, weren’t you?” You look up at him, his grip tightens just a bit on your waist.
“I am leaving soon, yeah. Can she stay a little longer hmm?” He asks with puppy dog eyes, leaning on your shoulder. Maki rolls her eyes, nodding.
“I’ll give you all another twenty to… dance? I’ll find ya.” She kisses your cheek, and runs off, surely to tell Yuta. You peer back up at Satoru curiously. His gaze has gone from flirtatious to hungry.
“Did you wanna dance more?” You ask, and he laughs a bit.
“I’d like to eat you out.”
“Wha-?”
“Mmhmm.” He’s just standing there, after saying something so fucking wild, your brows dip low in confusion, and your pussy is wet as fuck.
Shit.
“I… huh?”
“I said I-”
You shut his mouth with your hand, yanking him down to do so, he’s so damn tall, and he’s laughing behind your palm. “I heard you! God…”
“You seem so tense.” He murmurs, easing your hand down, then he kisses it, but it’s not gentlemanly, it’s fucking devious, those eyes are insane. “And you’re crazy fucking hot.”
“Me? You… you are.”
“Aw you think I’m hot?” You sigh, looking down for a moment. “Time is ticking, we have less than twenty, and I like to take my time.”
“Jesus… you just wanna eat me out?”
“What, you haven’t done it?” You look away, clearing your throat, and anticipation is eating at you. “Oh fuck, you haven’t!”
“Shush. Why do you want to just do that?”
“It’s fun, duh.” He rolls his eyes at you, as if it were so simple. Your cunt throbs around nothing now, and you look at his lips.
“Don’t most men ask for a blow job?”
“Not men. Boys. I’m a man, baby girl.”
He practically purrs those words, and you’re getting even wetter. “We haven’t even kissed?”
He leans down, wrapping an arm around your hips, lifting you up, like you’re just some doll. Your breath comes out in a squeak, and his lips are pressed on yours now, your arms wrap around his neck, and he’s kissing you as your legs dangle. You open your mouth, moaning, as his tongue slides in, against your own, shooting desire down through you.
“Better?” He whispers, kissing you softer, little pops of kisses. You moan into his lips, tasting his minty breath, mixing with the sweet drink you’d made him.
“I don’t ever do this.” You breathe out. “I… fuck… okay?”
“Yeah?” You nod.
“Yeah.”
Satoru eases you down, and then you’re wildly following him through the throngs of dancers and clubgoers, until he’s knocking, and you all are slinking into the club’s rather fancy fucking bathroom. You contemplate your life in those moments, but when you’re in the bathroom and he’s shoved you against the door, kissing you again, you just go with it.
He feels so good.
“You’re a good kisser, fuck.” You murmur against his lips, he grins, and you realize you’re inflating his ego.
“Mmhmm, I am. I’m even better at this.” He drops to his knees, and your heart is in your throat, your eyes are wide as he’s lifting your skirt up, easing your panties down, smirking up at you.
“Mnh…” Is all that you manage, when he takes them fully off, putting one of your thighs on his shoulder, kissing the sensitive inner part of it. You brace yourself on his broad shoulders, entire body trembling. “Fuck…”
“Say my name, pretty. Satoru.” He orders, and you nod, then your hand gently goes through his hair, silky and perfect against your touch.
“Satoru… I… you sure?”
“If you want it.” You nod, maybe too eager, and his head dips, shoving your skirt up your hips, and he flicks his tongue up your slit. You cry out, trembling at the sensation, so fucking good your hips jerk. “You’re soaked…” He whispers, peeking up at you with those eyes.
You just nod again, you’re at a loss for words now, gulping, and he’s back down there, moaning against your clit, and you gasp as pleasure hits you hard, clenching in your tummy and spreading. His tongue is hot against you, pressure just perfect on your little clit, your hands enwrap further, gripping his hair, and he’s fucking moaning, vibrating on your cunt.
“Satoru…” You cry out, and you’re pulsing around nothing, wetness pouring out of you in spurts, he drinks you up, the sounds obscene in the little bathroom, the music and loud people fading further and further.
“You taste so good.” He murmurs as he pulls back a bit, you manage a mumbled thank you that he smiles at, his eyes are even brighter, a madness almost in them that surely matched your own. You caress his face, thumb rubbing on his lip, mixed with your cum and his saliva, and he moans then, yanking your hand down to your clit. “Feel how wet I’ve got you.”
“Fuck! Mnh…” You feel your slickness against your own fingers now, shaking as you hit your now swollen clit.
Satoru puts your hand back on his head, dipping back down, devouring you, and you hear how wet you are, hear him slurping you up, you’re falling apart, unraveling for this stranger. A guy you just met in a damn nightclub, what is wrong with you? But he’s giving you an unreal amount of pleasure, you’re pulsing now when he slides a long, thick finger in you.
Someone knocks.
You curse.
“Keep quiet, pretty, they’ll hear you.” He winks up at you, and you nod, holding a hand to your face, arching your hips up for more of his touch, his mouth, and he’s working your clit with his tongue as he’s massaging your g spot with his fingertip, it’s too much, too much.
“Mnh!” You struggle to hide your moans, more people are knocking, it’s banging against your back, and Satoru’s devouring you, every bit of your cunt, and you feel yourself start to shake, pleasure shooting through your entire body, your walls are tightening around those long fingers, stretching you out so deliciously. “Satoru… I… too much…”
“Shush.” He peers up at you, those gorgeous goddamn eyes, his eyes are heavy lidded with desire, his face is half covered in your slickness, glistening. “Cum on my face, let me drink you up.” His voice is deep, hoarse, and you start falling apart on his fingers, he grins, devious. “That’s it. Cum for me, pretty.”
He’s back down there, and his finger hits just so, his tongue flicking faster and faster on your aching clit, and you slam both hands on your mouth as he holds your hips up, burying his face. You fall apart, cumming so hard you can’t even see, it’s all blackness, your ears are buzzing, your body is shaking. You reach down blindly, to balance on his shoulders, and he’s drinking it up.
He’s drinking you.
Fuck.
His tongue flicks a couple more times, as more people bang on the door you rested back on, and he pulls back finally, grinning up at you, having just wrecked you completely. You can’t breathe, you can’t stand, he’d just casually given you the best orgasm of your life, and not even known you, not even known your body…
“Fuck.” You manage, and he stands then, kissing you, bending low, cupping your face with those big hands.
“See how good you taste?” He murmurs, flicking his tongue on your lips, all you can do is moan. He laughs a bit at you. “Those eyes after cumming… yep… that’s the hottest shit I’ve seen.”
“My eyes? Have you seen…”
Someone opens the door then, and you curse, yanking your skirt down, Satoru just casually leans over to look, scowling. “Excuse me, I’m busy.”
“Oh shit, sorry…” The drunken guy who’d broken in stumbles back, and then you hear him throwing up.
Satoru rolls his eyes, and then you both leave, you absentmindedly notice your panties are in the bathroom, up on the damn counter, and run embarrassingly back in to snatch them up. You run back out, trying to see where he went off to, but it’s a chaotic mess, everyone is going this way and that, and before you know it, you can’t even see him, so short compared to all of the people.
Maki comes and grabs your hand, and you follow her, searching for him, where could a tall man with white hair hide anyway?
“What’d you do, oh my god!” She turns you to her, you errantly notice everyone around you getting rowdier, there are crazy fights even breaking out. “You got freaky in the club bathroom didn’t you?”
“Oh god, Maki, shh!” Your skin is bright red now, she’s grinning like a crazy woman.
“He was hot! Get his number?”
“No and… I don’t see him, shit.” You’re trying to look around, Maki does too, but no sign of him. You all look for another five minutes, as things are getting rowdy with a couple of the club goers, fighting over some girl. You both sigh. “Dammit, I really… I think I like him, Maki, and he’s gone. Ugh.”
“It’s okay, love, you’ll run into him again.” She squeezes your hand, and your mind goes to him, to Satoru, who has brought you so much pleasure so quickly. “Ooh, look him up!”
“Is that… stalker ish? I only have his first name…”
“Nah. He seemed interested. Let’s get us home and then we’ll see if he has socials or anything, we’ll find him.”
You sit in the back of the car with Maki and Yuta, who are just making out the entire time, staring out the car window at the street lights that pass. You can’t shake the thoughts of him, of Satoru… you pick up your phone, typing his name in Facebook, nothing. Instagram, nothing. Tiktok? You doubt it, but you try… and, nothing.
Without a last name you were screwed, but there weren’t even any ‘Satoru’ profiles that you could find. Cursing internally, you lay your head back in frustration. You didn’t even tell him you liked him, you just… came on his fucking face? An arrogant, gorgeous man’s pretty face. His tongue had done things that had…
Shit.
Two months later, you found yourself sitting in the lecture hall at the beginning of law school, your heart racing with excitement and anticipation for the journey ahead. You take out your little laptop, hands sweaty and nervous, wishing Maki and Yuta were in this class with you. You were in an advanced program, having scored so high, so you were thrown in with more experienced students.
You also had a big chance at the coveted internship with the top law professor, who taught this very class. You peek at your syllabus, this is supposed to be the top young professor that everyone kept going on about, his name was Professor Gojo. You open up your laptop now, popping open the note taking app on there, when a chatter begins.
As the professor walked in, you barely looked up at first, seeing a tall, lithe body in a pinstripe suit. You look back down, turning off your phone to be safe, hearing the women in the class murmuring.
“He’s so hot!” They kept whispering, you peek around curiously, then look back up to him, seeing a shock of silvery white hair.
Your heart falters.
As he began to introduce himself, writing his name on the board, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him - Satoru.
The man that had made you cum with his mouth.
He was your fucking law professor?
Shit.
As Satoru- or, Professor Gojo apparently, spoke, his eyes met yours, that piercing blue across the room, almost as if he was looking through you. He pauses for a moment, full lips opening then closing, before clearing his throat, putting back on a smirk and an air of arrogance.
“Professor Gojo, welcome to Criminal Law. I assume there are mostly second years. Any first semester students?” You and two others are the only ones that raise your hands. “Interesting. Your name?” He asks the girl to the right of you.
“Yuki.” She answers softly.
“And yours?” He asks the other guy to the left of her, hands in the pockets of his slacks as he saunters across the room, like he fucking owns it, commanding the attention of everyone. The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop.
“Ijichi.” He says.
Professor Gojo looks at you, and your pulse hammers in your throat, like it’s about to explode. You cannot breathe as his blue eyes laser focus on you, those frosty white lashes framing them, you remember him staring up at you, between your thighs, on his fucking knees.
“And you, your name?” You quietly give him your name, and he smirks at you, upturn to those devious fucking lips. You try not to wriggle under his gaze, tilting your chin up instead. “Ah. All right, so tell me why you’re here today.”
“To attend class?” The class laughs a bit, Gojo just grins, shaking his head at you.
“No, why are you here?”
