#I read the last two thirds in a couple days

[adore-laur]

Omgg I would love to see different times dadrry gets protective !! Like I can so see him being one of those dads that set boundaries the first time the baby is being introduced to family. He’d be like “no kissing on the face, no taking her away from mom without asking her first and wash your hands before holding her” etc etc. Or him getting defensive when people start to pity him when they find out he’s having a third girl and he gets annoyed and defends his girls 😭😭

Also ofc need to say your dadrry series is the best thing ever I still have tumblr solely to read your writing ☺️☺️

PROTECTOR

——

Pacific loons wailed hauntingly near the shoreline as you sat in the patio's swing chair, listening to the sundry sounds of nature. The oceanic view was a calm presence, one that often lulled you into a hypnotic trance with the endless ebb of waves and the horizon's dying light. Above the railing, brass wind chimes produced a plinking melody in the wind. The atmosphere of home engulfed you like a warm hug.

It was a moment of serenity while Harry went on a grocery run with the girls. He had offered to take the after work, and it was sweet of him to give you time to decompress after parenting alone all day. Plus, it got them out of the house. You would usually be able to take them somewhere for fresh air and fun sights to see, but pregnancy fatigue prevented any hopes of traveling past the front door.

A month had elapsed since you surprised Harry with the news of a third baby. Two weeks since you both had found out it was a girl. In that time, life had coasted by blissfully between the routine of working part-time, daycare drop-off and pick-up, and bonding with your little family over the weekend.

As much as you cherished the hustle and bustle, it was necessary to prioritize personal time. Sometimes it came in the form of sinking into a hot bath, venturing to the beach with a novel, or catching up on much-needed sleep. Today, it consisted of feeling the breeze pass through your hair and appreciating the beauty of southern California.

It would be easy to fall asleep out here. The crashing waves, birdsong, and rustling trees were a lullaby. But you knew the moment you closed your eyes, you would miss the last streaks of the sunset, with its delicate wisps and golden clouds. So you shifted slightly to wake your limbs that were becoming jelly-like, and as you did, the blanket previously draped across your collarbones pooled into your lap. You stared down at it, smiling. The bedroom's storage ottoman held approximately a dozen different blankets, all with some sort of sentimental value attached to them. The crocheted quilt your first daughter had come home from the hospital with; the heated one with Mom embroidered on it; the oversized fleece one Harry liked to specifically use for cuddling either you or his girls.

The one you had chosen for your peaceful patio time was a ragged, faded patchwork quilt that Harry had kept (possibly stole) from the walk-up apartment you lived in together nearly eight years ago. It had watched your love for him grow beyond your wildest dreams. Had seen moments of rib-aching laughter, frustrated tears, pain and passion, and a commitment that would always withstand rough waters. Neither of you had wanted to part with that blanket, so now it stayed in a special place in the home that had once been a far-fetched fantasy.

As your fingers plucked loose threads from the fabric, you felt your phone vibrate with an incoming call. It was hidden somewhere under the thick blanket, and after a moment of searching, you picked it up and looked at the screen. It was Harry, made evident by his contact photo—a family picture on the Temescal Canyon Trail, your youngest strapped to your chest in a carrier and Harry carrying your oldest on his shoulders. A generous elderly couple had offered to take it, with the stunning backdrop of the expansive coastline. You especially loved the picture because it showed off Harry's legs in his athletic shorts, all long and tanned.

"Hey," you answered, assuming he was calling from the grocery store. He often did with ideas for meals or questions about kiddie snacks. Sometimes he'd ask what desserts you were craving, and then he'd spoil you by bringing home more than you could even fathom eating.

"Hi, baby," he said, sounding winded. "Can you unlock the door for me? Both girls are out like a light in my arms."

"Oh!" you said, not expecting him back so soon. Nature's hypnosis made you lose track of time. "Okay, I'll be right there."

"Thank you. I'd hang up, but my phone is balancing rather precariously on my shoulder."

You laughed and hung up for him, then untangled yourself from the cozy confines of the swing chair before heading inside. You were careful to hop over the dolls and picture books and blocks scattered across the living room carpet.

When you reached the front door and opened it slowly, your heart melted. Harry stood there holding one daughter on each hip, their little bodies slumped against him as they slept. You could tell your youngest was in a deep sleep. Your eldest, though, was definitely pretending so she could be carried inside like a princess. The sunset's pink light peeked into the garage and softened Harry's handsome features ethereally. Who else could look this good after grocery shopping?

"We're home," he whispered, and those two simple words filled your heart with an unspeakable amount of happiness.

"I'll help put stuff away," you replied quietly, taking his phone to relieve him from his uncomfortable position. "You go tuck the girls in." It was nearing their bedtime anyway, so better to take advantage of a smooth transition.

Harry smiled with that attentive look on his face, then bent to tenderly kiss the sweet spot on your neck. "You're glowing," he murmured in your ear, then walked past you, leaving your cheeks flushing like a besotted teenager.

Once the groceries were put away and the kids were down for the night, you and Harry went to relax in the bedroom. The sky was now devoid of color with stars twinkling faintly, and the full moon spilled its light through the bay window.

You were already in your pajamas, collapsing onto the comforter, when Harry asked, "How was your day?" He shut the closet light off, dressed in just a T-shirt and black boxers. There were those legs again, the lean muscles a feast for your eyes.

"Mellow," you said. "We stayed inside mostly. Morning sickness has been kicking my ass."

"Good thing you didn't have to work today."

You nodded. That was the nice part about working part-time and partially from home—it allowed for the freedom to be with the kids more often. You didn't mind taking them to daycare, especially since it was imperative for socialization, but it lessened your anxiety when you had them under your supervision. It was a suitable balance.

"Did everyone behave at the store?" you asked, sliding your socks off under the sheets.

"Yeah. No tantrums." Harry raised his eyebrows proudly, and you both shared an air-five. "They seemed knackered. Slept all the way home."

"I tried my best to tire them out."

"Well, you succeeded," he said appreciatively, then joined you in bed, stretching his limbs. You were so thankful for his diligence. To work ten hours and then parent to take some responsibility off your plate was admired more than you could ever put into words.

Harry reached his hand over to the nightstand to resume the book he'd been engrossed in recently but paused and turned to you instead. "Can I gossip with you?" he asked.

You quirked your brows. "What happened?"

He breathed deeply and stared into the distance. "So, I was in the cereal aisle, right?"

You laughed while cuddling up to him. "This is juicy so far."

"It's not even gossip, really," he said. "Just something that irked me."

"Please continue."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and painted a picture of the scene. "I had the girls sitting in the shopping cart, and an old lady nearby started fawning over them. Which is fine, because they're adorable. Anyway, she started asking a bunch of questions. How old they are, what their personalities are like. Somehow I accidentally let it slip that we have a third one on the way, and I know we're telling our families next week, but I got caught up in the conversation and—"

"You're so bad at keeping secrets," you interrupted with a good-natured groan.

Harry kissed your forehead apologetically. "The worst. So, the lady had the audacity to act all surprised that I was going to be a father of three girls. Gave me a face like she pitied me. And then guess what she said..."

"I assume something mildly offensive," you replied.

"She goes, 'I bet you were hoping for a boy. To bring some balance to your home.'"

You scoffed and said, "More like chaos. What did she even mean by that?"

He shook his head, equally puzzled. "I don't know, but I just said, 'I'm very happy with my life,' then grabbed a box of Cocoa Puffs and went on with my day."

You frowned. "Why do some people think having daughters is such a burden?" It was mind-boggling. They had taught you so much and would continue to as they grew and spread their wings. It was your purpose to shape them into resilient, kind, and empathetic women. What a beautiful honor anyone would be lucky to experience.

"I'll never understand," Harry mused, locking eyes with you. "It's the most..." He trailed off with an emotional smile, and you stroked his cheek, letting him take his time. It wasn't often you or he could speak so rawly about the life you'd created together. "It's just the best feeling imaginable, you know? I can't describe it. All I know is that I wouldn't want it any other way."

You softly kissed him, feeling the sincerity of his words in the way he gracefully slipped his tongue past yours. With your palm still cradling his cheek, you halted his kisses using your thumb to say, "You're this family's heartbeat."

His lustful green eyes opened, his pupils dilating as if absorbing your admission. "If I'm the heartbeat, then you're the lungs."

"Sweet-talker," you teased.

"You started this love fest."

After a stretch of comfortable silence, Harry settled his hand on your small bump, a warm and knowing touch. "Please don't think I'm waiting on a son," he said.

You snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. I know more than anyone else how much you wanted daughters. You told me during our first date."

"I did?"

"We talked each other's ears off that night about our futures. The universe must have been listening." The conversation was burned into your brain. In that dim oceanside restaurant, you had known he was a keeper.

"Yeah," Harry whispered, kissing all over your stomach, leaving no skin unmarked by his gentle lips. He then rested his head in your lap. "I can't wait to meet her."

You hummed. "Have you ever thought about what she'll be like?"

"A combination of all four of us."

A ghost of a smile spread on your lips. "We're going to have our hands full then."

"I'm ready."

"I know you are," you said while playing with his hair. "That's why I chose you."

He was a protector, down to the fibers of his being. You didn't have to be in the room for him to remind the world of his devotion to being your husband. To being a father. He laid it all bare, and you could only hope that it would be passed down to your daughters like an heirloom blanket.

——

[itsnesss]

HI may i request a junho fic where junho keeps seeing reader and arresting her and taking her into custody and she keeps saying “this is the last time you’ll see me” and then he arrests her like two days later and hes like “are you doing this on purpose?” and reader is like “maybe” and then it escalates from there into freaky time 🤭🤭

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | criminal behavior (theft), smut, explicit content, p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 2.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You know what you're doing is wrong. You know it perfectly well. However, the risk and the possibility of being caught keep you moving. Your fingers graze the edge of a chocolate bar in a small convenience store. "It's no big deal," you tell yourself. A candy here, a poorly secured wallet there, always minor things. You don't need to do it, but something inside you pushes you.

You're about to leave the store with the chocolate hidden in your sleeve when you hear a familiar, firm voice behind you:

"Stop right there!"

Your heart skips a beat. It's him again. Slowly, you turn around, facing those dark eyes that seem to pierce you every time they meet yours. It's Officer Hwang Jun-ho, the same man who caught you a couple of weeks ago.

"You again?" he says incredulously, crossing his arms.

You smile as if it's some inside joke between the two of you.

"I guess I'm consistent, Officer."

He doesn't seem amused. His lips press into a thin line as he takes a step closer, making you instinctively step back. He observes you for a moment, as if trying to decipher your intentions.

"Hand over the chocolate," he says finally, extending his hand.

"What chocolate?" you ask with feigned innocence, raising your hands as if offended.

Jun-ho has no patience for your games. In a quick motion, he grabs your wrist and retrieves the candy from your sleeve. His touch is firm but not painful. You feel trapped, but not in a way that bothers you.

"You’re under custody for attempted theft," he declares, pulling handcuffs from his belt.

"Seriously? For a chocolate bar?" you protest, though you make no effort to resist.

He doesn't answer, simply leading you out of the store toward his patrol car. As you walk beside him, you can't help but notice him. There's something about his seriousness, the way his uniform fits his figure, that makes you want to provoke him even more.

The second time he catches you is at a street market. You're playing with a cheap keychain, pretending to be interested, when you "accidentally" slip it into your pocket. You barely take two steps before feeling a firm hand on your shoulder.

"Really?" Jun-ho says, his voice laced with incredulity.

You turn to face him, putting on your best innocent expression.

"Officer? What a coincidence."

He doesn't seem impressed. His gaze is stern, but you can see a spark of something else in his eyes. Maybe curiosity. Maybe irritation. Maybe something even he doesn't fully understand.

"Let’s go," he says, guiding you once again to his patrol car.

The ride to the station is silent this time, but the tension in the air is palpable. You can feel his gaze on you occasionally, as if trying to figure out your intentions. When you finally arrive, he lets you go with another warning.

"Don't do it again," he says with a seriousness that almost makes you feel guilty.

Almost.

The third time, you decide to be more obvious. You grab a pair of expensive headphones from a display case in a mall and head for the exit without even trying to hide them. It’s a bold move, but you know he’ll be nearby. And you’re right.