“To become a lawyer.” You answer, firmer, as he walks up towards you now, stepping up the stairs of the large class and leaning on your desk with one of his long arms, big hand clutching the wood. Hands you can’t help but fucking stare at.
“Aren’t they all? But why did you choose to be?” He asks, leaning forward just a bit. You take a shaky breath, then look directly into that bright blue gaze of his, licking your lower lip, his eyes drop right to the action.
“I wanted to make a difference in people's lives. I want to give voices to those that may not have one.” You murmur, and he exhales, smirk back on, nodding.
“We all start for that, surely. Don’t we?” He asks the class, they nod, attentive to every word of his. He turns, walking back down the stairs and starting to write on the board.
Your heart pounds against your ribs, a flush creeping up your neck as you think of that night, burned into your goddamn brain for months. You were the one making those sounds, those moans, as he drank you up, you remember the taste of him, the feel of his tongue on your sensitive skin.
Your fingers itch to touch yourself, to remember how good it felt, and you burn with shame and embarrassment. The amount of times you had played with yourself thinking of him was borderline pathetic, and now here he was, mysterious little shit, and unattainable.
Fuck.
“Don't worry, we'll get along just fine, I’m pretty relaxed mostly. You could say I have the ‘rizz’.” He winks, and everyone snorts in laughter, but you can’t even focus. “I was where you were just a few years back. So it’s doable to advance if you bust your ass. Understood?”
They all nod, enraptured by him. Who wouldn’t be.
“But first, a few rules before we begin. One, you will address me as Professor Gojo, or Gojo, not my first name. I am very friendly and accessible as a teacher but that’s one thing I do ask.”
Satoru. Satoru… you’d fucking cried out. Jesus.
“Two, you will be respectful of your classmates and their opinions, and hear them out, even if the opinions are shit.” They break out in laughter again. “Shit opinions can be shit on later. Let em finish the dumb thoughts first, so I can fix them.”
They’re all nodding, they women are all swooning, he commands the entire goddamn room.
“Three, there will be no cell phone use during class unless it’s something important, which you can step out for. You spend enough time on your Instagram and Snap at home, not here. Using your laptop is fine for notes, not tentacle porn hentai, heathens.”
They burst out laughing now, and even you giggle, bringing his eyes to lock upon you, drinking you in.
“Do you understand these rules, class?"
When he pauses, your gaze meets his again, and you feel like you're drowning in those blue eyes. Does he remember you even? Did he care? A man that looks like him surely has numbers in the stratosphere, and he hadn’t bothered to get your number. Had he dipped all together?
Did he even like it?
Fuck.
You swallow hard, trying to find your voice amidst the chaos in your head. You manage to croak out a "Yes, Professor Gojo," with the class before looking down at your desk.
“Perfect. All right, so… Yuki, was it?” The girl nods eagerly. “Now, let's say that a student in this class was to break into my office and steal an exam. What would the possible criminal charges be?"
"Well, Professor Gojo, the student could be charged with burglary, as they entered the office without permission. Additionally, depending on the value of the exam, it could also be considered academic fraud punishable by law."
He nods. “Well said. Now… you.” He says your name, and you sit up straight, panicking, you can't help but notice the way he's looking at you. There's an intensity to his gaze that makes your heart race.
“Yes, Professor Gojo?”
He pauses, fixing you with his piercing blue eyes. "A similar scenario, but change it up. Let’s say you have invited me to your apartment, to stay the night, because I’m so charming.” He winks at the class, who are in a fit of giggles, and peers back at you. “You faint, because I was just that good looking, an understandable response.” He’s walking up to you. You raise a brow.
“I have a stronger constitution than that, Professor Gojo.” The class now gasps, some giggling at your answer. He grins, those white teeth blinding, fangs like a damn vampire showing.
“I see, impressive. But, nevertheless, you’re asleep, and you have invited me to stay the night. What if I steal an item of yours?”
The room goes silent as his words sink in. You feel your heart racing, your palms sweating. You try to gather your thoughts, but you can't help but feel unsettled by his line of questioning, of the images he’s painting in your overheated mind. Him in your damn apartment, between your…
"Well?" He prompts, leaning forward slightly. "What would you think is the appropriate course of action in such a scenario? Seeing as you have trusted me, a very handsome stranger, put yourself in the situation. With no proof."
You swallow hard, feeling a knot forming in your throat, it's as if he knows exactly how to push your buttons, to make you feel vulnerable and exposed. You try to compose yourself, to remember what you know, but you can't help but feel like you're drowning in the intensity of his presence, hard to breathe even.
"In that situation, Professor Gojo, I believe that the law would still consider it theft, even if you had a personal connection to me. The item would still belong to me, and taking it without my permission would be a violation of my rights." You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing. "However, I also think that the court might take into account the nature of our relationship and any possible mitigating factors, such as your intentions or remorse."
His eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think you see a glint of amusement in them. "An interesting answer," he says, "But remember, the law is not always concerned with intentions or mitigating factors. It is often a cold, impersonal thing, meant to uphold the greater good."
“That can be true, though without proof of having something I also think you would possibly get away with it. I haven’t itemized and taken pictures of everything in my home, so it could be hearsay.” He nods approvingly at that, grinning.
"That’s correct. Fortunately, however, I don't intend to break into your home anytime soon, so you won’t be fainting. From me at least.” The class laughs a bit at his joke, and you can feel your cheeks flush.
“You can break into my house!” Comes a shout from the back, and Gojo throws his head back in laughter, heading back down the stairs, along with the class.
“Calm down, heathens. Now listen, itemizing things or taking pictures is a good idea. So that when you invite handsome strangers you at least have something to go on. So, you all want to be lawyers, to help others, correct?”
Everyone nods.
“You could say that I was drawn to it for similar reasons to all of you.” He sits in his large office chair, tall brown leather, leaning back casually, throwing his legs up on the large desk. “Personally, I found the intricacies of the law fascinating, and I wanted to make a difference in people's lives too. Like you.” He nods to you, and you want to fall into a goddamn hole.
“But I also saw the potential for it to be used as a tool for justice, or perhaps even revenge in some cases, you can be a regular vigilante batman." His voice drops, taking on a more serious tone, intriguing you now, as did his every movement. "As your professor, my goal is to help you navigate these complexities and find your own path within the legal system. Whether that path leads you to is all up to you."
The classroom feels heavy with his words. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you yet again, and you feel as if he's not just talking about your future as a lawyer anymore. There's an intensity to this moment that you can't quite explain, and it leaves you feeling both exposed and strangely alive, every sense thrumming, including unfortunately your cunt.
Cunt he’d licked.
Fucking kill me.
When he licks his lips, you’re wrecked, how you’d focus at all today would be some sort of miracle.
The time passes quickly, and before you know it, the bell rings signifying the end of class. He is electrifying and intriguing as a teacher just as much as he was at the bar, the random dude that kissed you, that danced with you… was your first…
You gather your belongings, slowly making your way towards the exit. You feel a gentle yet insistent tap on your shoulder. You freeze, and turn around, finding yourself face-to-face with Professor Gojo, or Satoru? What would you call him in your head, and what did it matter. Your throat goes dry.
"Professor Gojo?" You say, a little taken aback, the class is filing out, leaving just the two of you in the huge lecture hall.
"Can you stay after for a moment?" He asks, and you gulp, desire shooting through you mixed with apprehension. You nod, feeling a sudden urge to run your hands through your hair or fiddle with something to steady your nerves.
“Sure.”
“Have a seat.” He says softly, going to shut the door with a click that echoes in the room, you feel like some high schooler about to get punished, but instead of worrying you the very thought thrills you far more than it should.
Stop thinking like that.
"What the fuck, Satoru?” You stand still as he comes walking back to you in long strides. You fold your arms in front of your chest, scowling up at the tall gorgeous man. “What even happened…"
"Shh." He covers your mouth with fingertip, then his thumb is tracing your bottom lip, want shoots through you hot, tummy clenching hard as he looms over you. "You're in my class now, and I need you to focus.”
“Fucking focus? On what? It’s goddamn near impossible.” You smack his hand off of you, glaring.
“I said. Have. A. Seat.” He whispers, commandingly, and for some fucking reason you listen, sitting down in his giant leather seat, as he sits up on the desk, casually crossing his stupidly long legs. “That’s better, pretty.”
“Do not even call me that.” You hiss, and he chuckles at you, rolling his eyes, shaking his head.
“Why are you mad at me when you just disappeared that night?” His thin white brows go low over his eyes, and you blink in confusion, frowning.
“Me? No, you. What six foot whatever-”
“Six-Four.”
Fuck that’s tall. “What Six-foot-four white haired dude just disappears in a crowd? Clearly you left. And if you didn’t like what we did, you could have just let me know and stopped! I-”
He’s standing in front of you now, arm on either side of you, glaring deeply into your eyes. You’re panting, he’s so fucking close… “You think I didn’t like eating your pussy?”
You’re dead silent, all the drive and determination has left you, nothing at all is there but an insane desire for it again. The memories wash over you. You manage a little nod, and he laughs at you, throwing his head back, before looking back over you, menacingly almost.
“You’re not as smart as I thought. Guess what…” He’s bent over completely, overtaking your senses. “I loved eating your little pussy. I can’t get the taste out of my goddamn mind.” You freeze, breathing in little pants, suddenly that blazer you wore to look professional feels too tight, suffocating.
“Why’d you disappear then?” You manage to choke out a whisper.
“I got a call from my friend, and I answered it for a moment when you ran into the bathroom again. I came back and looked everywhere, you were completely gone. I was going to…” He trails off, shaking his head and smirking again. “Never mind. So you thought I dipped. Aw, did it make you sad, poor little girl?” He caresses your face, you grit your teeth.
“Nope. Not at all.” You lie. He frowns, narrowing those obscenely beautiful blue eyes at you. “Just found it rude.”
“Are you sure you haven’t played with that tight cunt thinking of me?” He leans over, whispering, and you throb around goddamn nothing. You shake your heat, jaw clenched so hard it ached. He grins. “Liar.”
“Sue me.” You say with a raised brow, his grin just grows bigger.
“Smart ass little bitch.”
“Don’t call me that, asshole.”
“Don’t call your professor that.”
“Don’t look at your student like that.”
He raises a brow, eyeing your chest, where your nipples are hard against the lace of your bra. “Wear something where I can’t see those nipples perk up. Hmm, I didn’t see these, did I?” His hands brush down the side of your breasts, over your blazer, your blouse…
“And you won’t ever see them.” You shove at his chest, standing, and he grabs your wrists, tightly.
“You’d die for me too, wouldn’t you? Bet it was all you thought about as I did my lecture, me sucking on them. Poor little brat.” He yanks you against him, and you melt unwillingly.
“Nope, I sure the fuck wasn't. You act as if it was so monumental.” You roll your eyes, but you’re full of shit.
“Yeah fucking right, you’ve never cum like that, have you?” You scowl, you want to lie, but you just can’t manage it. His devious shithead grin is in full force. “I Knew it, you fell apart so easily.”