Before you can leave, you feel a hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"This has gone too far!" Jun-ho exclaims, his voice filled with frustration.

You turn to face him, trying hard not to smile.

"Oh, Officer, I thought we wouldn’t meet again."

He stares at you, his jaw clenched.

"What are you doing? Why do you keep doing this?"

"Why do you think?" you reply, leaning slightly toward him, invading his personal space.

Jun-ho seems thrown off for a moment, as if unsure how to respond. Finally, he leads you to a secluded alley instead of the station.

"Talk," he demands, crossing his arms. "Why do you keep stealing? You don’t need to do this. I know that."

You take a step closer, closing the distance between you.

"And what if I told you I do it for you?"

He blinks, surprised.

"What?"

"Maybe I like seeing you like this," you say, your eyes locked on his. "So serious. So frustrated. Maybe I want your attention."

Jun-ho studies you, his expression a mix of confusion and something deeper.

"Are you saying all of this was intentional?"

"Maybe," you murmur, leaning in even closer.

He grips your shoulders, his gaze searching for something in yours.

"This is insane," he murmurs, but he doesn’t pull away.

"Then stop me," you challenge, your voice barely a whisper.

Before you can say anything else, he kisses you. It’s an unexpected move, filled with all the tension that had been building between you two. It’s not soft or gentle, but it’s everything you hoped for. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart as the kiss deepens.

His hands, initially on your shoulders, slide to your waist, pulling you closer. Rationality takes a backseat as both of you get lost in the moment. No words are needed; everything is conveyed in the way his lips move against yours, in the way his hands hold you as if he doesn’t want to let go.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless. Jun-ho looks at you with a mix of disbelief and something deeper.

"I can’t believe this just happened," he says, shaking his head.

You smile, still catching your breath.

"Maybe I should steal more often."

He chuckles softly, though his expression remains serious.

"You’re trouble, you know that?"

"And you seem to enjoy solving it."

Jun-ho sighs, but he can’t hide the small smile forming on his lips.

"This doesn’t change anything. It’s still my responsibility to stop you."

"Please do," you reply with a wink, knowing this won’t be the last time you provoke him.

Jun-ho takes a deep breath, trying to regain control. But his hands remain on your waist, as if he can’t bring himself to let you go. Suddenly, his eyes harden with determination.

"This is insane," he murmurs, stepping back. His hand moves to his belt, pulling out the handcuffs.

"What are you going to do, Officer? Cuff me?"

He doesn’t respond. With a swift and efficient motion, he secures the cuffs around your wrists. The metallic click of the locks makes your heart race even faster.

"Are you seriously taking me to the station for this?" you ask, but there’s a playful tone in your voice, as if you’re enjoying this turn of events.

Jun-ho studies you for a moment, and for the first time, he seems to hesitate.

"No. Not to the station."

"Then where?"

"To my apartment. We need to talk."

The seriousness in his tone surprises you, but you don’t have time to question it. He leads you to his car and helps you into the passenger seat, your hands still cuffed. The silence between you during the ride is heavy, charged with palpable tension.

When you arrive at his apartment, he helps you out of the car and escorts you inside. The space is neat, minimalist, but cozy. Jun-ho carefully removes the cuffs, his fingers brushing against your skin.

"Sit," he says, gesturing to the couch.

But instead of obeying, you step closer to him, challenging the distance he’s trying to maintain.

"Do you really think you need to do this?" you murmur, your words a whisper between the two of you.

Jun-ho closes his eyes for a moment, as if trying to gather his strength. But when he opens them, something in his gaze has changed. He grabs your arms, his grip firm but not aggressive.

"I don’t know what you do to me," he confesses in a low voice, his breath brushing against your skin.

"Then stop overthinking," you reply, leaning toward him.

This time, the kiss you share is even more intense than the last. The tension that had been building for weeks finally erupts in a whirlwind of emotions. His hands find your waist again, and yours slide up to his neck as you both surrender to the moment.

Without breaking the kiss, Jun-ho guides you toward his bedroom. The intimacy of his personal space only heightens the heat between you. The touches grow more desperate, breaths mix, and clothing begins to disappear, piece by piece.

Your heart races a thousand miles an hour, but there is no fear in it. Just need.

When you both fall into bed, you are aware that everything has changed forever. This is not just sex. It's much more. It's the culmination of all the times it caught you, challenged you to continue, gave in to your provocations.

When he positions himself over you, his eyes lock onto yours for a moment before taking his time. He positions himself between your legs, caressing them as he enters you. Both of you gasp, the pleasure simmering slowly inside you. Jun-ho's movements are slow, deliberate, as if he were trying to prolong this moment forever.

"I'm very close," he murmured softly, his teeth finding the lobe of your ear. "And you?"

"Yes," you whisper, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you both reach climax.

The pleasure that envelops you is overwhelming. It's not a simple orgasm, but a profound experience, something that changes you from within. They both stand still for a moment as the world readjusts around them. Then, their lips find yours in a soft kiss, but full of meaning.

Later, while they lie together in bed, their bodies intertwined, Jun-ho looks at you with an expression that mixes exhaustion and tenderness.

"This wasn't in the procedure manual," he says with a weak smile.

You laugh softly, caressing his face.

"Maybe you should write a new one" .

He sighs, kissing your forehead.

"You are a lost cause" .

"And you are completely stuck with me, officer".

[melwsnt]

BIRTHDAY BOY; DEAN WINCHESTER

summary. It’s dean’s birthday, and you know he’s never been celebrated the way he deserves to be.

—Dean being cute.. a baby girl, if you’d like. He’s so sweet in this I’m weeping

a/n. If you’re reading this THANK YOU! thought it was only fair I’d write something since it’s my man’s birthday. He deserves to be celebrated in every lifetime even the one’s where he’s not real. Don’t hesitate to interact with this as much as you can that’d be lovely x Sam and Bellamy imagines are coming soon👀

You knew it was hard for Dean to admit- well pretty much anything. He didn’t talk about his feelings whether they were physical, in terms of friendships and even worse if it came to a woman.

You knew he loved you- you knew he loved Sam. He didn’t have many people left to love- to be honest. Most were dead- but he’d say that’s just because life’s a bitch.

And maybe he’d be right. Life is a bitch. But this mindset wasn’t a good look on him. You wanted him to feel- to let you in, to just tell you he felt the same way you did even though you knew he did. Everybody knew. You figured it was a matter of time before he’d confess, after all these years of tension, pining, acting like a married couple who bickered every single day over stupid stuff.. he’d get tired of it eventually. He’d want you to be his.

You’d been with the brothers for as long as you remembered. Sure you’d celebrated his birthday by bringing a pie, two to be honest. One for him to eat alone, and the other for you and Sam to share- because baby came first- pie came second- and then you guessed maybe you and Sam came third. At least you hoped you’d made the rank alongside Sam.

But you also knew that he didn’t like being celebrated. He didn’t think he deserved it- and he sure as hell wasn’t used to it. You don’t even think he’s ever had a birthday party thrown for him. Ever.

The bunker was quiet. It was just you, trying not to fall on your face putting up the decorations.

The food was on the table, all ready to be devoured but the two men- you knew they wouldn’t last long and you’d even saved a piece of cake and a piece of pie for you- since you were the reason they were there anyway.

The creak of the bunker’s door startled you, as you jumped from the chair, ready to greet the boys. Sam knew- and was an accomplice. He was supposed to get Dean outside, go to the library to study on some books they apparently didn’t have in the bunker- which took Dean a little bit of time to not call bullshit.

You could hear them descending the stairs as you stood in the middle of the kitchen- frankly looking like a clown. You were excited, although a little bit scared- not of Dean himself- but you didn’t want him to feel obligated. You hoped he wouldn’t hate it.

‘So what do you think? Wendi-’ Dean’s question was cut short when he entered the kitchen and laid eyes on you.

‘Woah. What the hell is this?’ He asked, looking around.

‘You’re the birthday boy, aren’t you?’ You smiled sweetly at him, trying to catch a glimpse of reaction from him.

‘You- this is for me?’ Dean looked starstruck. That wasn’t a usual look on him. You’d never seen him look so- hopeful. His eyes almost glistened as to say thank you for this. He couldn’t believe you’d done this for him.

Sam chuckled as Dean threw a look over his shoulder.

‘You were a part of this? Damn it, Sam.’

Your smile flattered. You thought this was it- he wasn’t happy about it. You were better off just never celebrating the man he was.

You were about to apologize- but he cut you off.

‘You guys are insane, you know that? Thank you. Was that your idea?’ He looked over at you, his eyes still glistening. He looked emotional, you weren’t used to seeing him like this.

‘Yeah. I figured you deserved it. We’ve never done it like this before.. I’m sorry if this is too much.’

Dean stepped closer to you, nodding his head.

‘No. This is great. At least he didn’t blow the surprise.’ Dean snickered throwing a look at Sam.

‘I gotta go change. I’ll leave you two a minute.’ Sam said as he made his way out the kitchen. Before he stepped out of it, he put his thumb up. Encouraging you.

‘Did you do that all by yourself?’ Dean asked- though the answer was obvious- because he and Sam were out, he still couldn’t believe you had.

‘Yeah. I’ve been at it for 2 hours. I wanted the pie to be perfect, you know..’

‘You cooked that?’

‘Yeah. Like I said, I wanted it to be perfect. You always say the one’s we buy at the store are always too soggy. I figured it was your birthday so you should have a good pie.’

His heart skipped a beat. He figured maybe it was time. Time to let go, time to let you in, time to finally have the woman he’d been wanting and dreaming of all these years.

‘You know, if you’re in love with me, you can just say so, sweetheart.’ He didn’t mean it to come out like that. It’s not like he’d ever confessed his love before- this was new. He figured making light of the situation was his way of maybe crawling towards confessing after.

‘You’re an asshole you know that?’ You laughed as you hit his chest and started turning around.

Before your body could turn away from his, he grabbed your arm.

‘I meant it, earlier. Thank you. This is the nicest thing someone’s ever done for me.’ His serious look was back. He felt like he had to get everything out, or he’d burst.

‘You deserve it, Dean. Seriously. It’s not fair that we don’t celebrate birthdays in this life. Everybody deserves to be celebrated. Including you-Especially you.’ Your eyes softened as you decided to look anywhere but in his eyes. He was scary intimidating- you hated that sometimes.

‘I don’t deserve you, you know that? You’ve been putting up with me for way too long. It’s not fair to you.’ Dean’s hand was still on your arm- he was now tracing circles on it. You weren’t sure he even noticed he was doing it.

‘What do you mean? You guys mean the world to me. Of course I’m putting up with you.’ You knew what he meant. You figured maybe this was finally the time he’d tell you how he felt. Knowing it was good. But hearing it was better.

‘I mean- you know what I mean. I know you do.’ He felt like a 15 year old. He was giddy, nervous, felt like his knees were going to give away under his weight. He couldn’t get it out.

‘I do. I want to hear you say it, Dean. Please. I need this.’ You finally found the courage to look at him. His eyes were sweet, they looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world. In his world.

‘Do you remember that hunt we had last month with the vampires?’

‘Yeah. I almost died, of course i do.’

You knew where he was going.

‘Exactly. I almost lost you then. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably won’t be the last. You scared me. And I can’t have that. I can’t lose you, I mean it. I just- I can’t imagine doing this without you. I wouldn’t know how to do it.’ His eyes glistened with more than hope this time. He was truly scared of losing you. He couldn’t imagine a world where you weren’t with him. Where you weren’t his other partner in crime. Where you weren’t answering his questions with questions and sass. He couldn’t have that.

The knot in your stomach tightened.

Hesitantly, you put your hands on each side of his face.

‘I’m not going anywhere, Dean. You know damn well it’s gonna take more than a few vampires to take me out. You’re not getting rid of me. ‘

His left hand positioned itself on top of yours. His other one made its way to your hip.

‘Good. I don’t wanna. You really want me to say it, don’t you?’

‘I do. But I don’t want you to feel pressured. You don’t have to say it, I understand.’ Your eyes still looked in his.

‘No. I know I have to let you in. It scares me, but you’re it. I’ve- I’ve been in love with you since you started tagging along. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to never tell you. It’s just been unspoken since then. I didn’t know how to tell you.’