“What’s that even matter? And what do you want, Professor Dickhead.”
"You're a good student with insane test scores," he says, his voice low and serious. "But I need to make something clear. What happened between us will not interfere with your education. I won’t go any easier on you, I’ll push you just the same if not more."
“As if I’d want you to? Like I knew you’re a fucking professor. You seem like a whole idiot.”
He scowls now at you as well, you yank out of his grip, backing up until your ass is against his desk, and he’s barring you between his arms. “I didn’t know you were a fucking law student either. You don’t seem the type.” His eyes go up and down your body slowly.
“Fuck you. Professor Gojo. Respectfully.” You shove at him, feeling his hard chest under your hands, you falter.
“Fuck me, hmm? Baby girl, you can’t, you’re my student.”
“I’m sure the fuck not your ‘baby girl’. Who even eats out some random girl at a club anyway!”
He raises a brow, looking up and down your body, undressing you with his stupidly pretty gaze. “Who gets eaten out by a random guy at the club?”
“Ugh!” You shove at him again, he doesn’t budge, your eyes lock onto his and you suppress every base instinct to just kiss his glossy lips. “Fuck you.”
“You like to proposition me. How inappropriate, Miss Brat.”
“I have a name!”
“Miss Brat works better. Fits you more.”
“Professor Dickhead fits you!” He laughs at that, and shakes his head, caressing your face gently, and you freeze. He grows serious.
“I won’t push shit on you. I’m not trying to lose my job, or fuck up your law career, so you don’t really have to worry.” He bends low, a breath away from your lips now, and you tremble, eyes zooming in on them, remembering their taste. “Question is, can you focus when you’re dripping wet looking at me?”
“Oh you conceited fucking dick!” You haul off and smack him then, he grins, deviously, like he enjoyed it, a little red mark on his perfect face.
“Maybe play with your pussy before you come into class, get it all out of your system so you can focus.”
“I can’t fucking stand you! I can’t believe I even… that I…” You feel emotion catch in your throat, blinking it back rapidly, wanting to sob, as you thought you’d felt something, that you liked him.
He pouts a bit, watching you intently, tilting his head and brushing your hair back gently with his fingers. You hate how much you like it. He studies you carefully with those baby blues that you’d dreamt of, a serious look to his handsome face, a jawline you wanted to caress and punch simultaneously.
“That you what?” He whispers, and you shake your head.
“Nothing. I need to get to my next class. Please, move. I promise I won’t be pining away from you or some shit.” He clears his throat, easing back, hands in his pockets again.
“Good, that would be bad for both of us.” He mused, acting so casual, so nonchalant that it infuriated you.
“I imagine shit like that is common for you, right?”
“Eating out stupidly hot girls?” You shrug at that, refusing to acknowledge how that made you feel.. “It’s a favorite pastime of mine.”
“Yeah, that tracks.” You turn, grabbing your books, ass pressing against his hard body, and it makes you throb, thinking of that dance with him.
Something far too big and hard is against your ass, making you both tense. You bend over, feeling like torturing this asshole back just a bit, before standing back up, slowly turning and looking up at him. You smile a bit when you see his flustered look, breaking down the usual cockiness you have seen from him.
“Cat got your tongue, Professor?” You whisper, hugging the books to your chest tightly, he exhales, opening his mouth, and the bell rings again.
“Fuck.” He whispers, backing up just a moment and running his hand through his silky white hair.
“See you in class next week.” You say, and he pauses you again, making you scowl this time. “What are you playing at?”
“I didn’t disappear. I wanted your number or… something.” He mumbles, and you blink in surprise, your heart fluttering. “None of that matters now, anyway, we can’t… do anything. So.”
“Nope, we can’t.” You turn, walking, hearing him sigh.
“Whose class do you have, Miss Brat?” He asks, haughty, you glare at him over your shoulder. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s making things hard.”
“Don’t call me that, Professor Dickhead.” He snorts, you peek down at your schedule then. “It’s Contracts with Professor Nanami. Then after that, Torts with Professor Geto.”
“Fuck you’ve even got my best friends as your other teachers.”
“I really need to go. Just… forget it happened I guess?” Your heart aches as you say it, but what choice do you have? He frowns.
“That’s not happening and you know it. Just get a good vibrator and think of me, it should work. I could give you my business cards to get off to? My picture is pretty.” You flip him off, ignoring his laughter as you walk out of the room.
You struggle to breathe, leaning back against the cold wall of the hallway, wishing it would soothe your overheating skin. The man that you’d been thinking of for two months straight was your goddamn professor, not just that, he was the one that had the top internship opportunity.. You can still taste his lips on yours, taste yourself as he had kissed you…
It only makes it worse.
You walk quickly across campus until you get into Contracts, your cheeks burning from the memory of his hardness against you, and the anger from the way he acted, so fucking conceited, so immature. How the fuck was he the best lawyer for his age? You’d heard so much about him and never knew it was him…
Professor Nanami was ridiculously tall and handsome as well, dirty blonde hair and a tan suit over his buff body. You wonder just what the fuck this school is thinking, hiring all these models as professors, but he had no effect on you like he did the rest of the class. Luckily, he seemed humble, serious, more like what you would expect, but of course…
Your mind was wrapped around Professor Dickhead.
Just what would this semester be like?
And why do you ache so goddamn bad.
Forget him… forget it…
How?
You’re screwed.
Chapter 2
Also on a03 - Ch 1 https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/144669811
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#fanfic#anime and manga#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x reader#smut#satoru gojo#satoru x reader#satoru x you#jujutsu satoru
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In all honesty, I'm such a fan of the bakugo x aizawas daughter!reader series (if i can all it that)
I'm in NEED of new oneshots basically anything will do
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AHH PLEASE TYSM @kitthefanfickat FOR REQUESTING THIS I LITERALLY LOVE ANY EXCUSE TO WRITE DADZAWA <33
Pt. 3 to loud blonde <3 (as for all of them could be read on its own as a standalone one shot.)
Pt. 1, pt. 2
Summery: y/n starts feeling really left out of her father's life, and her loud blonde boyfriend is there to comfort her and fix the pieces of her that have broken.
Warnings: swearing, angst, mommy issues!! Mentions of mental abuse snd neglect,
You loved your father, and you knew how much he did for you. But sometimes you couldn't help but feel left out of his life. Recently he's started spending the little free time he has training a kid in your general studies class.
Hitoshi Shinsou, you've talked to him on more than one occasion. You and him have a very similar personality, and in reality he kind of reminds you of your father. Which is why it makes sense that he took a liking to the kid. But fuck did you feel like shit.
You knew that your father loved you too, and that there wasn't anything that he wouldn't do for you. But you still, couldn't help but feel left out of his world. The world of being a hero, you suppose.
You've never once regretted your decision to not become a hero like your father. Maybe it was from your mother drilling it into your head as a child that hero's are bad, and you should never want to be one.
For the first 5 years of your life you were raised by a mother who simply did not care about you. Maybe she saw to much of your father in you to ever truly love you. She had left your father before you were born, as a child you fantasized about him coming to save you and take you away from your mother. But even as a child, you knew the chances were unlikely as the chances he knew you existed were very slim. Your mother would tell you that, all the time. She would constantly remind you that no one loved you, and nobody was coming to save you.
For a long time you couldn't come to terms with the truth that your mom was an awful person. You wanted to hate her but she was still your mother. No matter how much she neglected and manipulated you.
The day of your 5th birthday, your mother finally snapped. She hadn't been taking care of you in months, you were practically skin and bones. Your hair was in one huge mat.
As a child, most kids were excited for their birthdays. Not you, your birthday just reminded your mother more of 'mistake' she made by not getting rid of you. You woke up and made your way to the kitchen in hopes she would have made herself breakfast and you could steal whatever scraps ended up left.
You were lucky that morning that she did. Or so you thought, she had went to the couch to watch her show while she ate. And you saw this as the perfect opportunity to eat a little bit of the food she had left over, even if you couldn't have much it was better than nothing.
You quietly dragged a chair over to the stove and picked at the extra eggs and bacon lying in a pan. You thought your mother had been preoccupied, but she must have forgotten something, you didn't really know.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" She screamed some how louder than she ever has at you before. You immediately burst into tears stuttering an apology over and over again.
"I was just so hungry mommy I'm so sorry- I- I won't do it again-" She looked at you with burning hatred as you begged for her forgiveness. You didn't understand what you had done to deserve this.
"Get the fuck out of my house." You sob even harder at this. You were just a kid where were you supposed to go.
"Mommy please-" you beg, you don't want to get kicked out. You just wanted her to love you.
"Get out. Now." She was unnaturally calm while saying this. You kept sobbing and sobbing as you stood on your tippy toes to reach the door handle. Suddenly you were no longer in that house, and surrounded by a cold uncaring world.
You don't know how, but you managed to make it to a police station. You knew that these people would help you. You just wanted to be saved, like the people your father helped. Why couldn't he help you.
You push the large doors open, not without struggle though. You see a pretty woman sitting at a desk in front of you with a kind smile.
"Hi honey, where are your parents?" Her comment makes the tears that had previously stopped come back even harder. No body had ever been that gentle with you.
"M-mommy kicked me out-" You sob and hiccup throughout the sentence and the lady gives you a look of pity. She quickly gets up from her desk and wraps you in her warm arms.
"You're safe now sweetie, you're safe." You shove your face into her chest and sob harder. Never having felt such loving touch. "Can you come with me honey? We just need to ask you some questions so we can figure out how to help you."
You look up at her and give her a small nod. You're brought back into an interrogation room, but the kind lady never leaves your side. She sits in the chair next to you asking if you need anything. She offers you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"don't know what that is.." It's hard for you to admit, you really didn't know what anything was. It was a miracle that you had learned how to talk at all.
"It's a very yummy food, and it'll help you feel better." She adds the second part after heading your stomach grumble. You not giving her approval, "I'll be right back honey." She says this as she walks out of the door leaving you alone.
You pull your knees to your chest. You were so scared, you just wanted your mom to love you.
You wake up from the nightmare, if you could even really call it that. It was nothing but the truth, the harsh reality you had to face that your mom had abandoned you.
You hazily make you way out of bed, tears gently falling from your eyes. You make your way straight to your father's bedroom, it's a Saturday so he should still be in bed asleep. But he's not and an overwhelming panic sets onto you. You go and search the rest of the house hoping that he just woke up early today.
As you're searching you find a letter on the kitchen counter, and it reads
'Hi hun,
Left to do some training with Shinsou, I'm not sure when I'll be home. But if you want me to pick up food or anything on the way home just text me. Have a great day.
Love, Dad'
The letter only manages to make you sob harder. You just wanted your father, and he was just with another kid. With this thought, you started to spiral. With the thoughts that your father's going to leave you, just like your mother did. Maybe you should have become a hero, maybe he'd like you better. You start thinking of all the things you could've done wrong, all the things that could make him hate you like she did.
Eventually you start to recognize that you are not in the state of mind to be alone. But texting your father asking him to come home now seems like the scariest thing ever. So you settle on the next best person.
As soon as you had just simply said please he knew something was wrong. You never invited him over without telling your father. You respected your father to much for that.
As to his promise, Katsuki arrived 15 minutes later. He pounded on the door until you opened it; you weren't sure if it was because he was worried, or this was something he would always do if you didn't wait outside for him. But today you simply didn't have the energy.
You walk over the door quietly unlocking it before sitting back on the couch. Your boyfriend obviously hears you unlock it cause he's bursting through the door a second later. He scans the room looking for you and as his eyes land on your disheveled body, with tears still running down your face.
He gently wraps you in his arms, holding you as close as he can. "Talk to me doll what's goin on?" He just wants to know how to help you. The softness in his voice seems to only make you sob harder.
"He- he's gonna leave me- he's gonna leave- I'm not good enough he's gonna leave-" This only left Katsuki with more questions. Who was 'he'? It couldn't be your father would it? What would he have done to make you feel like this, Katsuki thinks he may kill your father if it was him.
"Who baby? I need to know so I can help you, I just want to help you." He gently rubs your back, the soothing motion help you to start sobbing a little less. But in the moment Katsuki thinks that any progress is good progress.
"My- my dad- he's gonna- he's gonna leave me just like she did-" Katsuki's suspicions are confirmed with this. It was about your father, and he could only assume the she was your mother. He knew a little bit of what had happened. He knew that you didn't have contact with your mother, but that was pretty much the extent to what you had told him. He really didn't know what to do, so he texted the one person who might.
"You good sensei? You look even more miserable than normal." Shinsou and Aizawa have always had a sort of playful banter while sparring. And even though they're on a water break they normally keep it going. And when Shinsou noticed that Aizawa was staring at his phone with his brows creased, of course he was gonna do some teasing.
"Sorry to call it quits early, but I have to go kid. Something's going on with my daughter." Aizawa is really panicking internally, wondering what he could have done to upset you. He doesn't know, he thought you had been fine. But obviously not.
"Oh you're all good, I didn't know you had a daughter Sensei." Shinsou was a little taken aback by that comment. Never having heard about this mysterious girl.
"Yeah.. have a good day Shinsou I'll see you Monday morning before classes."
"Alright see you then sensei, thank you." And with that Aizawa gets in his car has fast as he can. Thoughts racing, he just wants to know what's wrong with his daughter. What he did, so he can fix it.
He doesn't want you to feel like he's going to leave you like your mother did. He never would. He definitely speeds a bit on the way back to your guys apartment but honestly, he doesn't care. He just wants to hold his daughter and tell her that everything will be okay.
He quickly arrives at your guys apartment, due to the fact that it's not very far U.A. He rushes up the stairs to get to get to your apartment.
As he opens the door, he's greeted with the sight of you sobbing into Bakugou's chest. The boy looks up at him with a puzzled look on his face. This tells Shouta that he's made no progress figuring out what sparked this.
Quickly he makes his way to you and picks you up out of Bakugou's lap. The boy goes to resist it but he just sends a glare at him and the boy takes the hint. Allowing him to carefully cradle you to his chest, the way he would when you were upset as a child. This action causes you to only sob harder.
"I'm not leaving hun, I'm not going anywhere's. I'm not leaving." He just keeps repeating that he's not leaving you. And this manages to get you calm enough to form semi coherent sentences.
"Msorry- I was just being dramatic- I'm sorry-" you mumble this out with your face shoved into his chest.
"Honey, if you're this upset it's not dramatic I promise. I need you to tell me what's wrong hun, please. Let me fix this." With a sigh he holds you closer, he just wants to make you feel better.
"I just- I had a dream- more a nightmare I guess- of um- the day my mom you know- kicked me out- and then you weren't here.. and you've been spending so much time out of the house. And I know your training Shinsou and he's a nice kid and would make a good hero- but I don't know- I feel like he's taken up the little bit of time that we would spend together- it's stupid but part of me thinks you like him better because he wants to become a hero and I don't.." Once it starts to come out you just couldn't stop. You had told him everything you had been feeling. He looks at you with a look that makes it impossible to tell how he feels.
"I'm so sorry, kid. I should've thought about you would feel about this, but I need you to know nothing you could do could ever make me love you less, or love someone else more. I need you to know that I'm not going to leave you, not ever. I will not abandon you like she did. I promise I'll make extra effort to hang out with you, I'll call out of patrol tonight. Me and you, as well as Bakugou if you would like, can all hang out and have a movie night. Or whatever you want to do, anything to make you feel better. I'm so sorry." You start to cry again, but this time more of relief than anything. You had finally gotten the reassurance from him that you needed.
"Also hun, I don't care about you not becoming a hero, all I want is for you to be happy and do something you love. And I know analysis is that thing."
"Thank you dad.. but you um- you don't have to call out tonight I'll be fine."
"Nah it's alright, I'll just get Hizashi to cover and he'll do it no complaints." This causes you to giggle, you truly do love your father and Hizashi's relationship.
"I love you dad." You say this with a smile on your face looking up at him.
"I love you too kid."
The two of you sit in silence for a while before you're the one who breaks it. "I think that I want to try and contact her.." You whisper this not knowing how your father will feel about this.
"If you think that's what you need to do, then I'll support you 100%." The reassurance that he's not upset at the idea is comforting.
You notice that at some point your boyfriend had left. You figured that he just went outside, to the benches at the front of the building. Because you know that Katsuki would never leave you with out saying bye.
You spend the rest of the night sitting between your two favorite people feeling more content than you had in a while. And even though there was anxiety about trying to talk to your mother, you know that they would get you through it. And that was all the comfort you needed.
Okay so I definitely meant to finish my Shinsou x reader one shot before I finished this, but I got a little carried away when I started- soooo! Anyways I hope you enjoy! Happy reading <3
#mha x reader#shinsou x reader#aizawa shouta#aizawa x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha aizawa#bnha x reader#aizawa x daughter!reader#bnha shouta aizawa#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa shota x reader#mha aizawa#aizawa x y/n#aizawa x you#aizawa shota x you#aizawa sensei#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugou x you#bnha bakugo x reader#bakugo katuski#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugou x y/n#bakugou fluff#bnha shinso hitoshi#mha hitoshi#hitoshi shinsou
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Change My Mind [7]
Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.
Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor
Words: 8.6k
IM BACK
laptop problem is solved. Shit was shady though (i literally have to pay the guy money for his 'efforts' in lying to get my laptop fixed) but its worth the money so idc. Rushed to finish this so this shit ain't beta read nor proofed, that's for Vuinterro of tomorrow to stress about. Will still take long to post chapters, might take a month per chapter. It really depends since I'm using this fic to fix my horrid writer's block and brain fog but I plan to see this fic through so dwww
also, what do you all think about having purely the boys' pov at some point in the story? Been thinking about having the boys' perspectives once the courting starts but that's prolly just me
lastly, enjoy this chapter. I hope my tired mind was able to write my vision down clearly, I'll fix the mistakes and add more details later on. Pls comment or like, I'm in desperate need for validation lmao
<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>
______
Jung Hoseok is not scared.
Sure he screams bloody mary at the sight of bugs a thousand times smaller than him, and yeah he’s easily startled but he’s not scared.
Especially not by a piece of paper, that would be ridiculous!
The reason he went to his noona’s house instead of heading straight to the dorms after the news broke out that his Seokjin hyung is tethered to you is because she needed his help on something, and being the dutiful brother he is, swooped in to save the day!
“At least wash the dishes for me if you’re going to hide in my house because you’re being a scaredy cat,” Jiwoo says from the kitchen archway, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. “I still don’t get why you’re so scared of a piece of paper. The most it’ll do is give you a small cut.”
“Well, that ‘small cut’ still stings a lot!” He argued back, pulling the throw pillow closer to his chest. “And I’m not scared!”
It was irrational how he’s getting cold feet at the thought of the blood result. It’s not like he was hoping to see anything other than ‘negative’ there.
Jimin would argue that he’s being pessimistic for thinking so but it was the obvious answer if you looked at his family tree.
From his grandparents’ parents and down to him and his sister, there hasn’t been a single tethered from his bloodline like most of the world’s population. Unlike his Jin hyung who at least had one distant cousin who got a soulmate or his Yoongi hyung who at least had his grandparents as soulmates, his family was barren from such a blessing. His grandpa had joked once, saying their family was cursed for never birthing a single tethered. Ever.
Not even with the people they ended up had ever resulted in having a tethered no matter their family background..
For him to turn out to be a part of your nexus would be a miracle of the highest degree that would make the tales in the bible pale in comparison.
Daring to have himself tested is stupid, he already knew the result and submitting his DNA meant he was hoping.
But hope is nothing in the face of facts, he should be wishing instead; prayer sticks, shaman blessings and all that.
Hoseok knew he was being greedy, wishing to be a part of a nexus relationship as crowded as yours. Growing up with the rest, he knew how much of a handful Jungkook can be on his own, matched with Jimin who now possesses bottomless energy, he has no business trying to squeeze himself in places he can’t fit in.
Sometimes he thinks he’s being influenced by the fact that he’s being singled out in the group. Now that their oldest has joined the harem, being the odd one out oddly felt ostracizing, being subjected to Taehyung and Jungkook discussing courting gifts, and Yoongi talking to Namjoon about their soulmarks shouldn’t have made him feel bitter but it did.
“You saying that while pouting on my couch, miles away from your friends who now have your exam result, is not helping your case.”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say to your brother, you shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’m saying a lot because I care about you. This,” She says, motioning to him to which he replied with an offended look. “Isn’t healthy. The more you’re hiding away, the more this will haunt you.”
“You’re just saying that because you’ll have hyung over soon.”
“That I am, so just get your shit together and go! I planned a night for us but I had to move it because of you.” She shot back but he knew it had no actual snark behind it. She had welcomed him with warm arms after all.
Hoseok had seen how his friends slowly fell in love with you while he continued to look at you and see a best friend. Seeing how everyone seems to have been captured by you, he got curious.
For a long time since debut, Hoseok had stopped perfecting his craft and pursuing his aspirations to pay attention to someone else. It was uncommon but he too once wished for a soulmate until practice, video shoots, and music production began to eat up most of his time and he forgot about his initial wish.
Seeing his brothers be taken by their best friend, his crush, he couldn't help but be curious how it came to be.
Was it because you were closer to their age and, for the lack of better terms, accessible to them that they had begun to seek the comfort of a lover in you?
“Do you think because she's also been busy with us that she began to seek comfort with us too?”
“Tae, just eat your breakfast.”
It was such a random thought from Tae one random morning, and Hoseok would’ve brushed it off like the other time he gets struck with an idea but this one stuck to him like an annoying ex. The idea loomed over him the whole journey to the company and back home. He grew hypersensitive to how he approached you since that morning and he began to notice the miniscule details he would’ve shrugged off any other day.