‘Don’t go soft on me, Dean. Plus, it was obvious. I know you do. I’ve known for a while. It was just hard navigating this without really talking about it, you know? I feel the same. I’m glad you finally told me.’ You smiled at him as his usual smirk found its way to his face again.

‘This is nice. I still can’t believe you threw me a birthday party.’

‘I think there’s still something missing here, birthday boy.’ Your hands moved to be around his neck. His hands now on your waist.

‘Oh yeah? What’s that?’

‘Well, I think you forgot to kiss the girl.’

Dean smiled, and didn’t hesitate to put his lips on yours.

It was sweet. He was sweet. The kiss wasn’t like you imagined it would be. It was slow, like he was taking it all in, like you were fragile and he didn’t want to break you.

He tasted like cigarettes, and mint. His tongue found its way into your mouth, as he hovered over you, your knees going weak.

That’s all you’d ever wanted.

‘Thank god for that damn birthday party.‘

[cwritesforfun]

Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader: Escape part three

Part One Link <~ read first Part Two Link <~ read this too

Y/N = Your First Name & L/N = Your Last Name

They will not follow the Roman style of speech - it will be written in modern language.

*I do not own the Gladiator 2 characters or plot* I do change some of the plot!!!

Masterlist

Y/N's POV

Geta rested for a while, and eventually, you realized he was here to stay. He had told you countless times that he wanted to stay, but it hit you that he really did want to.

You thought that him staying would be easy, but why should it be?

Geta disagreed with your leadership style to the point where he kept arguing with you in and out of court. You finally had it with his constant disapproval, and you made your guards escort him out of the room. The rest of the day at court was tense for you. Everyone seemed to be walking on ice around you.

You meet Geta in one of the sitting rooms in the palace and have tea delivered. You take a cautious sip and ask, "So, Geta, would you like to tell me about what was wrong today in court?" Geta glances at you and answers, "I just don't like the way you let everyone have a say in court proceedings. I also didn't believe some of those crimes should have been pardoned. They deserved to be executed." Your eyes widen, and you reply, "I see. Geta, I let everyone have a say in what happens at court because that is what happens in this country. I let everyone preach their case and why they think I should listen to them. It keeps people happy to know that their views have been heard. It also ensures that I know the full story going into the proceedings. I know Rome was different, but you are not in Rome now." He looks distraught, and you continue, "And as for the crimes being pardoned, I think you would benefit learning from my advisors about the rulings in my country. I'll talk to them tonight, and you can attend lessons during the next couple of weeks so you can better understand my decisions. I don't like how you reacted in court and think you can also learn how to better express your disagreements. I'll make sure that is included in your lessons." He asks, "Anything else?" You answer, "I think it might be best if you sleep in another room while you attend the lessons so you can try to remain unbiased. Knowing how I would think may influence your lessons.” He reaches out for my hand and replies, "I thought we weren't going to be parting ways again." You reply, "We're not exactly parting ways. I'll still be at the palace and join you for dinner. Besides, I believe some time apart will benefit us. We began this relationship quickly and with an intensity that no others can grasp." He nods and replies, "Fine, as you wish, your majesty."

Geta's POV

How can one sit through boring lessons all day and not be annoyed?

I keep telling myself that I'm doing this for Y/N, but really, her choices of people to lead my lessons are a drag. For the first week of my lessons, I sat in lessons with her old governess from when she was a child. This lady was cold and stubborn. She kept snapping at me, and she treated me like a child. The second week, I was with her foreign advisor, who was a persnickety old man who kept quizzing me on viewpoints of this country. I kept thinking of how I would react as Emperor of Rome, which was the wrong thing to do. Speaking of Rome, apparently, it thrives under Lucius' reign. Both of these lessons required extra reading too. They had Y/N's notes inside and she often included little jokes that made me smile. I love her. However, the third week of lessons was my favorite. I learned from her military advisor who was both kind and fierce. His team respected him and followed him. He was kind to me and it seemed he actually liked me.

If I thought that was bad, well, I have been attending lessons early in the morning until dinnertime, where I must sit with Y/N and other members of her court as they all chat about their lives. I don't always get to sit next to Y/N, and she rarely acknowledges me. I just want to hold her and kiss her, but her guards keep strict protection around her. Almost no one can even talk to her. Am I a threat? Why is she ignoring me? I need to talk to her. Does she love me?

I'm sitting in my room with a book after my last lesson when a guard informs me that Y/N wishes to speak to me before dinner. Finally.

I get dressed and follow the guard to the sitting room nearest the dining hall. I enter with a smile on my face and see my lovely Y/N sitting at the desk. She stands, walks toward me, and guides me to the couches. I notice her pour two glasses of alcohol from the bottle on the nearby table and I ask, "Love, what is wrong?" She hands me a glass and answers, "I pushed you away wrongly. There was a threat to my life, and I wanted to protect you. So I sent you away. I do believe those lessons were something that you should have done, but I shouldn't have ignored your presence the rest of the time. I'm sorry." I quickly grab her open hand and ask, "What about this threat? Is it neutralized?" She nods and answers, "We apprehended the team this morning after my tea was poisoned. They were trying to harm me because they heard I sheltered you here. They escaped Rome to live here, away from you and Calla's rule. They are being held in prison for the attempted assassination. And as for the tea, well, I noticed it looked weird and I had my doctor test it for anything out of the ordinary. They used a generic poison and we found it quickly." I reply, "Don't send me away again. I'm here for you, no matter what. I love you, my Y/N... does the threat because of me scare you? Will you send me away?" She shakes her head and answers, "No, love. I'm not sending you away. I tightened security, and we'll make sure my people know you are no longer a threat to their lives. This is not Rome, and I would not stand for mistreatment of my people." I ask, "How will you tell them this?" She answers, "It's an idea that I wanted to run past you. I think an engagement is in order." I jokingly answer, "I would like to be engaged to the governess." She tilts her head and asks, "What?" I answer, "I was kidding. I was trying to make you jealous." She replies, "Oh, I'm not threatened by her." I bite my lip, smirk, and reply, "Non-jealousy looks hot on you." She laughs and says, "I meant for us to be engaged, silly." My eyes widen and I say, "I accept your proposal, Queen. I would love to be your husband." She smiles and says, "I am happy to be your wife soon, too... We'll draft a speech for us to give to my people, so they may know the Geta that I love." . . . Taglist: @doodle-with-rhy @ziggeddie

[batmansblushofrobins]

Ninth House

I know this isn't goodreads, but...

I just finished reading the Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo and I have many disorganized thoughts and nowhere to put them. I'll give it a tentative 3.7 stars, but I would be hard-pressed to put a 1-5 rating on it that would be satisfying and completely truthful. I should also say that I will be discussing the sensitive topics that are present in the book; take a look at its trigger warnings. SPOILERS AHEAD.

So, I went into this book knowing practically nothing besides what was on the back cover and having read the Six of Crows duology by the same author a couple years ago (which I loved). Not knowing anything couldn't really be that bad, right? I love dark, gory, and horrific themes, and I am not bothered by many things I come across. I've read Red Dragon; my favourite book is Vicious. HOWEVER. The casual pedophilia thrown in absolutely jump-scared me. I'm not even talking about the graphic rape scene(s), which is a whole other thing and were various degrees of unnecessary, but about the ghost standing outside the school just mentioned in passing. I had to reread that twice over to make sure I was understanding properly that yes, that's what Bardugo means and my brain isn't playing tricks on me. It felt random, was very shocking, and it completely took me out of the immersion that I was only just starting to feel. I was still considering quitting 200 pages in because of how the rape was handled.

With the amount of gratuitous dark things thrown in this book (especially the first half), it felt like she was trying to say, "Look, I'm writing adult fiction now! I can say anything!" But the fact is that this is her adult debut and that she is already an established, famous YA author. That really makes me think she should have some warning at the front about the book containing more dark/disturbing content than the Grishaverse. For example, this one by Alice Oseman: "Please also note that Solitaire is a much darker, more graphic, more serious book than the Heartstopper series, and may not be suitable for all readers who have enjoyed Heartstopper." Teenagers (or adults) will inevitably stumble upon Ninth House after reading Bardugo's other works and not know what they are getting into. I certainly didn't. Would I still have picked this book up? Yes, but at least I would've been mentally prepared. Perhaps I brought all of this upon myself by not doing any research into the book beforehand, but I've never had a problem with that before.

Besides all of that, it took me an inordinate time to get through the first 120 or so pages. It felt slow, it was confusing and hard to keep track of despite not much actually happening, and I didn't feel very invested in the world or its (at that point) limited cast of characters.

Why, you may ask, would I possibly rate this book so high? Because it got good. And I mean really good. It became exactly the type of book I enjoy. For starters, the word choice is incredible. Once I got oriented within the world and the plot started moving along, I could appreciate how wonderful it sounded. I read the line, "She saw spots on the concrete, black stars blooming in lichen clusters on the stairs. Her blood, dripping from her lips," and knew from that point on I wanted to finish the book, if only so I could read more lines like that. Overall, I loved Turner's character, I loved Alex's growing connection with Dawes, and I loved that during the winter, Darlington was hanging over the narrative despite being gone. The reminders of Vicious (the non-linear storytelling, murder, moral-greyness in the MC, unique magic powers, etc) made me soldier on, and I'm so glad that I did. If it hadn't been for the rocky beginning and shock-factor, then I would probably have rated this at least four stars.

My only remaining nit-pick is that the naming conventions could have been better. I never read the Shadow and Bone trilogy, but I wish three of eight societies didn't follow the same title format--Skull and Bones, Scroll and Key, Book and Snake. (And why do the names Alina/Alex and Darkling/Darlington sound so similar? I don't know how to feel about that. It can't be accidental.) It was hard to care which House did what, when, since some of the Houses were nearly interchangeable. I also disliked that the evidence linking each society to Tara's murder was listed many times in rapid succession, so by the time the evidence was literally outlined on the whiteboard it already felt repetitive. I loved the line near the end of the book where Alex thought maybe they should be jackals rather than shepherds. It was really powerful, though "we are the shepherds" was repeated a few too many times to the point where it lost some of the impact it could've had. Back to the Houses of the Veil names, I do like the nicknames of the society members (Bonesmen, Lettermen, etc), and the names of other Houses like Aurelian.

If you read this review without having read the book, then I want to say this: if you like books with a murder mystery, paranormal activity, a college setting, and have the patience to get through a slow beginning, then you should definitely read this book! This review really highlights the negatives because I needed to rant somewhere, but I promise the book is worth it as long as you know what you're getting into. I will be reading the sequel as soon as I get my hands on it.

[mono-socke]

Day 30: Deactivation

There. It's done. All prompts have been fulfilled! (if you count the crack post for day 8 as a proper entry)

thanks to @the-squiptionary for the prompt list!!

and also thanks to the two that were hyping me up on my day 29 post!! you're the best :>>

[roaringroa]

not to make another post about loving my girlfriend but I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : you are Spencer Reid's roommate, the team finds out about you when a case brings them to the university you study at word count : 2.5k warning : canon-typical violence A/N : the university is a random one I picked in Virginia, bear with me because I don't know how US university systems work, thanks :) I think this is a part one, there may be a part two or even more, idk, but tell me what you think !

part 2, part 3, part 4

"I- I'm sorry, what university did you say?" Spencer's frantic tone was immediately noticed by his colleagues. Suddenly, he seemed hyperaware of everything in the room. The loud AC, Derek's pen-clicking and the overwhelming smell of Emily's coffee. "Mary Washington University," JJ answered swiftly, eyes narrowed as she sent Reid a confused glance. The man in question mumbled a few words under his breath and shot up, grabbing his coat and scarf. "We need to go." His tone, unusually urgent, left no space for debate or questioning. He was out the door within seconds, followed closely by Morgan and the others.

When you'd applied for Mary Washington University, you had known you would have to get an apartment. You lived too far away to even consider taking the numerous trains and buses and subways to get there. So, when you had been accepted into your first choice of universities, you'd started apartment hunting. Or roommate-hunting, to be more precise.

To say you had been unlucky would have been quite the understatement. You'd visited four apartments so far and could not even consider living in one of them for a second. The first had been full of frat boys who made your skin crawl, the second was with an old, far right-wing couple, the third had been two sisters who'd yelled at each other for the whole time you were there and the fourth had been so crowded your were certain it was neither sanitary not legal for another person to live there. With the deadline of university starting and having to move all your things, you were starting to get quite anxious. But call it chance or fate, one day you stumbled upon an advertisement for an apartment in a nice neighbourhood with one person who seemed quite normal. This person was a state-employee (which meant a stable salary and that meant you wouldn't have to compensate for rent) who travelled often for work and liked to keep mostly to themselves. Not one for big parties, they preferred a night-in and rarely had people over.

So you'd put on your big-girl pants and had walked over to what you hoped would be your last apartment visit. You hadn't been expecting such a young person to open the door because of the way the advert had been written and because of what it said. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid." You noticed he didn't hold his hand out and mirrored his behaviour. "Hi! I'm here for a visit!" You introduced yourself somewhat shyly, feeling intimidated. This man was at the most five years older than you and he was already a doctor?

He showed you around the apartment, which you liked very much. The rooms smelled like books and tea and everything was kept very clean. On the whole, it was tidy, even if a few books or articles were stacked in some odd places. The bedroom you'd stay in was large and luminous. After the tour, he made you a cup of tea as you discussed formalities.

"Uh, so, you’re a student, right?" he'd asked politely as he added a worrying amount of sugar in his earl grey. You bit back a teasing jest. You hoped maybe one day you'd get to place where you could comment on his daily sugar intake. "Yeah, um, I'm studying English Literature and Cinema." You stirred your tea, looking around the kitchen. Even though it was painted a dark, forest green, it still seemed luminous in the afternoon sun. "Oh, that's super interesting! I’ve always found texts in Middle English particularly insightful! I- I read the Canterbury Tales when I was about 10 years old. It’s fascinating the way in which issues which were already current then are still very present today, like in the Wife of Bath’s tale, for example-“

He cut himself off, leaning back into the couch. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks dusted pink. “Sorry, you probably don’t want me to ramble about what you already know.” “No, I think it’s amazing that you would know that, actually. What else did you like in the Wife of Bath’s tale?” Spencer seemed to brighten up at your words and thus ensued a lengthy discussion of the avant-garde themes evoked by Geoffrey Chaucer. You were fascinated by his knowledge and found his passion especially endearing. Lots of your professors weren’t even that passionate when talking of late 14th century literature.

After discussing rent, which you would afford by waitressing at a local bar, lightly touching upon political subjects (on which you seemed to agree on), he finally told you that he was an FBI agent. "Excuse me?" you spluttered, leaning backwards in shock. "I'm a profiler with the BAU, the Behavioural Analysis Unit. I can show you my badge if you want." He stood up and reached for his bag, but you stopped him in his tracks. "No, no, that's okay, I believe you. I'm just surprised, that's all, sorry." His expansive knowledge of so many things seemed fitting for an agent of the BAU. After realising you were the first person who didn't demand his badge as proof of his profession, Spencer granted you a small smile. "You don't need to apologise. I- I know it can be a bit... off-putting." He sat back down and looked you in the eye. "Is that a problem for you, living with a federal agent?"

You thought about it for a second. As a general rule, you weren't a big fan of cops. Even more generally, you didn't believe in the structure of today's society. But that was a big topic. Plus, a profiler wasn't really a cop, was he? "No, that's not a problem for me."

You'd moved in a month and a half later. Things had been slightly awkward at first and you'd had to figure out what kind of dynamic Spencer and you had. But eventually, you’d found your rhythm.

When Spencer left for work, you took care of his plants and sent him pictures of Geoffrey. Geoffrey was the cat you’d found on the street and taken in. He was named after Geoffrey Chaucer, author of the Canterbury Tales, your first common point of interest. Spencer had been reluctant at first, but you’d taken him to the vet, where he was tested and vaccinated, and the man had finally accepted him into your shared space. Now, he loved the little creature. Sometimes, you’d call him to ask how he was doing and whether he was safe. He’d always reply that yes, he was doing fine and no, he wasn’t in any danger, don’t you worry. He’d ask how you were doing and if you were staying on top of uni work and if you’d eaten and if Geoffrey wasn't being too annoying. As an orange cat, he had his particular tendencies.

When Spencer was at home, you'd always look forward to getting back from class. There was always that sense of comfort and ease when he was around. You had found a lovely routine quite easily. You'd both work or study, then cook, eat together and afterwards maybe you'd watch a movie or something. You were at a point where you could comment on his daily sugar intake, which he's started correcting since meeting you. He loved the Big Bang Theory and though you weren't such a fan, you loved the little laughs he let out and all the corrections he'd make. In general, you liked when he talked. Even more generally, you liked him. You also liked Friends and though Ross got on Spencer's nerves, he enjoyed being able to discuss it with you afterwards. The two of you got very close without even noticing.

Sometimes, you'd remember he wasn't just your roommate, but also a man. He'd make you a cup of tea and you'd stare at his hands a little too long while he stirred the honey in. Or he'd help you reach for a cup with his impressive height, his front just skimming your back with a shiver. He'd tell you to breathe and sit down when you were upset about something. A few times, he drove you home from a night out with your friends and laid his hand on your knee. He was the only one who remembered how you'd told him you wanted to kiss him.

With you, Spencer discovered many things he had never experienced before. A healthy, comforting and peaceful routine. A supporting, non-judgemental, healthy friendship. Easy laughter in the middle of the night and tired "good morning"s at dawn. Butterflies in his stomach whenever you touched him. A budding romance which kept him awake at night.

So when that was threatened, he just about lost it.

"Oh my God." "I can't believe this." "Is this a prank?" "Did someone call 911?" "What about her parents?" "Oh, that's sick."

Voices swarmed around your head, making you dizzy. Your hand rested over your mouth as you stared at the body strewn on the lawn. Much of the student body stood next to you, just as shocked. Mary Goldman had been her name. You'd crossed her just this morning in the main hall and had exchanged small smiles. You had thought that she looked really pretty today, but hadn't told her. You regretted that now. At the moment, her mascara had run down her cheeks and dried and her lipstick and been smudged. Bruises and cuts decorated her bare arms and legs and a big red stain sat on the side of her stomach. The contrast between her dead body and the green, thriving grass beneath her was haunting.

You turned away, feeling sick. You felt your friend's hand on your shoulder, a small source of comfort anchoring you to reality. Facing the road as you turned, you were surprised to see three big black SUVs speeding towards the crowd. You'd been expecting an ambulance, or cops. Not whoever these guys were. They screeched to a stop, drawing everyone's attention. A small dozen of people stormed out, all dressed differently though they all held the same aura of importance, knowledge and authority. You turned back to your friends. "Who are these-"

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard your name being called out urgently. You'd have recognised his voice amidst a thousand others. He spoke your name like no other. You frantically looked around, pushing your way to the large vehicles. When you finally spotted him, tears started pricking your eyes. "Spencer," you breathed in a half-sob. His eyes ran you over once, twice, assessing any damage. When he saw there was no physical wound, his shoulders sank in relief. He opened his arms and you rushed inside his warm embrace almost reflexively. Neither of you noticed the numerous pair of curious eyes observing your intimate exchange.

"Oh my God, Spence- What- What are you doing here?" you'd cried into his cardigan. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent he always bore. He wrapped an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders, holding the back of your head in a consoling manner. "We're- We're taking this on as a case, sweets. Are you all right?" He knew it was a stupid question but all the emotions and tension were barely wearing off and he didn't know what else to say. You pulled away but he kept you at arm's length, holding your cold, shaking hands in his warm, steady ones. "I- Yeah, it's just- I- I saw her this morning! How could she- Why would someone do this to her? To- to anyone?!" Spencer cooed and pulled you into another tight hug as you continued to ramble through your tears. When you'd eventually calmed down thanks to his words of reassurance, he pulled away softly.

Spencer understood what you meant perhaps more than anyone. The sadness, the shock, the anger, the need to understand. He gently wiped away the mascara under your eyes with his thumb. "I know, I- It's- Even I don't always understand, sweetheart, so don't- Why don't you go home? I'd come with you but-" You nodded, biting your lower lip. He gave you a sad smile. "I promise I'll join you as soon as this is over. You- you can make yourself a cup of tea and process all this and pet Geoffrey, okay? Classes are going to be cancelled either way." "I don't want to-" The look in his eyes kept you from arguing further. You nodded, giving him another hug. Before you left, an older man came over to you.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. I'm Agent David Rossi. I just had a question-" "Rossi," interrupted Spencer with a stern tone you'd never heard before. The older Agent raised an eyebrow at him. "Just one question." He turned back to you. "At what time did you say you saw the victim?" You inhaled shakily, running a hand over your face. "Uh, it must have been around quarter to eleven. I think- Yeah, somewhere between ten thirty and eleven." "Thank you, miss." You didn't miss the glance shared between the two men before Rossi retreated.

"Who was that?" asked Emily as soon as you'd left and Spencer had joined them behind the police tape. "No one," Spencer brushed her off as he kneeled next to the victim. Strangely, he hated the idea of someone who knew you dying. It felt too close to home. "C'mon, man, you lost your shit this morning, a girl you clearly know very well runs into your arms, you snap at Rossi and you expect us to believe you?" Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the rest of the team. All were staring at him patiently. He stood up, swallowing.

"That was my roommate." He informed the team of your name and of how you'd been living together for a few years now. "Spencer, you've been living with a woman for years and you've never told us?!" Derek was all but hysteric. Hotch reminded him that everyone was entitled to a private life. "So, are you dating or something?" Emily prodded again. Spencer hesitated a second before answering. "No." Derek scoffed, appalled. "You mean to tell me you've been living with a beautiful woman like that for years and nothing's ever happened?!" "Not everyone is like you, Morgan," Emily reminded with a teasing smirk. Derek sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, let's all grill Spencer later, we have a case to focus on right now." Rossi, ever the voice of reason, directed everyone's attention back to the corpse laying next to them.

Needless to say, the BAU team did not need to interrogate Spencer or attack him with incessant questions to find much out. They'd seen by his behaviour that very morning how much he cared about you. They'd seen how relieved he had been when he'd seen you safe and sound. They'd noticed you'd only started crying when you'd seen him, a big sign of trust. They had never heard him call another by pet names such as "sweets" or "sweetheart". They'd read both of your body languages like a children's book and translated it easily.

Love. Comfort. Peace. Ease.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.

For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door. 

And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again. 

“That’s it.”

Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room. 

Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for. 

Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you. 

“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.” 

Nothing. 

With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer. 

“Logan.”

Finally, he groaned. “What?” 

His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand. 

“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.

“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”

You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over. 

“Too much information.”

You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”

Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts. 

Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside. 

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking. 

However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled. 

He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie. 

By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were. 

But he was asleep. 

Right beside you. 

Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her. 

Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his. 

“Storm- what are you- Oh.”

Jean looked inside. 

“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”

“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”

You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment. 

You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him. 

It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan. 

For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm. 

Serene. 

Rested. 

Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you. 

Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back. 

“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning. 

“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face. 

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Then a cough came from the door. 

Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”

Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”

You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”

Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed. 

“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away. 

“Sure.”

Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed. 

“They’re got a point.”

“About us being a couple?”

You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”

Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more. 

Jean and Storm were right. 

From the picture…they did look like a couple. 

A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring. 

All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands. 

And for you, that meant finally reading. 

Until you sensed someone stood behind you. 

“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”

Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you. 

“Logan! Give it back.”

“I want to see what it’s about.”

You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”

“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”

“Like the romantic kind.”

Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”

You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not. 

“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”

“I believe in romance.” 

“Yeah, right.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”

“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”

Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?”

“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”

You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud. 

“People really talk like this?”

You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”

Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud. 

It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck. 

“Keep reading.”

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“Now I’m awake.” 

“Fine, just be quiet.”

You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”

Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading. 

And ten minutes later, you were asleep. 

And so was he. 

An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby. 

“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”

“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”

Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him. 

“What is it?” Then she gasped. 

“Believe me now?”

And what Rouge saw made her smile. 

On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire. 

“Come on, let's leave them.”

“But-”

“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”

Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her. 

The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October. 

Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying. 