From how your touches would linger on their skin, how you’d comfortably lean in closer to them without batting a single eye at how unusual it may seem to others, he took note of them all. It was how he knew their leader’s feelings for you, even if the man himself hadn't noticed it yet.
Hoseok found his proof in Namjoon’s eyes that restlessly roamed the room until he’d find you in the bustle of the staff. It was also in the way he’d always reach out for you, may it be when you’d turn to leave and he’d catch a drama-esque scene where instead of calling out for your name, Namjoon would reach for your hand and speak to you with that soft look in his eyes and the genuineness in the dip of his dimples when he smiles.
Eyes never lie nor do the dimples on his cheeks whenever he grins, even when the beholder hasn’t realized it yet.
It was then did he realise how odd your relationship is with them and decided to take a step back to draw a line.
Friends, especially ones whose gender are opposite of each other, aren’t supposed to be as touchy and comfortable the way you and his brothers are. You didn’t say anything when you noticed and wordlessly respected his decision. He was firm on drawing the line, his sister had questioned his actions but he’s determined, nothing is going to stop him from going back on his decision.
At least until he got sick.
Without any of his brothers available to tend to him as they had to leave for Japan the very day he fainted—he had to pass out while talking to the migration officer, so embarrassing!—, he thought he'd power through it alone for a few days. But then you volunteered to stay back to take care of him and everyone just let it happen as if it's normal.
Which is not.
He'd understand taking care of him during the job but to take a leave of absence just to watch over him because his family is unavailable due to the rough weather at the time, in a house far too big for the two of you while the rest flies to another country. It wasn’t appropriate, not normal at all.
In the haze of his high fever, he had asked you how you were acting as if the situation was normal and in response, you had hit him lightly with the drenched towel you used to wipe his face.
“Don't be ridiculous. You're one of my best friends even if you’ve been acting up these past few days. I'm not about to leave while you're sick and alone in the dorms. If your family could come to Seoul, I would've left with the others so don't overthink. This is just me being a good friend.”
Cooking for him, wiping his face and making sure he's comfortable in bed—It felt far too domestic to be friendly.
Familial doesn't sound like the right word either. There’s nothing familial about the butterflies in his stomach when you had kissed his forehead good night that day as a joke when Jimin had called you or when you had woken him up the next day.
Oh how beautiful you were that morning.
He knew at that moment that the goddess of beauty had favorites when she made your skin glow softly under the radiance of the rising morning sun like a halo and had your messy bed hair look frustratingly good on you.
You were borrowing their clothes that day since you had already got your items shipped with the other staff, Taehyung’s white striped polo hung off on you like a dress and Jimin’s red basketball shorts gobbled up your form yet even with the fabrics dwarfing and hiding the curves of your body, he still thinks you’re the cutest sight he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.
You were especially cute in their clothes though.
In his feverish haze, all he could think about was how pleasant it’d be if you were to wake him up every morning like an angel welcoming him to heaven. What he’d give to the world to have you be the first thing he’d see in the morning.
Then you spoke and greeted him in that roughened sweet voice and Hoseok was gone.
Realization immediately had him freezing, tensing up as you let yourself fall across his blanket covered feet to groan about how sleepy you still are after putting down his medicine and breakfast on the bedside table. He hadn’t been able to reply, busy with tampering down the racing heartbeat echoing in his ears.
Looking back a year later, him falling in love with you wasn’t as odd as he thinks it is, uncommon but still cliche.
Jiwoo taking the space next to him made him jump, breaking off his line of thought.
“Seriously, just get it over with. The faster you see the result, the faster you can decide whether to move on or not.”
It was the most logical step to take but it felt…wrong somehow.
He couldn’t imagine a day where he’d look at you and never feel the tickles of butterflies filling his stomach or the warmth your fingers would leave behind after carding through his hair or tilting his chin up to have a better look on his makeup. It felt like an offense to the fates.
Although loving you has its downsides, with your obliviousness to their feelings whether intentional or unintentional often makes him want to pull his hair out, he’d never regret feeling the joy of admiring someone when he’s with you. Hoseok has never felt more motivated to produce music with lyrics far too romantic to come from someone who has never had a lover since pre-debut. Not that you’d see that of course.
He couldn’t remember how many times he found himself wanting to grab you by the shoulders to shake you whenever you teased him about his creations, and hoped it would be enough to let you know that all those cheesy lyrics he had uncharacteristically puked out was all because of you.
“Don’t you go souring your face like that, you know that I’m right.”
“And just because you sound right, doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to you.”
Jiwoo rolled her eyes and turned to her kitchen, probably to take a pan and hit him upside the head with it or to save herself from seeing the pathetic image of her brother being a fool for love.
He knew not to hope, he repeated those words to himself but at the same time, he could sense the small, miniscule bead of it hidden within his heart, pushed down to the bottom of the barrel and awaiting its eventual death once he set his eyes on the negative results on his test.
In all of the times he got scared, Jung Hoseok has never been so terrified at the thought of being left out of your nexus. It would be the highest form of torture, a cruelest fate the heavens have dealt.
How would he function seeing all his brothers do all the things he had imagined himself doing? Due to how sensitive the bond is, he wouldn’t be able to get a feel of your touch for a year, maybe two if the gods deemed it funnier.
What is he going to do then? Die from envy?
He wouldn’t be able to survive, it would ruin him completely. That parasitic feeling would eat him up from the inside and eventually spill out of him, it would damage the relationship he and his brothers had established through hardships and time. Something he too treasured as he does you.
A chime rang out and his eyes immediately fell to his phone on the coffee table. From the familiar set of emojis on the name of the messenger, he reached over to answer to his Yoongi hyung.
[18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i know what you’re doing [18:23] Me: i don’t know what i’m even doing right now hyung [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: you may fool the others but im not like them [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: jiwoo had already asked me last week about this problem ur supposed to be fixing so dont even try to lie to me [18:23] Me: im just worried [18:23] Me: you know about my family history right? We never had a single tethered so idk what even possessed me to take that test with jin hyung when we already know the answer [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i think you’ll be surprised [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: not that i’m spoiling or anything, im just saying that if jesus could turn water into rum, then you can be the first tethered in your family [18:23] Me: well im not a son of god am i? [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: don’t get sassy with me [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: im just saying, miracles can happen [18:23] Me: i think i already lucked out with our jobs hyung [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i doubt that [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home tomorrow [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: the maknaes are planning a party for you [18:23] Me: LOLOLOL WHAT [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: they even bought two different cakes [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: wont spoil what they say [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home if you want know [18:23] Me: i will
Despite telling his hyung that he’ll return, he wasn’t sure if he’s going through that decision just yet.
“Did you at least bring a change of clothes with you?” Jiwoo chimes, reappearing from the kitchen archway.
“What if I don’t have any?”
“Then you’re sleeping in those.”
Despite her words, she eventually pulls out a pair of pajamas from her boyfriend’s temporary side of the closet for him to borrow. Sleeping that night was far from being an easy task when he could read and see from the images the maknaes are spamming the group chat, photos ranging from decent captures of moments to a blurry mess where the one holding the phone is running away from a figure that distinctly look like Jimin.
He tried to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head and the way his stomach seems to shrunk and eat itself up with every picture and video he sees. He truly does try to ignore the voice judging him for daring to squeeze himself in an already perfect dynamic.
Eventually though, the voices quieten and he falls asleep.
______
Jimin is falling in love with his soulmate.
It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone but he's actually falling in love with his soulmate. Tingling butterflies in his stomach, skipping heartbeat, tickling warmth in the chest, the whole mile.
What started off as playful admiration where he’d tease you and lightly tug or pull your hair up while you were putting setting powder on his under eye, quickly developed into a giggly high school romance kind of love where he’d avoid your eyes just so his stomach would stop feeling weird and feel the heat of your touch linger from where you last held him.
Now that he’s thinking about it, the whole thing sounds silly because of course he’s going to fall in love with his soulmate.
The morning started as most mornings have begun for him since Jungkook’s birthday, with your face, bare and naked of any products, and the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of his clothes. More often than not, he’d find himself coming to consciousness feeling your body weight pressing on his arms or your breath ghosting against his throat and he'd just freeze.
Every time it happens, electric shocks would run down his skin and he’d be taking a quick trip to the bathroom to calm his racing heart.
It was insane how often he had to lean over the ceramic sink so early in the morning, breathing heavily to try and ground himself before he reenters the room and sneaks back into his bed, but strictly keeping himself on his side of the pillow fort while careful to take your hand in his once again without waking you up.
But today, he found himself wishing for time to stop just so he could stare at your face at this very moment.
With the light sheen of the light filtered through the curtains bouncing on one side of your skin giving you an ethereal appearance, he found himself at a loss for words at the beauty presented before him. His eyes traced the lines of the long lashes kissing the apple of your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and down to the plush of your lips.
Jimin has lost count on how many times he has wondered about how it’d felt pressing against his.
In the peaceful silence of the early mornings, all he did was stare and wait for time to pass while wishing internally for the world to slow just so he could soak in the peace the morning brought.
Eventually though, he had to steer his attention elsewhere. Jimin rolls to the other end to reach for his phone on the bedside table.
He’s been scrolling on his phone for a couple of minutes, lurking in the fandom space—both international and local—when the door creaks open and Taehyung steps in with sleep-lidden eyes and body heavy with lethargy. Forgoing to close the door of their room, he trudged towards the bed like an overworked employee before promptly falling face first to the spot between you and him. He churned in the small space, making himself comfortable by throwing an arm around your blanket-covered form.
For a long while, the only sound in the room came from the occasional videos he plays.
It was weird. Having a soulmate who has multiple soulmates is weird.
He should be feeling disturbed seeing someone cuddle up to his soulmate but he wasn’t. Jimin, contrary to popular belief, is possessive, probably more than Jungkook was in his younger age. Although it wasn’t to the point of killing like people like to showcase in films these days, possessiveness for him is as tame as snaking arms around waists and narrowed eyes.
Maybe there’s a bit of pulling them aside for a quick reminder in the middle of an event but the point is, he’s possessive.
But he couldn’t find a single cell in his body who was bothered by the presence of someone else in the room.
This soulmate thing is weird.
When he laughed at a post, Taehyung dragged himself up to shoulder level just to see what he was laughing at before giggling himself. Suddenly, you push yourself up and turn to them with squinted eyes.
“Good morning, noona.”
“Tae? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Seokjin hyung sent me up here to wake you both up—”
“It’s still too early!” she groaned, stretching her arms above her head. “I’m not built for working this early!”
“— he said if you don’t go down before seven, he’ll eat the can of smelly fish you bought for him in Sweden as a joke.”
You paused, the threat successfully shutting you up before you let out an exaggerated groan and dramatically burying yourself back into the pillow.
“Can’t a girl rest? I have a bad headache, and I don’t even know if the beating is Namjoon’s or mine.”