Save for two. 

Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook. 

“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”

“You should have more faith in him.”

“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”

And she couldn’t. Because she was. 

Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg. 

There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help. 

And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies. 

“Bub,”

Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back. 

You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect. 

“Dance with me?”

“What?”

Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards. 

“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”

“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”

Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”

And you both were. 

Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen. 

“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”

“Logan.”

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”

“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”

“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”

“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”

Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest. 

For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…

Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect. 

He dipped you. 

You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh. 

Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin. 

And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen. 

And dipping you. 

When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you. 

Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background. 

“Logan…”

Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say. 

Had his eyes always had so much green in them? 

Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter. 

Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more. 

So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?

Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door. 

A sneeze. 

A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality. 

Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam. 

Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”

Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed. 

Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him. 

“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking. 

“You did ambush me.”

“I didn’t ambush you.”

“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”

You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.” 

You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”

Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own. 

“That big of an ambush.”

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa. 

“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”

You did so. 

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa. 

Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him. 

An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both. 

She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two. 

And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long. 

Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened. 

Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas. 

Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them. 

But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different. 

“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”

Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”

“So?” 

Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe. 

“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”

“Hey, no.”

“Hey, yes.”

“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”

Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”

“Technically, it’s a month.”

“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”

You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”

Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”

“Great from where I’m standing.”

You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking. 

Not at the garland, but at your ass. 

You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down. 

“I meant the garland.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”

You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”

With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”

“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”

“I get to watch you put up five more.”

You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”

Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up. 

You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away. 

Then Logan gave you a real kiss. 

A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”

He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”

“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”

Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway. 

It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms. 

And the others had been watching you and Logan all day. 

The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe. 

“Wait, no. Not there.”

“Where then?”

Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”

Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”

Storm shook her head. “Here.”

She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt. 

Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree. 

At least this way, those looking for it, would find it. 

"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”

There was no one else apart from Logan.

Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take. 

Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you. 

Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others. 

“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces. 

“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing. 

“That was some kiss.”

You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan. 

He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people. 

“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”

You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip. 

You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”

“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”

You looked back to the others. “Six months.”

A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”

All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile. 

“I knew it!”

[siempre-bucky]

what am i to you?

Qimir x Reader

Summary: You decide to leave Qimir, thinking your feelings are one-sided till an encounter with the Jedi Order proves otherwise.

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: she/her pronouns, mentions of blood

A/N: I hope you like it Anon <3! Requests are still open for Qimir!

“What am I to you, Qimir?” You asked him as you placed your hood over your head, your small bag placed at the side of you, “Whore? Helper? Companion? What other names do you use to describe me to your Acolytes?” 

“This is new for you, my dear,” he chuckled, amused as if you were a child trying to use big words. You were never the one to bite back, you would normally happily accept your role as his right hand. Not now, the years of trying to convince yourself he loved you had your patience growing thin.

“You don’t get to call me that, you seethed. “I’m leaving, Qimir. I can’t be here, knowing you don’t feel the same. I’ll never be more than whatever this is.” 

The Sith stayed silent after that, he merely watched as you accepted your defeat and picked up your things to disappear in the night. 

Tears fell as you walked through the forest, trying to expel memories of late night tangled in sheets and days of trips to the beaches of his favorite planet. He showed you all those wonderful things and touched you in a way you could only imagine, only for it to mean nothing. You wasted years on him. 

Something suddenly felt off, the hair on the back of your neck began to rise and the forest grew silent. Someone was there with you in the forest. A small smile tugged at your lips, he came back for you! You turned around and smiled at the figure that stood in the trees. About to tease him, the figure reached for his belt, a lightsaber igniting. Yellow? 

Before you had the chance to run, the Force knocked you to the ground roughtly. The figure grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. The man frowned “You’re the Force wielder?” he questioned. 

“N-no!” You cried, punching at his arm. 

“The Order keeps sending you to die,” a third voice entered the space, and you could recognize that distorted tone from anywhere. 

The Jedi swiftly turned the two of you to face the Sith standing a few feet away. Dressed in his helmet and cloak, Qimir watched as the Jedi released your hair and placed you in a chokehold with his free arm. The other turned off the saber and placed it on your temple, the heat of the metal making you cry out. 

This Jedi wasn’t like the rest of the ones the Order sent after Qimir, there was something in his eye that screamed rogue. “You either surrender,” the Jedi panted, tightening his grip on your throat and his saber pressing harder to your temple, “or I kill your… Acolyte? Is that what she is to you?” 

“Those are words of a Sith, Jedi, are you sure you’re not on the wrong side?” The Stranger spoke calmly, his voice distorted by his mask. He couldn’t see the fear in your eyes or how the Jedi was starting to bleed from you digging your nails into his forearms. 

You wish you could read him, be able to get inside his head, and know what he’s thinking one last time. Maybe he had some compassion for you because love was out of the question. He was here to kill you before you could get away. The Jedi pressed harder, the metal cutting into your skin. You screamed in pain and he laughed? Amused at what was going on. 

This was it. You heard his finger slide to the trigger. 

Qimir. 

I love you. 

I love you. 

If there’s an afterlife I wish for something kinder. 

You heard the ignition of a lightsaber, and in an instant the grip on your throat released. Then there was a thud, the crunch of leaves and snapping of twigs followed after. You fell to the floor and curled into a ball, heaving for air. Were you dead? Was this the afterlife you were just praying to the Maker for? “Get up,” the distorted voice commanded. You crawled a couple of inches and sat up, pushing your hair out of your face and looking behind you. 

Lying on the ground was the Jedi, a red lightsaber right through the center of his head. Your eyes widened and the last of the tears flowed from your eyes. You watched as Qimir called his saber back to his hand, a perfect circle left in its wake. He pulled you up by the shoulder and hurried you back towards the hideout. 

You walked hurriedly in silence, looking back at the deep forest every now and then to make sure you weren’t followed by anyone else. The Jedi Order had been desperate to capture him since the murder of that one Jedi on Udea. Qimir kept a tight grip on your wrist, you didn’t dare to pull away since he was the only thing keeping you alive. 

That silence remained when you got to the small cabin. He whipped off the mask and threw it violently into the corner. Your body stilled, wondering if you were in for a worse fate than with the Jedi. Qimir killed violently, he’d kill anyone. You were nothing special. Not to him.

He turned to you with fire raging in his eyes, they only softened slightly when he saw the blood trickling from your head, a few drops of crimson landing on your chest. He extended his hand, a small wooden box rushing towards him. He caught it effortlessly and sat on the makeshift bed. “Sit.” 

You did as you were told and took a seat by his side. He went to work bandaging your wound, but you noticed something. Why didn’t he just heal it using the Force? Why was he taking the time for something so futile for a Sith? You also noticed his fingers trembling as he picked up the small scissors among the supplies. He made it halfway to your head before he shakily dropped them into your lap, the fabric of your cloak delicately breaking the fall. Your hands connected as you both reached out to collect them. 

Qimir let go of the scissors and held your hand. “Are you ok?” he asked, all bite vacant in his tone.

“I think so,” you nodded. 

Silence filled the air, and you could feel his stare burn into your skin. He just went back to work, dabbing at the blood and cleaning your skin of dirt and blood. You nearly begged him to say something, anything to release you from the choking silence. 

After the job was done, Qimir stood and collected his supplies, putting everything away silently. Your gaze followed him, you had always wondered how he could act so calm in these situations, you almost admired it. Then he stood in the center of the room, his shoulders hunched and his gaze lingered on the ground, analyzing the cracks in the wood. 

“I didn’t know they we—”

“—I love you.” 

I love you. Those words sounded so foreign to him, he had spoken them once, before the Order and before they took him away. It had been so long—too long. He was embarrassed that it took that long to say to you. Qimir had learned his lesson.

You stood up, the wood creaking below you as you closed some distance between you. “Why tell me now? When I’m about to die at the hands of the Jedi.” 

“I should have told you a long time ago,” he jumped in, his hands flexing, “I heard your thoughts, your pleas. I’m sorry.”

You lifted your chin, “What am I to you, Qimir?” You asked him the same question as earlier, this time you had no fight left. 

The Sith raised his hand and connected it to the side of your face, “I think they would have called it a soulmate?” He pulled you in closer, “I should have never let you feel differently.” 

“Never do that again,” you said bitterly, jabbing your finger into his chest. 

He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting his eyes flutter closed, “Never.”

[taylorman2274]

We Care About You

For the past couple of days, you've been sacrificing sleep to spend more time playing Genshin. The people of Teyvat take notice and do not approve.

Content Warning(s): Liyue Archon Quest Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader; First Story; Inexperienced Writer

Word Count: 1.5k

Previous || Next

---------------------------------------------------------

You honestly should've seen it coming.

There were too many hints that told you what was about to happen, but you either didn't notice them or ignored them entirely.

Now you're about to fall into unconsciousness against your will, all because someone within Teyvat cared about your well-being.

"How is this even possible?" you pondered before you finally fell into sweet unconsciousness.

---------------------------------------------------------

The first hint happened so quick you almost missed it.

You were a couple of minutes removed from logging into the game and had just started working on your second of four daily commissions.

As you were teleporting to Dadaupa Gorge to help Wyatt look for his key, you noticed an unusual message on the loading screen.

Sleep

When night falls, make sure that you get plenty of rest!

You were lucky that you were a fast reader or else you wouldn't have been able to read that message in time.

At first, you didn't know what to think of it. Sure, Hoyoverse could've easily added it into the game, but you didn't see them ever doing such a thing. Additionally, you've never seen anyone else experience this message before.

"Probably something new," you guessed before gliding on down to speak with Wyatt.

---------------------------------------------------------

The second hint was a bit more noticeable than the first.

After completing Wyatt's commission, you were on your way to Falcon Coast to defeat some hilichurls. It was approaching nighttime in Teyvat when Paimon suddenly said:

"It's getting pretty late. Paimon thinks that we should go to bed soon."

You stopped gliding forward for a brief moment in slight surprise. It only took a few seconds for you to snap back to reality before pausing the game to save what airtime you had left.

"I can see a new line of text being possible, but a new voice line?" you contemplated. Like the last hint, you really didn't know what to think of it. If it was only one new voice line that got added into the game, you guess you shouldn't see that as a big surprise.

"Today has certainly been weird," you added before unpausing the game.

---------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't until the third hint that you started to think that something was wrong.

After defeating the two waves of hilichurls, your last commission had you beat up some cryo slimes near the Dawn Winery. You teleported to the Anemo Archon statue, grabbed a couple of Windwheel Asters, and began to glide down to the water.

However, just as you were about to pass the Dawn Winery, you began to hear a sweet melody coming from the building. This wasn't the theme you were used to hearing when you were near the Dawn Winery, so being the curious person you were, you took a quick detour to the building.

As you approached the building, the melody began increasing in volume. Furthermore, as you moved your camera you noticed the sound gradually shifting volume in-between your right and left ears.

"Wait, this isn't just a soundtrack? Someone's actually playing this?" you questioned, speaking aloud for the first time. You rarely speak your thoughts aloud, finding such an action to be awkward, but you felt that the situation warranted such a reaction out of you.

After a bit of wandering and camera movement, you pinpointed the source of the sound coming from the roof. Starting from the front of the building, you climbed up the wall and onto the balcony. You moved the camera around, trying to see if you could get a better view of the roof, and after a while, you found the source of the melody.

Venti the bard was currently straddling the roof beam with his back against the spire right near where the Anemoculus used to be. He had his eyes closed as he was playing the soothing melody on his lyre. If he noticed you, he took no note of it as he continued to play.

"Okay, now things are getting weird," you began to monologue to yourself. "I can somewhat explain a new loading screen message and a new voice line, but a new audio played by a character who is never supposed to be seen outside of archon quests and events? A change as big as this would've surely been advertised by Hoyoverse on social media, right? So why does it feel like I'm the first person to have discovered this? Do I consider this to be a bug or a glitch?"

However, as you continued to think to yourself, Venti continued to play his melody. As the melody dragged on and on, you began to yawn and feel your eyes growing heavy.

"Hold on. Is this melody...making me sleepy?”

Music notes began to fade in and out as they floated from Venti's lyre to your player character.

"I can't fall asleep just yet! I still need to finish my commissions!" you proclaimed before leaping off the balcony and continuing your way down to the beach. "Ooh! I also may need to travel to some domains and farm for materials."

You missed the fourth hint while you jogged away from the winery. Had you looked back at Venti, you would have noticed that he stopped playing the melody before sighing with a slight frown on his face.

---------------------------------------------------------

After completing all of your dailies, you decided to take a change of scenery and meet up with Liyue Katherine.

"I still need to go to Wanmin Restaurant and trigger that Beetle event. Plus, the crafting table is just around the corner for me to craft some Condensed Resin!"

You were too distracted by the crafting table to notice the fifth hint of the day. Had you kept your eye at Third-Round Knockout, you would've noticed the former Geo Archon getting up from his table and walking over to you.

Having finished crafting your Condensed Resin, you began to head over to Wanmin Restaurant. But before you could...

"Traveler! A quick moment of your time, please."

Startled by the sudden attention, you flicked your camera behind you to find Zhongli approaching your player character.

"It has been a while since we last had a chat. I was hoping you would accompany me while I head to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor to retire for the night. We can catch up with each other while we walk."

Too many thoughts were running through your head for you to give a proper response, not that any prompt showed up anyway. Zhongli took your inactivity as a sign of acceptance.

"Good. Let us be on our way then."

Zhongli started to walk past you, which didn't help your thoughts at all.

When his feet hit the ground, there was no visible space between the sole of his shoes and the ground. You never saw any of his clothes clip through any part of his body. In fact, you swear you saw a few wrinkles.

"Everything about him is too detailed. The walking animation, the clothes, the collision, the hitboxes; there is no way in hell everything should be so... fluid."

You started to think whether or not you should go through with his request. However, before you could make a decision, the game decided to make one for you.

The Traveler moved... but your hands were off the keyboard.

"WOAH Woah Woah woah..." You repeated as you backed your chair away from the computer. Now you were starting to think that your game was broken. You quickly scooched your chair back closer to your computer and were about to Alt+F4 outta there before...

"I would refrain from doing that."

You stopped what you were doing and looked up at the screen. Did you miss something that the Traveler did?

"As much as we all love to have you around, we know better than to have you overstay your welcome when you are clearly tired."

...That didn't sound like he was talking to the Traveler.

"I admire your persistence, but you leave me no choice, [Y/N]."

"Oh sh-."

Before you could finish your sentence, a loud buzzing sound suddenly played from your computer speaker. Almost immediately, you could feel yourself about to fade to unconsciousness. You quickly stood up and covered your ears as you tried to fight it, wondering how in the hell this sound was affecting you despite having heard it before in Sumeru. Unfortunately, the noise continued to grow louder and louder until you could no longer stand on your own two feet. You slowly slumped to the floor as the sound began to lower in volume, sensing that its job was done.

You honestly should've seen it coming.

There were too many hints that told you what was about to happen, but you either didn't notice them or ignored them entirely.

Now you're about to fall into unconsciousness against your will, all because someone within Teyvat cared about your well-being.

"How is this even possible?" you pondered before you finally fell into sweet unconsciousness.

---------------------------------------------------------

Author Side Notes: I know that I'm not the best writer in the world, but this idea for a SAGAU story I had continued to grow and grow until I felt like I could connect all of the plot points by myself.

I also have more ideas for SAGAU stories if anyone wants to hear them.

[merletka]

Collaborated with amazing writer @alexcors and illustrated her fanfic about Damian Wayne. You can read it bellow! 💚

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

– Concussion, multiple beatings, fracture of the collarbone, two ribs and the radius of the right arm, with multiple fragments. Do you have anything to say to that, Robin?

– This dealer raised his hand himself, covering his worthless face. What?

– You beat the suspect to a pulp! Batman barked at his son. – No patrols until Cantelli is transferred from the intensive care unit to the general ward.

– But…

– That's all.

Damian clenched his teeth, but at the last moment decided not to fight with his father over a small dealer. Cantelli wasn't worth it. And therefore, having drowned himself, the boy just fell asleep.

***

The morning began with the usual five o'clock wake-up, a workout with pruning the squalid park art that Damian disapproved of in his garden. And he was already tired of explaining to Pennyworth that the enemy could be hiding behind large figures! Then a walk with Titus on a leash, Alfred the cat on his shoulder (because the mustachioed one did not want to wake up in any way) and a red-haired squeaking lump in his hands.

The kitten was dragged by a Red Hood a couple of days ago, startling Damian at first by pronouncing his full name without hesitation (few people in the family could pronounce Hafid ibn Ksufash Dami al Ghul even from the third time), and then by an attack of compassion for the animal. However, the boy quickly recovered from the shock, named the red kitten Roy Harper and now did not miss the opportunity to tease brother with the phrase "You gave me your accomplice, Todd."

By eight in the morning, Damian had time to check on the bat cow, comb Goliath, lose the nimble red Harper and find him sleeping peacefully in the cowshed. In general, Batman's heir successfully redid all his affairs, even phoned each Teen Titan individually and gave valuable instructions. On little things like different time zones, young Wayne habitually waved his hand, and everyone also grabbed a moral slap on the back of the head for trying to be indignant:

– Do it, Beast!

– Buzz me here again, Bug!

– The aliens were not given a word.

– Witch!

Damian belatedly realized that arguing with Raven was not worth it, because the importance of portals to any part of the world is difficult to overestimate. Fortunately, he knew about the weakness of every member of his team, and in Raven's case, it was sweets. Especially his sweets, with honey and spicy notes, which the girl fell in love with from the first bite. He will have to share again… She's definitely a witch!

At nine o'clock sharp, Pennyworth served breakfast, with tea in fine china, brown sugar, a slice of lemon and... an envelope?

- You have received an invitation, Master Damian.

- It's not interesting, - the boy muttered, finished with the meal and dryly told him not to disturb him. He was going to decide the fate of the world here, and they came with some kind of invitations!

However, the plan to destroy all (crossed out) almost all people did not come to mind, but the world itself lay perfectly on paper with watercolor paints, fortunately the view from the window was conducive to this. Up to a certain point.

– Todd!

- Hello to you too, Gremlin, - the Red Hood replied, climbing into his brother's bedroom through the window, while unsuccessfully clinging to the tulle with the toe of his boot.

- Pennyworth will bury you for this.

– Yes, yes, and will plant roses from above. Not that I mind much, but that's not the point right now. Get ready to go out.

Damian took a deep breath and unleashed his entire supply of Arabic obscenities on his brother, knowing full well that Jason would understand him. Unfortunately, the pressure of the negativity did not take him back out the window, he had to take up a katana.

– Put the skewer down, shorty, the meat has just been sent to marinate.

– Will you leave on your own or will you be thrown out in parts?!

– Shut up and listen to me, - Todd barked, casually showing off his pistols with the safety off. – In short, Alfie organizes a family get-together, with meat and without a fight. Dad promised to be, I'll bring a replacement, the Gotham crime storm in a thong will come running himself. You got the simplest thing – to lift your little ass off the chair and walk to the place. You can take the menagerie with you.

- I'm not going to any gatherings with my father," Damian muttered, but he put away his saber. – So you can get out and report your failed mission. I'm not leaving my room today, basically!

- No questions,– Jason agreed surprisingly easily. - But if you walk out the door, you're going to hang out with everyone, okay?

– Tt.

–That's settled,– Jason grinned, ducked out the window and disappeared.

Damian managed to exhale with relief, when suddenly something buzzing flew over the windowsill. Titus reacted first, barking loudly at the wasp's nest rolling on the floor!

- You're dead, Todd! - Damian yelled, unceremoniously grabbing the cat and rushing out the door with him and the dog.

***

- No corpses,– Grayson repeated calmly but firmly (for the fifth time!).

- I'll beat him up so that no Lazarus Pit will help, - the boy grumbled into the phone, the call to which stopped him from righteous revenge.

– Alfred said it clearly, without a fight. Let's get together with the whole family, have a nice time, have a delicious meal.

– Tt.

– We have chosen a picturesque place by the lake, you will like it.

–Okay, - the Batman heir finally gave up. – But only because painting was part of my plans today.

– It's wonderful, – judging by the sound, Dick broke into his trademark smile. – You will draw a beautiful landscape.

– I'll paint it! Artists paint with paints, you idiot.

– And I love you, little brother.

– Tt.

Author: @alexcors

[illbegottenfaith]

walking away with your kiss on my cheek...

your relationship with theo starts to sour as you begin to suspect him of keeping secrets from you (theo nott x reader)

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - first part of a two-shot I've written! Ngl this thing has gone through wayyy too many drafts and revisions so it’s barely an u healthy relationship, more like unhealthy coping mechanisms, but I have a couple of slightly more intense takes on the trope lined up as well :)

tropes/warnings - mildly (veryyy mildly) toxic/unhealthy relationship descriptions, established relationship, mentions of infidelity, miscommunication, angst

word count - 1.9k

When it came to love languages, Theodore Nott’s was distance. Many of his past relationships had failed once he'd deemed them too suffocating. Nobody had suited him quite like you did. The two of you had somehow stumbled into a mutual understanding of what you wanted out of a relationship. Some considered what you shared too casual to be considered a relationship. You had your separate schedules and commitments, and in your downtime, you kept one another company.

But it worked for the two of you. The best relationships are built between people on the same page, and your perfectly aligned perspectives made the little time you spent together that much sweeter. In fact, things had been going along swimmingly until Katherine entered the picture.

She, or at least the idea of her, entered your life one foggy morning. You were dead on your feet. The aconite you had been tending to as part of your Herbology project demanded your every waking moment outside of your classes. You were just about to fall asleep into your soft-looking, pillowy scrambled eggs when Ivy half-yelled into your ear, as she was prone to doing.

"Didn't know Theo got a new girlfriend!"

Your head snapped up and you groaned. Okay, maybe she wasn't yelling as much as everything sounded ten times louder with that throbbing behind your right temple. You blinked blearily at your friend.

"Huh?"

"Someone's been spending an awful lot of time with Katherine."

It took you a moment to register that you had no idea who Ivy was talking about.

"Katherine Sawyer," she repeated. "Theo's been getting pretty cosy with her, hasn't he?"

Something must have shown on your face, because she immediately dropped the suggestive lilt to her voice.

"I mean - I'm only kidding. It's just that I saw them in the library again last night for, like, the third time this week. I thought you knew." She peered closer at your dark eye bags. "Damn. Are you getting any sleep?"

You shook yourself out of the shock and gave a small smile. "Of course I knew," you lied. If being with Theo had taught you anything, it was how to lie convincingly. "I'm exhausted, that's all."

"Yeah, you look it," Ivy agreed sympathetically. "But really, I was kidding. It's not like he'd do anything. Not Theo."

"Right." You smoothly changed the subject. "So how's your project coming along?"

Still, it bothered you for the rest of the day. Why hadn't he told you about Katherine? He knew you weren't the jealous type, especially when it came to perfectly innocent interactions with the opposite sex. Unless there was a reason for him to keep it from you. You had thought that neither of you was the type to keep secrets from the other, but maybe you had thought wrong. And if he hadn't told you about Katherine, well, what else was he not telling you about?

You dismissed the thought. You were too sleep-deprived for this. It just wasn't like him. Theo would never pursue another girl, not while he already had one on his arm.

Right?

These thoughts were still circulating in your head when you found him reading in the Slytherin common room that evening. You approached him as you always did, but something about what Ivy had said that morning made you hesitate. He didn't look up from his well-worn copy of The Divine Comedy in the original Italian until he felt you sink into the couch beside him. He gave you a strange look before pulling you into his lap, nestling his head in the crook of your neck, the way the two of you usually curled up together when one of you was reading.

"Don't be going shy on me now," he teased lightly. You shushed him, tapping the paperback. As you settled your head on his shoulder, he glanced at your face. "You look tired," he noted quietly. You pulled a face.

"Who knew aconite could be such a bitch?"

Theo turned the page. "I knew. I'd say I told you so, but - ow."

You had sharply tugged at the short hairs at the nape of his neck as a warning. You laughed softly as you ran a soothing thumb over the mildly irritated skin, kissing it better. It was moments like these that made it difficult to harbor any sort of suspicion or resentment towards your boyfriend. As moody and mysterious as he liked to come off, to you he was an open book.