It’s easy to forget how there’s six different soulmarks affecting her all at the same time. From how she’d hear their leader’s heartbeat no matter how far, to the altered taste due to his Seokjin hyung’s mark, and to his Healing Touch. He couldn’t even fathom how much of a nightmare it is sensing everyone.
They eventually dragged themselves down to the dining room after a quick bathroom break. Jin had immediately greeted them with heaps upon heaps of pancakes with maple syrup drooling over the side and scrambled eggs on the table.
Yoongi and Namjoon were already nursing their cups of coffee on the table—with Joon hyung taking his rightful spot on one end of the table as the leader, Seokjin hyung taking the seat on the opposite side, and Yoongi next to their leader—Seokjin was occupied with his food when they arrived, one scrolling on his phone while the other crazily scribbled on his journal.
“You didn’t even try to at least cook me waffles, hyung. I’m hurt!” He exclaimed and the man rolled his eyes.
“In another life, if you were my soulmate, maybe I would’ve considered it.” Jin then flashed a smile at you before skipping back to the kitchen.
Jimin couldn’t help but notice how you shifted uncomfortably on your seat at the noticeably more generous portion on your plate and he switched his plate with yours, immediately shoving one into his mouth before his hyung returned. An action noticed by everyone in the room.
“Jimin,” Yoongi called out, voice gentle as a whisper. “Give me one.”
He followed, standing up to bring his plate closer to his hyung and passing it over, adding the eggs into the equation when Yoongi motioned him to add it. Seokjin returns when Jungkook has trudged out of his room and taking the empty space next to Taehyung.
Jungkook immediately noticed the generous amounts on his plate and immediately reached out for two pancakes with his fingers and plopping it down on his plate before taking three more from the middle dish and practically drowning his towers in maple syrup. As if it wasn’t enough, he reached for the softened butter.
When Jin returned, it was with another dishful of bacon and slices of apple. If he noticed the change of plates, he said nothing.
For a long while, they all occupied themselves with their food. A companionable silence
“What’s the agenda for today?” Jungkook was the first to break the silence.
“Yoongi hyung is coming with us to buy furniture for noona.” Jimin replied.
Taehyung then stops slicing his pancake and jutted out his lips towards Yoongi’s direction.
“Can I come with you?”
“I need your voice for the new song I’ve been working on.” Namjoon replied, looking up from his journal with a stern stare directed at the pouting boy. “You’ve been gone for so long, I have a couple for you to work on.”
“I can do that tomorrow, hyung. Let me go just for today? Hm?”
“I can go right? Since you need Tae’s voice instead of mine.” Jungkook sleepily chimed in, eyes still half closed and a hand raised halfway.
“You’ll do the carrying?” Yoongi challenges.
“I’ll even do the talking.”
Jungkook held his gaze with a small, playful grin, waking his face up which Yoongi matched after a couple seconds passed.
“Alright, you’re going with us, kid.”
“I have a touch-based soulmark, I need to come too!” Taehyung argued..
“It's not as drastic as Jimin’s. Even then, you’ve recharged enough.” Seokjin responds, pointing his fork at him.
But before Tae could reply, a shrill notification sound pierced through the air and Y/N pulled her phone out of the pockets of her sleep shorts. Eomma <3
Shit.
Seeing how fast the entertained lilt in her expression drops into dread, the table falls into a hush. As if sensing the approaching tsunami of words from her mother, Yoongi takes his mug and walks out of the room with Seokjin following close behind.
_____
“What did I hear about you getting a soulmate? You ungrateful child, I carried you for nine months and raised you with my blood, sweat, and tears yet this is how you treat me?!”
That was how your mother had begun the moment you had accepted her call. Her voice, despite being carried through such a small device, had blasted out, her uncontainable rage far too grand to be limited by the phone’s initial features. How a small woman could hold such an explosive anger and powerful voice is a wonder no one in the world has the answer for.
Hearing her voice through the speakers had Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon fleeing the scene, but not without karma immediately hitting their leader who had accidentally checked his shoulder on the wall on his way out.
Jungkook followed quickly, dunking his milk in one go and taking his plate with him as he jogged to follow his hyungs, Taehyung behind him.
Jimin had tried to leave but was stopped by both your entangled hands.
“So damn ungrateful you are! Didn't even tell me what was happening, a fucking lawyer knocked on my door and there I find out that my child is tethered. What was my daughter doing to forget to tell HER mother she had soulmates? Why did I have to hear it from someone I don't know?!”
“Did you really think you could leave me alone here?” I whisper-shout at him.
“Noona, let me go. I know we can go for five minutes now.”
“You’re really gonna risk our health for that?”
“At least don’t turn the camera at me, let me hide under the table.”
“Is that my new son-in-law Jimin?” Your mother had chimed, her tone taking a sudden turn. I turned the camera to him despite the insistent shake of head and wide eyes. “When you said you were also trying to find a husband for my daughter, I didn’t think you’d mean you and your brothers!”
“I know right?! Who knew I’d be one of the husbands I’ve been talking about, right auntie?”
“Already talking about marriage, huh? Y/N!” You turn the camera to you and find her smiling so wide you feel your cheeks ache for her. “Your soulmates got good heads on them, already thinking about marriage this early on!”
You shake your head.
While marriage had once been an issue you lost sleep on, you knew it was impossible to attain as idols. They still got stadiums to perform in, songs to compose and perform for the ARMY. Bangtan would continue on for years as long as they sing and dance or as long as their passion remains alive and roaring. They had worked hard to get where they are now, with the taste of glory and power that comes with their rise in fame, retirement is a far away dream when they’re just getting started.
Not to mention, your brain still struggles to accept your new reality despite the very apparent a red string connecting you and Yoongi over the table, and hearing Namjoon's heartbeat at the back of your mind. Hoseok hasn’t even checked his test result yet but your mother is already looking decades ahead.
“Ma please, you know that’s after they retire which is thirty years from now.”
“Jimin,” she calls out, lip jutted out in a pout and he leans over to get into the frame. “Are you guys going to make this old woman wait to see her daughter be a bride? I’m not gonna last long you know? My bones hurt every morning and my appetite is beginning to weaken.”
Jimin laughed nervously, eyes wide as he turned to you for help but you're not going to jump in when his face has calmed the raging beast.
“Don't think for one second that I'm done with you, you ungrateful brat! You haven't even told me why you broke it off with Guwon when he was about to propose!”
“D-does it really matter now?” You winced when Jimin narrowed his eyes at you. Suddenly remembering what was drowned out by the sudden revelation of your soulmate links.
“It doesn't, global popstars sound much better than a lawyer anyway but would it hurt you to tell me what happened exactly? Don't you think your mother deserved an explanation at least after I toiled away trying to find you a husband?!”
“Don't you worry about it anymore, auntie,” Jimin says, voice like a gentle caress trying to tame her fierce anger. “Noona now has seven to care for her now, we'll get to that bridge when it comes but for now, how about we treat you girls to a nice spa out in Jeju?”
“Oh? I wouldn't want to impose on your bonding period, but I'd like to take that offer later. How so nice of you, Jiminie.”
“It’s not the best of gifts but I assure you that there’s plenty to come. Expect a couple of fruit baskets from Yoongi hyung and other stuff too from the others.
“You seven better take care of my daughter, it would be a shame if you all mucked it all up and I have to resent you all.” Your mother sighed, feigning sadness. “Anyways, expect a visit from Soo-in soon dear daughter. She will deliver my heartfelt joy in my stead, your father still needs my help around the house, damn pride of his, he shouldn’t have mindlessly tried to fix the roof himself.”
A shiver wracks down your spine at the thought of your mother’s gift after ghosting her and Soo-in for almost a week now.
The last time your sister had visited, it was after Jungkook had ‘ran-into-the-sunset’ with you on his shoulder and him covered from head to toe in black. The vile wrench had switched your sugar and salt, hid the lids of your tupperwares, hid lego in your shoes before eventually ending her wickedness by hiding the wires of your charger and the wifi router’s adapter.
If your mother only threatened to hang you upside down, Soo-in made sure everything in life became irritatingly inconvenient.
“She won’t be pinching my ears?”
“She’s classier than that, I raised her first so expect more. I love you, dear daughter! Visit us soon with your seven soulmates!”
__________
[Today, 12:42] [12:42] The BADDEST💅: so let me get one thing straight and two things gay [12:42] The BADDEST💅: ur linked with bangtan? [12:42] The BADDEST💅: THE ENTIRE ROSTER????? [12:43] The Mother😌: congratulations Y/N, I’m so glad you finally found your soulmates😊 [12:43] The Mother😌: always knew you’d be tethered [12:43] The PRETTIEST🌸: so who’s the biggest?👀 [12:43] The BADDEST💅: girl I don’t even think you got the libido for two [12:43] The BADDEST💅: how tf are you gonna handle seven?!?!?! [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she was in the hospital u fiend @The Prettiest [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she needs to be worrying about a different type of d to receive [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮💨: SHUT IT MINHYUK [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮💨: hoseok isn’t confirmed yet so its just six for now [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: bet you wish he’s your soulmate too [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: cuz the way that man thrusts his hips in baepsae? [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: 🥵 [12:44] The Mother😌: have some faith in her, she’ll manage [12:44] The Mother😌: gift giving for your birthday just got a whole lot easier though😊 [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮💨: wdym by that @The Mother😟 [12:45] The BADDEST💅: NO BUT SRSLY [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW TF ARE YOU GONNA MANAGE SEVEN [12:45] The BADDEST💅: ONE DICK PER DAY??? SEVEN DAYS A WEEK??/ [12:45] The BADDEST💅: lowkey wish that for me BUT [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW?????? [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮💨: MINHYUK PLEASE [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮💨: JIMIN IS LITERALLY NEXT TO ME [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮💨: NABI CONTROL YOURSELF [12:46] The PRETTIEST🌸: don’t scold me when ik ur thinking about it too [12:46] The Mother😌: when’s the soulbinding? [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮💨: Jihae please, its only been a few days [12:46] The Mother😌: back in my days, people bound themselves and completed the bond on the first day… [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: minhyuk i think you're forgetting the best part out of this [12:47] The BADDEST💅: wut? [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: imagine Alexa’s reaction when she finds out our dearest Y/N is Seokjin’s real soulmate [12:47] The BADDEST💅: OH [12:48] The BADDEST💅: she better HOPE she’s not in bighit anymore the moment the NDA expires [12:48] The BADDEST💅: im going to be the most annoying fucker she’ll ever meet [Today, 13:02] [13:02] The BADDEST💅: no but srsly how? [13:02] The PRETTIEST🌸: R I P that pussy ayee
________
There’s nothing more infuriating than picking furniture with your soulmates, you decided.
Yoongi wanting everything to be practical and of the greatest quality matched with Jungkook’s penchant for only liking soft things, it was hell to be stuck in a furniture warehouse with the both of them. Jimin had never looked so godly when he insisted on letting you pick the brownish-red persian rug to be placed under the wide round canopy bed you had eventually settled with after a long debate with the rapper and the youngest.