But he still hadn't told you about Katherine.

A few weeks later, Theo and a few others were about to leave for a two-week cultural exchange trip to Durmstrang's. Ivy had dragged you down to the Great Hall where everyone was saying their goodbyes, before disappearing into the crowd in search of Ivan.

Somewhat reluctantly, you walked up to your own boyfriend. Between his trip preparations and your Herbology project, the two of you hadn’t had a minute together for the past week and a half, a new record, even for a relationship as casual as yours.

“Got everything?”

Theo nodded. In his soft, fitted navy blue sweatshirt pushed halfway up his forearms, he looked effortlessly put together. You weren’t scruffy yourself, either. That was why you had any kind of relationship at all, wasn’t it? The two of you made an attractive couple, at least when you acted like one.

You looked over at Ivy, whose boyfriend was humoring a much sappier farewell than yours and Theo's. Scratch that, Ivan lived for Ivy's oddities and eccentricities. Right now, Ivy was kicking a fuss over a fortnight being simply too long of a time to be apart while Ivan promised to call every single night. Occasionally, you had wondered what it would feel like to be in a relationship like theirs, where two weeks apart would be nothing short of agony rather than routine.

As you turned back, you noticed Theo had been following your gaze. He cleared his throat delicately.

"So...two weeks."

"Mhm." You weren't the type of couple to explicitly express affection, especially of the vulnerable kind. You'd miss him, of course, even if you didn't say it. Would he miss you? You shook your head internally. No, you decided, you wouldn't ask. You'd only seem clingy and that wasn't the kind of couple you were. "Be good, have fun."

He adjusted the strap of his duffle bag. You fixed the collar of his jacket. You wondered if he'd tell you about Katherine before he left. From somewhere else in the Great Hall, one of his friends called him over. He pressed a final chaste kiss to your cheek. You watched him walk away with a hollow sort of feeling in your stomach. Merlin forbid you express any kind of attachment to your boyfriend.

He glanced back at you one last time, fidgeting with the strap of his bag, and just like that, he was gone.

Gone.

He didn't say a word about Katherine.

As the two weeks crawled by achingly slow, you tried to convince yourself that you didn't feel the lack of Theo. You had gone longer without talking to him. Hell, before you started dating, you'd only occasionally meet through mutual friends.

But you had never spent time apart feeling this acrid bitterness towards him.

Unbeknownst to you, your friends had picked up on your frutration, especially in the way you had thrown yourself into your work with renewed vigour, doing your best to keep conversations from straying to topics related to Theo.

"I'm going to the owlery to check for letters from Ivan," Ivy was saying one evening, pulling a woollen hat onto her head. "Wanna come with?"

You barely spared her a glance, writing carefully. "Can't. I have this essay to finish."

Ivy deflated visibly. "Don't you want to see if you have anything from Theo?”

You shrugged. You couldn’t be disappointed if you didn’t expect anything.

“Have you heard from him at all?” Ivy pressed.

You gave her a warning look. “Ivy. Stay out of it.”

“Come on, Y/N. Why don’t you call him? I'm sure he misses you."

You laughed derisively, nearly stabbing a hole in the parchment. You might have done that any other time, but you were too mad about his imaginary affair with Katherine.

“Miss me? Theo doesn’t miss me.”

“How can you be so sure? You don’t know what he’s-“

“Because if he missed me,” you finally snapped, "he’d call. Or send me an owl. But he hasn't, alright? He hasn't called and I haven't gone to the owlery because no one's missing anybody. He's doing perfectly fine without me, just as I'm doing perfectly fine without him."

No one's missing anybody.

Tears prickled behind your eyes. You stubbornly watched Ivy turn blurrier and blurrier as you failed to blink them back. Your gaze landed on your essay, and the spots where your tears had caused the ink to run. Your essay was ruined.

You pressed a trembling hand to your eyes as you finally caved in, a pair of warm, comforting hands almost immediately coming to rest on your shaking shoulders. As miserable as you had been, you hadn't acknowledged the pain, let alone how it was eating away at you. Once you started crying, it was as though you didn't know how to stop.

“Why won’t he call, Ivy?” you choked out. "Doesn't he think about me?"

"Of course he does," Ivy soothed. "He's probably just insanely busy."

You sniffled. "How busy can a person be? One phone call, one letter, anything - is that really too much to ask?"

Ivy hesitated. The silence stretched out between you like the confirmation of a truth neither of you wanted to admit. She said it anyway.

“Maybe he thinks you don’t need that from him."

You laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Well, he got that part right.”

You sounded ridiculous even to your own ears. It was a testament to your friendship that Ivy didn’t try to argue with you. She gave your shoulder one last squeeze before standing, her footsteps soft as she made her way to the door. “I’m going to the owlery,” she said, lingering for a moment. “If there’s anything for you -"

"- burn it."

" - I’ll bring it back.”

You focused on the ruined essay in front of you. Messy smudges had formed where your tears had fallen. It was beyond repair, much like the knot in your chest that no amount of rationalising seemed to untangle.

As the door closed behind Ivy, an unbearable silence descended upon your dorm. You pressed your hands against your temples, willing yourself to stop thinking about him, about how easy it seemed for Theo to carry on without you. Maybe that was the worst part—the inescapable realisation that you weren’t half as essential to him as he was to you.

You stared at the blurred words on the parchment, feeling the ache settle deeper into your chest. There was no scintillating revelation, no blinding eureka moment. Just the quiet, gnawing thought that maybe this was all you’d ever be to him—an afterthought.

And maybe, you thought bitterly, crumpling your essay, you deserved it for letting yourself believe otherwise.

Part 2

[luviestarz]

lee haechan fic recs!

❤︎ I LIKE YOU (I DO) (L.DH) - @domjaehyun (stoner!haechan just wants you to know how much he likes you.)

❤︎ paperclip - @smileysuh (yandere, ex bf! hyuck)

❤︎ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)

❤︎ kiss it better - @yeow6n (haechan gets hurt but you know that with him it’s not going to be as simple as putting a band-aid on it)

❤︎ sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH - @haechwrites (prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.)

❤︎ bus stop - @ooshu (haechan rides the bus. you hop on the same ride. minutes later, you two were a couple. he never questioned why.)

❤︎ strawberries & cigarettes - @hyudior (the art school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee donghyuck decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.)

❤︎ >> take my breath - @hyuckwrlds

❤︎ moles ♡‧₊˚ lee haechan - @sleeping-sirens (you read something on the internet that made you feel jealous of a person you didn’t even know but haechan knows just how to reassure you.)

❤︎ haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby - @hyuckmov (he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flicking his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggle up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction.)

❤︎ eyes tell - @tonicandjins (donghyuck has been trying to confess his feelings to you. third time's the charm, he thinks.)

❤︎ going below zero | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (Considering how much Haechan makes it his personal mission to antagonize you at work, it seems like a rather cruel twist of fate that the both of you have been side by side since middle school, the only consolation being that his office is a different floor from yours. But if there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with him might just be the opposite, and it’ll take a family ski holiday to find out.)

❤︎ take my breath. - @sixzeroes (lee donghyuck did not believe in ‘love at first sight.’ key word: did. he does now, but only because you happened to fall into his arms on the icy road in the narrow streets. you’re going to render him breathless from the countless times your smile takes his breath away.)

❤︎ ice cream thief [ l.dh ] - @tddyhyck (someone has been eating haechan's favorite ice cream so he decides to put a hidden camera in the kitchen and living room thinking it's a shared space it shouldn't invade anyone's privacy... right?)

❤︎ tease | lee haechan - @hyuckiefluff (Playing spin the bottle definitely wasn't what you had envisioned for your first college party. And the last person you expected to see was Lee Haechan. But life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you, and this time it came in the form of the bottle landing on some drunk dude who dared you to kiss Haechan.)

❤︎ 𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁸⁺ - @goldyeokki (you and lee donghyuck both get along like oil and water. if it were up to you, you would be going about your days without even breathing in his direction. unfortunately you're in the same friend group and you have to tolerate each other. as handsome or attractive as people claim him to be, you hate his guts. there's so many reasons why you hate him, so why do you get butterflies in your stomach when he's near?)

❤︎ high (with my lover) [m] – l.dh - @yeonghosins (y/n smokes up with donghyuck for the first time)

❤︎ what the puck! - @choerrypuffs (you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue.)

❤︎ double take | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (friends to lovers, highschool au, slowburn, fluff, angst)

❤︎ Your Red Lipstick || L.DH - @ihaechans (Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.)

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

[girlgenius1111]

close to you part two

alexia putellas x leila ouahabi x jenni hermoso x reader a third installment of the orgy fic: rush by @vixwritesagain [all chapters + all OOYG chapters linked on her masterlist] r and alexia continue to dance around each other, despite the... meddling from jenni and leila. 18+ for light smut and lots of sunscreen

—

Groceries stocked (and overstocked, if you asked her), Jenni stepped outside and slid the door closed behind her. 

“You seem relaxed.” She purred sarcastically. 

Alexia had migrated to the shade, flicking through the pages of a book without really taking anything in. 

“No.” Alexia snapped, pulling her sunglasses down. “You left me here.” 

“I did.” Jenni grinned, strolling along the path to stop in front of the shaded lounger.  “What happened?” 

Even though Alexia stayed silent, Jenni grinned wider at the cool stare she knew was being aimed in her direction. 

“Nothing? Not even when she saw you in this tiny little thing?” Jenni leaned over her girlfriend, running a hand over Alexia’s bare thigh until it reached the red ties of her swimsuit. 

A sharp slap to her knuckles gave her pause. 

“Don’t touch. I’m burnt.” Alexia growled, lifting her book higher. 

“You don’t look burnt.” 

“You left me here without even sunscreening my back, Jennifer.” 

Jenni froze, trying to read Alexia’s half hidden face. “What happened, mi amor? Did you talk to her?” 

With a dramatic slam of her book, Alexia sat up and swung her legs to the ground. Jenni had only enough time to pull back and watch her girlfriend storm back into the villa. 

It wasn’t that she wanted Alexia grumpy, just that it was so fucking hot when she was pissy. Couple that with the sight of her perfect ass in a bikini, and Jenni lasted all of thirty seconds before following her. 

Catching up with her in their bedroom, the striker shut the door courteously before watching as Alexia lay herself down on the hardwood floor. 

“Ale?” 

“Go away.” The midfielder huffed.

Jenni didn’t even try to hide the roll of her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold. Feels good on my burns.”

“I have aftersun in my suitcase. Let me help.” 

“No!” Alexia hissed, rolling stubbornly onto her stomach. “No touching for you.”

“Alexia-”

“You left me, Jenni! I will never forgive you.”

“Alexia, I thought maybe if you two had some time alone it’d be easier-” 

Jenni was stunned into silence when Alexia jumped to her feet in an instant, then froze completely. 

“Ale? I thought it might be easier for you to-”

“Shh!” Alexia hissed, snapping her furrowed brow to face her girlfriend. 

Jenni had taken a sharp breath to argue right back when she heard it too. 

–

Leila already had you on your back, her lips making a slow descent down your now bare body, when she heard the door slam shut. A moment later, it opened again, then closed much more quietly this time. She grinned against your hip bone, leaving a final kiss there before ghosting her fingers over your swim suit bottoms. 

“Leila, please go faster,” you whined, already embarrassingly worked up from your girlfriend’s hands all over you, and your hands all over Alexia earlier. You thought of her back, taut muscles and smooth, soft skin. You thought of the red bikini, and the way it looked on her when she’d walked away from you. 

Hooking a finger under the waistband, Leila tugged your bottoms down and off your legs, humming happily when she lowered her cheek to rest against your thigh. It gave her a perfect view, especially as her fingers brushed over your glistening core. You were wet, very clearly affected by the events of the day. You squirmed when Leila’s hand spread you wider, letting her thumb gather a bit of wetness before dragging up to your clit. 

You felt like every one of your nerves was on fire, the agonizing anticipation of wanting Alexia and getting none of her driving you crazy. You’d been worked up since you’d arrived, maybe even since you boarded the plane, and no matter what you did to get rid of the ache, it stuck around. 