What started as Jimin towing you around the shop to place you in front of every furniture before a mischievous grin spread across his lips, and the strength of the bed frames immediately turned sour when you both found your other two companions calmly arguing about the color of the curtains—they both eventually settled with thick white, and beige curtains, to Jungkook’s dismay.
He wanted black-out curtains for when he eventually ends up sleeping in your bed, he claimed.
The current dilemma, however, had you going silent as the prickles of irritation began to itch your skin.
Yoongi wanted to commission a carpenter he knew for a custom desk made for you and is insisting on you to skip shopping for tables and shelves, and take the cheapest one for now but Jungkook thinks it’ll take too long and wanted the boho vanity table set with a huge round mirror with stained glass around the edges. The rapper wanted the place you’d be doing work on, to be built with the practical features while keeping it organized but Jungkook, although he saw his hyung’s vision, refused.
“Imagine waking up with a canopy, great quality bed, amazing decor, then you have to stand up and work on a rackety blue plastic table because you have to wait months for that desk. How does that sound, hyung?”
Jimin not picking sides only added to the pounding headache you’re having.
While you understand both sides of the argument, either of those options didn't make you feel less guilty about having them skip work to spend all this money for your room, even if you knew how barely of a scratch their collective funds will take.
If Taehyung hadn't had the foresight to hide your wallet while you were in the shower with Jimin, the guilt would've been lighter.
You envy Jin who has been prickling your tastebuds with honey glazed fried chicken back in bighit, the lingering taste on your tongue making your stomach uncomfortably churn in hunger.
The disguises could only last for so long before people start noticing how familiar your soulmates’ eyes are, seeing as they’re plastered everywhere in the major cities. For the public to see your hands entangled in the pocket of Jimin’s coat would fuel the press for a year; hell, a century even with how the media moves these days.
As Jungkook’s voice picks up, you reach for the red string and Yoongi halts, looking down at the connecting line before gently grabbing it too.
‘Head hurts’
‘No more’
The rapper lets out an exhale and Jungkook stops.
‘Sorry’
‘Forgive?’
“Ok, so how about we take the set and I commission my guy then we’ll change it out once it's done?”
“Deal.”
Next to you, Jimin sighed in relief. “Thank god that’s settled, I thought I was going crazy listening to them debate on what’s better.”
“I don’t think either of them has ever fought for something they wanted that much.”
You turn to Jimin and a teasing smirk grows on his face.
“They love you like that, noona. Wanted nothing but the best of the best for you.”
In a different context, you would've easily brushed off his comment but having the warmth of his touch thrum from your hand to your toes, the healing touch always at work, your cheeks flushed dark and you lightly slapped his arm.
Ever dramatic, he clutched his bicep and winced.
“Why are you hurting me like this?”
“Please, we have regeneration as our soulmark. You're barely hurt.”
“I'm gonna bruise and the fans are gonna see it then I'm telling them how much you like hurting me!”
________
When Hoseok arrived it was with a chorus of loud bangs!. The man had leapt at least a foot or two from the shock as confetti rained on him.
Once he recovered though, he rained curses on the mischievous maknaes—and surprisingly, Yoongi and Namjoon too but they were spared due to one having his hyung privilege and Namjoon having retreated to the kitchen before his hyung had recovered from the shock.
Jin had clapped him in the back when he entered the dining room, fitting the huge and frilly birthday hat on his head and taking a picture of his dumbfounded reaction before the man could even realise what was happening.
Seeing them celebrate such a small thing, an odd feeling settles in your heart. You try not to be a killjoy but you couldn't ignore the mass settling on your gut.
Everything continued on as normal, everyone acted like they had before Jungkook's confession. They find out their links to you and suddenly, the past is behind them. As if you hadn't—although unintentionally—led them on and hadn't rejected three of them. A soul link appears and every fault was forgiven.
It wasn't only you who seemed to be feeling this way though.
Namjoon too it seems, seeing how he had kept his distance. Not in a bad way but rather a respectable, perfectly platonic way. You guessed it'll take long before the information would sink in for the non-believer, he was the one who had treated you more professionally than the others. You'd feel his concerned eyes ever so often but other than that, he'd treat you like a fragile glass.
Never to be touched and never to be perceived too long, fearing the weight of his gaze is enough to make you crumble.
(Or was it just you turning something that was normal before into fuel for your restless mind with the soulmarks now in the picture?)
You knew Namjoon is just having a hard time settling down with the fact that he's in a nexus connection with you but the ugly voice at the back of your head whispered a different tale. All of them are negative and judged far too harshly than you normally do yourself.
Jungkook bets his hyung will break after the third week, Tae says a month, and Jimin slyly says next week. You think it'll take Namjoon at least half a year before he properly processes him being tethered to someone, a non-believer.
The thumb that began to caress your knuckles snapped you out of your thoughts and you immediately found Jimin’s concerned eyes.
“You okay?”
You nod but he knew you better. Luckily, he lets it go.
“Open it, open it!” Jungkook chants, bringing everyone to gather around them.
Hoseok nervously laughed, placing down his car keys, phone, and wallet on the table before flipping the envelope’s flap.
Unconsciously, you leaned forward as he carefully tears the paper, the sound seeming to echo loudly in the silence of everyone’s nervous anticipation. As his brothers had gone from standing at a respectful distance to noisily looking over the main dancer’s shoulder, Jimin had tugged you closer to join them, standing in front and peering over as Hoseok flips open the first fold.
Then out of nowhere, Yoongi had a burst of energy and screamed.
Everyone jumped at his sudden burst of energy making Hoseok’s hand shoot up to his heart and the three maknaes snapped their head to their hyung. The man in question laughed noiselessly, satisfied with the reaction he garnered.
“Hyung, why did you do that?! I just got out of the hospital and you want to send me back again!”
“You’re practically invincible, what are you talking about?” Yoongi shot back.
“Just open it, all I’m seeing is your information hyung and that’s boring!” Taehyung cuts in. “I already know what your blood type is, your last name—”
“You go open it then—”
His words died on his tongue when Taehyung snatched the paper up from the envelope and pulled it open. But before he could start reading the result, Hoseok took it back.
Waiting as he read through his results felt like watching the presidential race on the tv, heartbeat rising every time the opposing candidate gained more than the man you elected. You worried your bottom lip with your teeth. His eyebrows furrowed, his frown deepening as his eyes wandered lower and you began to panic.
Why are you even nervous?
Aren't you being too greedy for wanting to have Hobi too?
Hoseok then crumbled into the floor, curling up to himself as he clutched the paper to his chest. Instantly, everyone panics as his heart shattering sobs echoed in the living room.
Suddenly, the colorful decorations hanging on the wall and the balloons scattered on the floor made
“Hoba? What’s wrong?”
“Hyung come on, don’t make me nervous like this!”
“What did it say?”
Jimin falls next to him, your hand momentarily forgotten to comfort his hyung and Jungkook follows, hugging the sobbing man while Seokjin reaches for the crumpled paper peeking out of Hoseok’s curled up form, a grim expression on his face.
“I am writing to inform you of the results of your recent soulmark evaluation and tethered status assessment. After a thorough examination and review of your diagnostic tests, it has been confirmed that you are,” Seokjin takes a deep breath then releases it shakily, a wide smile spreading across his lips. “Indeed tethered.”
You let go of the breath you had unconsciously held in as everyone in the room began to celebrate. Jimin pulled Hoseok to stand, laughing as the man continued to weep before reaching up to fix the birthday cap Seokjin had slipped onto his head. Jungkook, unable to stop himself from ridiculing his hyungs whenever he could, pulled out his phone to record them.
“How do you feel knowing you’re the first ever tethered in your family?”
Taehyung follows by placing his phone under Hoseok’s chin like a mic.
“You must be so happy being the first Jung to have a soulmate since the dawn of time, sir. Please tell us what you’re feeling right now.”
“Get that fucking… camera off my face or I’ll break it.”
Hearing this, Namjoon turns to the maknaes. “Stop teasing him, Seokjin hyung isn’t even done reading it.”
Despite this, Jungkook didn’t stop recording but Taehyung had skipped over to look over Seokjin’s shoulder.
“I think you’ll want to read this one yourself, Hoba.” The oldest says, handing the paper over to the sniffling man.
With his result back in his hand, Hoseok straightened himself, clearing his throat as Jimin gently wipes his tears off of his cheeks.
“This means you have a soulmate, a unique and profound connection that is both rare and significant. Furthermore, based on the characteristics of your soulmark and the energy patterns observed, there is a high probability that your soulmark is of the altering type.”
“They have the technology to figure out the soulmark type too?” Yoongi asks, surprised.
“Unfortunately, the global fated registry haven’t figured out a way to pinpoint what soulmark our patients have. It is with our deepest—”
“Didn’t know that, had mine cancelled when I figured it out before the results came.” Seokjin replied. Beside him, Taehyung pulls up his phone to rapidly type out whatever he had in his mind.
“I wonder what kind of altering mark it is. There’s a lot of documented ones but what if it’s also a new soulmark? A revived one from the 19th century like Jimin’s?”
“That’s unlikely.” Yoongi refutes.
“You don’t know that.”
With the initial elation ebbing away, everyone continued the celebration seated around the dining table where Jimin had parted from you to take out the congratulating cake from the fridge to light up and serve in front of their hyung who had almost toppled over with how hard he laughed seeing it.
Yoongi had insisted they also take out the apologizing cake so it wouldn’t go to waste. Upon hearing this, the group broke out in laughters, unbelieving until Jungkook brings out the ube flavored cake with the sentence “sorry your family nerfed your potential to be a lover boy.” placed on top in red icing.
The excitement never faded away through the night, dinner was lively, as if they had swept the four daesangs on both award shows. But instead of being influenced by the joy you feel down the red line from Yoongi and the practically vibrating maknaes sitting across you who keep cutting through conversations with suggestions on what soulmark their hyung might have, you find yourself standing behind a tall wall.
When everyone cheered and raised their mugs to toast, you only felt yourself mentally retreat further as a mass settled deep in the pit of your gut.
Seeing the men around you with wrists decorated in thick bands of gold that cost more than your yearly wage, faces flawless from careful maintenance, and names carrying the weight of their country’s pride, did you really deserve them?
You, who was a nobody staff they just happen to gravitate to due to the closeness of age, matched with the members of the world’s biggest boyband. They weren’t just out of your league. You’re the human on earth wishing to reach the stars from another, far away galaxy, yet by fate’s generosity, you were given the chance to see the beauty of them from up close.
How does one come from dating sleazy men with oily hair and faces akin to an infant’s drawing to being tethered to superstars everyone in the world would sacrifice a life for a chance to talk to them?
When everyone had begun to retire for the night, Jimin had silently guided you back to his room. The sensation of him pressing a kiss on your forehead cuts off your thoughts, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug grounding you further.
“Are you with me now, noona?”
“Of course, I always am.” You answered with a scoff, pulling away and he frowned.
“I could sense your feelings the entire dinner, don’t try to lie to me.”
Even in the shades of his room bare of any bright lighting, you feel Jimin stare past your physical body and peer into your soul. In the harsh darkness with only you and him standing in it, you felt exposed, stripped to the barest bone under his gaze.
Never have you ever hated having a soulmate than you do now with someone perceiving your feelings openly, sensing the slightest shift in your mood with a brush of skin. It's annoying, scary yet at the same time relieving that there’s someone who could hear the tune of the noise in your brain.
Not many people have the same luck you have, seven soulmates with one of them granting you what technically is immortality, who else wins at life like that?
But do you really deserve it? Deserve them?
“Stop that. You deserve this, deserve all of us. If someone thinks otherwise, tell me their name and I’ll go beat them up.”
You laugh. “You can’t do that, that’ll stain your image.”
“I don’t think you understand just how important you are to me, noona.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “Before you think about it, I’ll beat someone up for you with or without the soulmarks.”
The image of someone with the face of an angel and a sweet demeanor like Jimin jumping someone in the parking lot to fight for your honor shouldn’t have made you cackle the way you did. The warm rumbles from your linked hands spread across your body and the thoughts were immediately silenced.
“I know you wouldn’t like it but I’ll be telling the other guys about this. I don’t like how you think you’re undeserving of all this when you do, in fact, deserve this bond after sticking with us through thick and thin. You saw all of our flaws and helped us in our bad days, you may think you haven’t done much to warrant this kind of luck but you do.”
Jimin pressed his lips on your forehead and your heart skipped a beat.
“Namjoon hyung might have a problem expressing it, Yoongi hyung might not show it openly like Jungkook and Taehyung does, but they share the same sentiment. It’ll take them time to be more expressive so I hope you find it in yourself to be patient. We’re still in the adjusting phase so if anything bothers you, don’t hesitate to tell us.”
Tears were streaming down your face at this point, eyes burning as they poured out like a waterfall. The softness in his voice has eased its way into your heart and dispelled the gloominess surrounding it, replacing it with a crashing wave of relief followed by the warmth provided by the soulmark.
You didn’t realise how much your thoughts had been wearing you down until tonight. Comforted by his words and the tightness of his hug, the dam finally breaks and you falter in his hold.
“Shh, cry it all out, noona.”
“I-I shouldn’t be crying over something so stupid like this.”
He shakes his head. “It's not stupid. Don’t say that.”
There’s a tug on your pinkie and you feel the string grow heavier. Immediately, Yoongi’s concern bleeds into you.
‘Why crying?’
‘What happened?’
“Let’s go lay down, noona. I’m feeling the ache in my muscles bending down like this.” He says lightheartedly, giggling. “Don’t worry about answering the others, I’ll handle it later.”
Guiding you to the bed, Jimin tugs you to fall into his arms and you let yourself be pulled into his chest.
Between the sound of Jimin and Namjoon’s heartbeats, and his fingers tracing slow circles on your back while the other hand massaged your scalp, it was easy to be lulled into sleep. In the echoing sound of your sniffles and hiccups, his sweet humming permeates through the air. His song was familiar yet your sleep addled mind took a second to realise what it was.
Serendipity, your mind eventually supplied.
For a moment, in the solace his arms offered, the world became quiet and you fell asleep, forgetting to worry about what chaos yesterday will bring.
_________
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DATING DEKU (BUT BEING KATSUKI'S SISTER)
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Warnings: just Deku being fool for reader, 'n Katsuki being a jealous brother.
synopsis: You're dating this cute green-haired boy, but you're related to that stressed-out blonde bitch 💔
- Well, it's obvious that you've known each other since you were kids. And according to both parents, you've shown that you liked each other since you were young (Katsuki says that's stupid)
- Because you were a year younger, you didn't go to U.A. with them. But that doesn't mean you didn't spend time with Deku.
- To be honest, Katsuki did everything he could to keep you away from Deku. Saying things like "he's a loser, and we're amazing" and "you're my sister, you shouldn't hang out with a nerd like him". But it's not like you listened to the blonde. Since you didn't want the blonde bothering you, you continued hanging out with him, even in public.
- But that stopped after Katsuki simply called his friends to beat up the green-haired one. You literally stopped talking to the blonde for a whole month, and that worried your parents, because besides affecting Katsuki, they could hear you crying every night, saying how stupid Katsuki was. In the end, you guys resolved it after he promised he wouldn't bother Deku anymore. Not that he kept his promise.
- After what happened, you started sneaking out with Deku. Whether it was going to his house, or going to play somewhere, when you knew Katsuki was going to train. And it's obvious that he never told you about Katsuki. That's why, the day he arrived all hurt, you almost had a fit.
"WHO HURT YOU?"
Sometimes he forgot that you were capable of screaming as loud as Katsuki.
"I-it was nothing!"
"NOTHING? DEKU YOU'RE ALL HURT!!"
He simply held your hand and smiled.
"It's okay! No need to worry! I already told you."
The simple contact made you blush. It was funny how children dealt with affection.
- Over time, you started to drift away. It wasn't that you hated him, but most of your time was spent training with Katsuki. So in the last year, before the two of them went to U.A, you barely saw Deku.
- You were on good terms with Katsuki. That is, until you found out that he never really left Deku alone. The moment you walked into the classroom in a rage, he thought it was strange. But as soon as the blonde felt you attack him with all your force, he was in shock.
"DON'T YOU EVER COME NEAR HIM AGAIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME YOU SHIT?! I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE MY BROTHER"
you pulled Deku with you, leaving behind an extremely angry blond, yelling that he didn't care about you.
That afternoon, Deku comforted you while telling you that everything was going to be okay. But you didn't believe it.
- Obviously things got weird between Katsuki and you. Especially because you would stay in the same house for months before he went to U.A. And even though your parents tried everything to make things work out for you, nothing worked. He was too proud to do anything, and you had too much anger built up to be on good terms with him.
- You continued to be close to Deku. Staying with him all day now, and threatening anyone who dared to look at him the wrong way. And even if he said he didn't need all that, you just told him to shut up. You two became really close after that.
- At the time, when he would just disappear sometimes, you were really worried. Even though you didn't have much time, as you were busy with your own training.
- Of course, when you found out he got into U.A. you wanted to celebrate. When you brought up the subject of the quirk, he got all weird, so you let it go.
- At the same time, you and Katsuki still haven't made up. Neither of you wanted to apologize, you were too proud for that. And now, it would be even harder with him at U.A.
- At first it was really strange, when you didn't see Deku as often anymore. Even though he always called you every night, and sent you messages all day long.
- He was saying how wonderful U.A was. That he had met All Might (he said he told about you to him, and you almost had a heart attack). You were so excited for him! (and for Katsuki even though you wouldn't admit it). But of course things changed when he was kidnapped.
- As soon as you found out about the kidnapping, your first instinct was to call Deku. You were desperate, and he tried to calm you down by saying he would fix everything. That's when you had your first fight.
"IT'S NOT GOING TO BE OKAY, DEKU! HE'S BEEN KIDNAPPED!"
"You need to calm down... I told you! I'll find a way! You need to trust me!"
"A WAY, DEKU?! MY BROTHER WAS KIDNAPPED BY THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS! IT'S NOT SIMPLE!!! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? HUM? UNTIL A MONTH AGO YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK"
the silence that fell was deafening.
"I'm going to hang up."
"(Name) Wait-"
You hung up on him, you knew what you said to him was wrong. But your concern for your brother's life was greater than any guilt. You ignored all his other calls for the rest of the day.
- As soon as Katsuki came back. You punched him in the face. Well, brotherly love, right? But you didn't let go of him for a whole week.
As soon as you met the blond again, with the weight of your fight and the worry you felt, all you could do was punch him.
Everyone was shocked, your parents, All Might who you didn't even realize was there. Even Deku wasn't expecting it. Of course, Katsuki didn't take it personally, certainly not. But before he could yell something stupid, he felt you hug him.
"You're an idiot, you know that?"
He simply gave you an ironic laugh and hugged you back. He didn't like hugs, but he knew he couldn't deny you that.
Well, now everyone was really in shock.
- Well, they gave you a week to stay with Katsuki (With All Might asking for it, it became easier for it to happen). No one had ever seen this hot-headed blonde treat someone well, so when they saw how he treated you (despite still having the insults), everyone wanted to meet the grumpy blonde's dear sister. And he hated the idea, although he wasn't the only one. A certain green-haired boy, perhaps, was quite sullen.
- Of course when you saw Deku, the first thing you did was apologize. It was funny that even though you were as proud as your brother, when it came to Deku, things were simpler and easier. He obviously accepted your apology, you spent an entire day together, with Katsuki obviously hating every second of it.
- Well, the rest of the year was tense too. With all the fights and stuff. The only times Deku could relax were when he was with you.
- It didn't take long for him to realize that he was in love with you. Because of course, with his friends making jokes about it, it was hard to hide it. He had no intention of confessing, he didn't want to ruin his friendship with you. But of course Uraraka, Mina and Denki thought otherwise.
- After coming up with a plan to make you two finally confess, everything went wrong. Katsuki was suspicious, so he simply wouldn't let go of you the whole time. Until, of course, the guys decided to bring All Might into the plan (bros are determined). Somehow, they convinced All Might to distract Katsuki. So when you were finally alone, he got nervous, not knowing what to do. And before everyone could intervene to help him, they saw you kissing Deku.
- Obviously you started dating. Everyone was happy for you, your parents thought Deku was adorable. But of course one person didn't like it. A certain blond guy was totally against your relationship. But not that he would do anything other than threaten Deku, saying that if he touched a single hair on your head, he would end up underground (he takes threats seriously). Anyway, he would always be in the corner complaining, not that you care.
- The best thing that could have happened was when you started at U.A. Many nights, he would sneak into your dorm. You would have lunch together, walk hand in hand through the hallways. He would train with you (you loved it when training turned into a kissing session, which embarrassed him). Anyone who looked at Deku would realize how much he loved you, even Katsuki knew that.
- Most of the make-out sessions were initiated by you. Sometimes in the bedroom, during training, or during breaks. One time, you almost got caught. He almost died because he thought he would get caught, while you could only laugh.
- Every time you went home, you always took Deku with you. Katsuki hated that. You also went to his house a lot, his mother adores you! She loves showing you pictures of him, which makes him embarrassed.
- You two love to sleep cuddling. One time you were cuddling on the couch kissing, and Katsuki decided to get between you. You were sulking, and Deku didn't know where to hide his face. Poor Deku if Katsuki knew more.
- Even if Katsuki doesn't admit it, he trusts Deku. And he'd much rather you date the green-haired boy than any other guy.
SERIOUSLY I'M SO OBSESSED WITH THESE TWO!! I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE IT!!!
'N SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH!!!
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