You were over the teasing, even if it had only been going on for a few minutes. You needed more this instant, or you were sure you’d explode. 

“Lei-”

Before the word was even out of your mouth, Leila was flicking her thumb over your clit, her touch no longer ghosting against you. Now, she touched you with purpose, rubbing and pressing in just the right way. Her hand drifted down, finding you more than wet enough for one of her fingers to slide easily inside, only needing a few gentle thrusts of her hand before a second finger eased itself in. 

You pressed your hand over your mouth,  not wanting the loud groan in your throat to escape. Partly because it felt much too soon for you to be reacting like this, and also because you were well aware you weren’t alone in the villa. 

As soon as your hand clapped over your face, though, muffling a sound Leila wanted to hear more than anything, she stopped. 

Her touch disappeared, and you snapped your head up fast enough to give you whiplash, torn between annoyance and desperation. Leila was grinning up at you, though, with not a care in the world. 

“Let them hear you. Let her hear you. Show her what she’s missing.” Leila whispered. 

And with the knowledge that both Jenni and Alexia were well within hearing distance, you let your head fall back onto the bed, an unrestrained moan falling from your lips as Leila’s mouth connected with you again.

-

Jenni watched the full spectrum of emotions flutter across her girlfriend’s face before it settled into a frown after one particularly pointed moan. 

“We could…” Jenni trailed off tilting her head towards the door. 

Alexia’s pout only intensified. She reached up and tugged at the ties of her bikini, letting the top fall to the floor. Bottoms next, also discarded in a crumpled heap. 

Jenni lifted an eyebrow. 

“I’m going in the shower.” 

The captain made it three steps before she was lifted and dropped unceremoniously on clean bed sheets. The noises were louder from there, frequent and undeniable. 

“Are you sure? You want to go and touch yourself in the shower and listen to her scream for someone else?” Jenni kneed her way onto the mattress, prowling over bare skin before stilling just above. 

Alexia stared up at her, jaw set. 

Matching her serious expression, Jenni pushed Alexia’s hair back from her face. “Do you want me to ask them, amor? I can text her now.”  

Jenni wanted to kiss away her girlfriend’s grumpy pout, but Alexia shaking her head like a toddler made it difficult. “No. She’ll ask for me.”

“So stubborn.” Jenni teased, leaning down to ghost her lips over Alexia’s. “You’re sure?” 

“Sí.” 

“Fine. Go shower, then.” Rolling over into the empty space, Jenni quickly stripped her shirt off. 

As she stood up and began shimmying her shorts down, Alexia followed her every move. It wasn’t till Jenni reached into their suitcase and started throwing toys on the bed that Alexia sat up. “What are you doing?” 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to join them without you. I know you’re too sunburnt to touch. So I’ll just be here. Enjoy your shower.” Jenni lay back down, picking up one of the vibrators. 

Alexia didn’t move a muscle, but her stare was intense. 

In the silence, the noises from the bedroom across the hall were so loud - “yes!” and “fuck!” and the kind of moans which made Jenni shiver.  She pressed a hand into her panties, exhaling at the first brush of contact before turning to her frozen girlfriend. “Did you want to watch, or-ooft!”

Jenni only just moved her hand in time to avoid the squish when Alexia straddled her waist. 

The striker’s hands remained down on the bed, showing an enormous amount of restraint. Especially when Alexia leaned down. 

“Venga, Jenni. Tócame.” The midfielder demanded, using her position above Jenni to her advantage. Or so she thought. 

Jenni hummed, finally lifting one of her hands up off the bed only to push Alexia’s hair out of her face. “I shouldn’t. You are burnt, no? I don’t want to make it worse.” Jenni told her, an overly sympathetic look on her face. 

Alexia glared down at her, grabbing at one of her girlfriend’s hands and trying to pull it to rest on her hip. Infuriatingly, Jenni continued to smile, pulling her hands away with ease and resting them behind her head. The blonde’s death stare didn’t really seem to be doing much, and Alexia sighed, moving to climb off Jenni’s lap, determined to do it herself if she had to. 

Before she could fully remove herself, though, Jenni’s hand moved between her legs, lightly dragging over Alexia’s core. The blonde inhaled sharply, turning back triumphantly to her girlfriend, thinking she’d won. 

“You are wet, though, amor. That must be uncomfortable.” 

The smirk on Jenni’s lips told Alexia she had to play along, or she wouldn’t be getting anything she wanted. And as easy as it would have been to grab a vibrator off the bed and slip into the bathroom, she couldn’t do it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get off the way she wanted to. Not even with the sounds coming from the bedroom next door, not with Jenni so close. 

Still, it wasn’t easy. Alexia remained frozen for a moment debating. 

“Jesus, Lei,” your voice rang out, likely audible from anywhere in the house. Only after hearing you did Alexia unfreeze, an unmistakable spark of competitiveness now shining in her eyes. 

“Do something about it.” A raised eyebrow, a challenge extended - just because Alexia knew what she needed didn’t mean she’d give in easily. She knew Jenni didn’t want her to either, because Jenni was just as stubborn. 

“I’d love to, but you’re so burnt. It’s probably better if you’re on top.” Jenni tried to school her smirk, but the corners of her mouth were infuriatingly curled. 

Alexia frowned, staring hard at her girlfriend and trying to block out the fervent moans bleeding through the walls. She’d grown used to being under Jenni. While it wasn’t her natural position, being strong armed into submission was addictive. She’d come to crave the way Jenni would manipulate her body and make it take over and over. “I… can top?” 

Alexia shivered at the faintest hint of her touch as Jenni once again dragged long fingers through her wetness. The striker chuckled, leaning up to nuzzle the soft skin of Alexia’s neck. “Definitely not. But you can be on top.”

Once again, Alexia froze. 

Pressing her lips to her collarbone, Jenni curved her hand around her waist to keep her close. She hid her smile at the desperate buck of Alexia’s hips, knowing that she’d played her hand well. “That, or you can get off alone in the shower. I know which I’d prefer. I’d even let you sit on my face as a warm-up.”

__

“Fuck, Lei,” you panted blinking up at the ceiling. 

Your fingers drew lazy patterns against her lower back, drawing out aftershocks which made her shiver and keen. She still straddled your leg. You could feel her grin where her face was pressed against your neck.  “Fuck,” she agreed. 

You were only given half a minute of listening to the fan of the AC and her slowing breaths, before you heard the first sound. Quiet and muffled. You wouldn’t have paid any mind if Leila didn’t sit up inquisitively. 

Her brow furrowed, then the second noise. 

Leila’s eyes met yours immediately. “They’re…” she trailed off. 

As the seconds ticked by and Leila’s expression only grew more excited, you wondered if you were missing the sounds. Then a moan so loud you sat up too. 

“Should we…” Leila whispered, tilting her head towards the hallway door.

As tempting as it was, you stroked over her thigh before sighing, “No, babe. They didn’t interrupt us. And we all know you’re the loudest moaner in this house. ”

Leila’s playful pout made your chest tighten. “I don’t know, you can be loud too.” 

“Exactly,” you brushed off, “so they definitely heard us and still didn’t come in.”

Leila chuckled, nodding along. “You’re sure you don’t want to go to them, bebé?” At the shake of your head, your girlfriend wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “Want to keep going with me instead?” 

“Later,” You promised, doing the same to her waist, “Maybe food first? They’ll be hungry after.”

“Maybe they’ll eat you on the table.” Leaning in, Leila kissed you deeply before pulling away just a fraction. “Or maybe I will.” 

–

Alexia stretched out lazily as she watched Jenni - still half naked - move around their room. 

“This one?” The striker called, holding up a dildo from the suitcase. 

“Si, any. Hurry up.” Alexia muttered, though any irritation she held towards her girlfriend had been all but erased in the aftermath of her first orgasm. Just to tease, Alexia slid her hand down between her legs. 

Jenni’s piercing glare gave her pause, now holding up two dildos. “No. You choose.” 

It was one thing for the captain to take it, another entirely to admit to wanting it. Alexia rolled over so she didn’t have to feel her cheeks heat up when she replied. “Pink.”

She was ready to feel Jenni’s warm hands stroking her back, pushing and pulling until she was in the perfect position. Instead, the bed dipped to her side and gentle fingers worked through her hair. She waited a few seconds before humming her confusion. 

“Ready?” Jenni asked patiently. 

Alexia twisted to look at her, lying perfectly relaxed against the pillows despite the harness tight against her hips. 

Jenni stroked the toy casually, keeping her voice even. “Your burn, Ale. You’re on top. Remember?” 

“Pero…” Alexia started, before blushing further. She sat up to her knees, suddenly feeling very bare indeed. 

“But?” Jenni teased, though her fingers trailed down to catch Alexia’s hand. She lifted it to her mouth, kissing at the knuckles before turning the palm against her cheek. “You enjoyed riding my face, no?” 

 “Sí, but…” Alexia grumbled, putting on her very best puppy dog eyes in a last-ditch attempt. 

Unfortunately, Jenni’s pout was just as well-trained. “I could hold you down again, amor. But what I really want is to see you enjoy it. And I can’t do that when you’re on your stomach.”  

“On my back, then.” 

“Your back is burnt, no?”

Alexia squeezed her jaw stubbornly. 

When she made no move, Jenni’s signature grin grew slowly.  “Like this.”

“I want to come. No punishment.” Alexia bargained. 

Jenni turned her face to kiss at her girlfriend’s palm before reaching for her thighs. “Hurry up and I’ll let you come twice.”

-

It was a good thing Leila could cook because you were completely and utterly useless that evening. Ignoring the increasingly loud noises coming from the bedroom was impossible, but your girlfriend did well to set out the ingredients and give you seemingly simple tasks. With each one, Leila would even pretend you’d done a fine job before stepping in to speed things along. It wasn’t until the knife you were meant to be using to chop peppers only narrowly missed your finger that she took that from you too. 

“Sit,” she ordered before laying into the vegetable. 

It was so much worse then. The vision of her, dancing her way around the kitchen with her hair scraped back in a messy bun punctuated by all kinds of sounds. Their words were muffled, but the grunts and moans and slaps and bangs of the bed hitting against the wall? All loud. 

“They’re going to damage the house,” you grumbled.

Leila chuckled, shaking her head as she offered you a piece from the chopping board. “Hmm. Maybe they should have used this counter. Much more stable.” 

The sounds continued through the rest of dinner prep, which felt like an eternity just sitting and listening, though was probably not long at all. Leila cooked quickly, alternating between smiling at you when she heard the bed banging against the wall  and frowning in concentration at the food in front of her. She was thrilled, you could tell, but that was not the word you would have assigned to your own feelings in the moment. 

“They’re so loud tonight,” Leila commented as she placed a full plate in front of you. “Alexia… wow.” 

Your emotions were hard to swallow down. “Dinner will get cold.” 

“They can use the microwave.” 

“Maybe I should shout on them.” 

“Alexia would come running,” Leila sniggered.

“It’s not fair. You cooked for us, the least they could do is be here and eat it while it’s hot.” 

The most infuriating thing about Leila was her ability to see right through you. “Hmm, what could have happened to make you so grumpy after a very fun afternoon?” 

“Maybe we should go back upstairs.” 

“Sí? And let dinner get cold?” 

“It’ll reheat.” 

Leila grinned and picked up her fork. “Eat, bebè. I don’t want to hear your stomach singing.” 

“Rumbling,” you corrected as a particularly rapturous moan rang out, “my stomach rumbles.” 

“So grumpy.” 

__

You were all too aware when quiet finally fell. You and Leila shared a look before finishing the last of your plate, and clearing it away. 

She’d just poured you another round of drinks when the door squeaked open. 

“Hi,” Leila greeted as Alexia timidly made her way downstairs. Jenni followed ten seconds later, moving far more energetically. Jenni’s grin was triumphant, and you desperately wished that you could get her alone to get to the bottom of it. 

“Did you cook? Sorry we’re late,” the striker began, brushing up against her girlfriend and kissing her shoulder. 

Alexia’s hands immediately circled Jenni’s forearms. As Leila dived into her master cheffing, you took in their disheveled appearance. Despite the messy hair and the crumpled, loose clothes, they were glowing. Happy. 

You tried to push down the jealousy as you busied yourself prepping their plates for the microwave. 

—