#Men Jacket Looks For New Year
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Attention-Grabbing Jacket Looks for Men to Flaunt This New Yearâs Eve
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If you are on the lookout for some great jacket looks to get all the attention this New Yearâs
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protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in
âi know! and thatâs when i told her-â you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. âhey, iâm going to have to call you back.â you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartmentâs lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.
âcome on, pick up.â you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.
ââello?â
âsi- simon, itâs me.â
âi know, lovie. thatâs why i picked up.â you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.
âwhatâs wrong?â his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. âi donât want to bother you butâ you hiccupped. shit. âbut my apartment door was open and iâm pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i donât know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.â there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.
âgo to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. iâll be there in 15.â
9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.
suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didnât even realize you were crying.
ââs okay, baby. iâm here now. give me your keys.â you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. âstay here. iâll be back.â you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadnât told him your new apartment number.
twenty minutes passed. simonâs presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simonâs safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.
âyouâre stayinâ with me tonight.â he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasnât even winded. âthank you simon, but donât be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.â he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. âconsider it payment then.â he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. âone way or another, youâre in my bed tonight, dove.â you gulped at that. âand iâve got riley in the car. you wouldnât abandon him, would you?â of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.
âyou win.â
fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simonâs, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. âheâs in my spot.â you gestured to your cat on the couch. âwhaâ dâya mean?â your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.
âmy couch for tonight.â simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. âtoldâya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.â you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.
âdonât be silly, simon. that would cross a line.â
âwhat line?â his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.
âweâre not together anymore, simon.â
âyouâre still my wife.â
silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually youâd fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.
âwhat.â you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. âyouâre as beautiful as the day i lost you.â your fire went out at that. âyouâre just trying to get me naked.â you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.
âcould see you in a thousand layers and youâd still be the most beautiful person iâve ever seen, dove.â ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. âwhen did you get the tattoo?â you asked in the dark.
â3 months and 12 days ago.â what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. âcan we talk about it in the morning?â you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. âalways, dove.â he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.
----
idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley wife#ghost call of duty#tornadothoughts#ex husband ghost#fluff
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Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious
Summary: People would tell you that geniuses don't know everything, but you tell them that defeats the purpose of the word. Until one day you're proven wrong.
Word Count: 17.4k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: i came up with this idea a few days ago and had to write it down. basically reader is a genius and her mutation is controlling nature (her code name is 'flora' but it's not used often. and yes, it's a winx club reference, sue me)
i tried to make it as inclusive as i could, but i'm still learning since this is only my second reader fic.
i would like to turn this into a oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests!
warnings: few uses of y/n, logan uses a lot of pet names for reader, slight innocent!reader
You had only been at the X-Mansion for a year and yet all the students seemed to love you. At first, you thought that no teenager would want to come out to the large greenhouse you had set up, but you were proven wrong.
At the end of every day, right before dinner, dozens of kids would come out and help you water the plants and pull out the weeds.
It was certainly not what you expected to do after college, especially after only having your PhDâs for 2 years. It had all started when you met Hank McCoy at a science conference in New York City. You had graduated a mere few weeks ago and were out trying to network when you met him.
After that, Hank took you to meet Charles Xavier and he offered you a two-sided job, teach a few classes and be part of the X-Men, after you went through some training. You didnât know how to fight at the beginning, but now you think youâve got the hang of it.
You had just finished teaching your advanced physics class, standing at your desk gathering up the papers before going to your office to grade them, when someone knocked on the open classroom door.
Logan stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that usual smirk tugging at his lips. âYou done for the day, sweetheart?â
You looked up from the pile of papers, surprised to see him there, though you probably shouldnât have been. Logan had this way of showing up whenever you least expected it, always with some sort of pet name that left your students giggling.
When you first arrived at the school and started your training, it was Logan and Ororo who helped you learn how to fight. You certainly were not on a level like Logan, but you now knew how to hold your own without completely relying on your powers.
Logan was probably the one you were closest to at the mansion, save for Ororo and Jean. You enjoyed his company, even in the late nights when you would tend to the plants and he would stand quietly nearby smoking a cigar.
âJust about,â you replied, straightening the stack. âI was going to head to my office and grade these. Why? You need something?â
Logan pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots thudding lightly against the floor. âCanât a guy just drop by and check in on ya?â
You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. âI guess, but somehow I doubt youâre just here to âcheck in.ââ You shuffled the papers into a neat stack, slipping them into a folder. âSo, whatâs up?â
Logan shrugged, hands now in his jacket pockets as he stood a few feet away from your desk. âYouâve been buried in books and papers all week. Thought you could use a break.â
You raised an eyebrow. âIâll be done grading these in like an hour. It doesnât take me long. Unlike someone else.â
Logan snorted, a small smile forming as he tilted his head at you. "Yeah, well, not all of us have two fancy PhDs and can finish things in a blink, darlinâ."
You laughed softly, putting the papers into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. âYouâre just mad because I keep proving Iâm right.â You rounded your desk, smirking. âPlus, Iâm having a movie night with Jean and Ororo. See? I can take breaks.â
Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he leaned in just a little, casting you that knowing look he always had when he was teasing you. âMovie night, huh? Lemme guessâsomething boring and science-y?â
You scoffed, shaking your head as you zipped up your bag. âNot every movie night is a science documentary, Logan.â
âMmhmm,â he replied, the teasing drawl in his voice making it clear he didnât believe you for a second. âSo, what are you watchinâ, then? Some quantum physics thriller?â
You rolled your eyes, grinning. âItâs The Princess Diaries this time, actually. But I do like documentaries, so donât knock them.â
Logan chuckled, the sound low and deep, and for a moment it made you forget the pile of grading still waiting for you. âIâll let it slide this time, darlinâ. But if I hear you talkinâ about how accurate the physics are in some movie during your âbreak,â Iâm dragging you out of that mansion myself.â
You gave him a mock-serious look. âYou wouldnât dare.â
âOh, I would,â he shot back, his smirk widening. âAnd we both know I could.â
You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasnât wrong. Logan had a way of just picking you upâliterallyâand dragging you away when he thought youâd been working too hard. Sometimes you suspected he enjoyed it a little too much.
Before you could retort, Logan's expression softened slightly. âLook, Y/N, Iâm serious. Youâve been bustinâ your ass all week. Go take a real break tonight, will ya?â
There it was again. That rare softness he showed only to you, like the tough exterior melted away for just a second. You never really knew how to respond when he got like that, so you shrugged casually and smiled. âIâll take it easy tonight. Promise.â
âGood,â he said, his voice gruff but warm. ââCause I donât wanna hear about you passinâ out from exhaustion or whatever it is geniuses do when they work themselves to death.â
You walked to the door and turned back to face him, âEinstein slept 10 hours during the night and took regular naps.â You gave him a wink and walked down the hall towards your office, a satisfied smirk on your face.
Logan watched you disappear down the hallway, shaking his head with a faint smile. He wasn't sure when it started, but something about your energy, the way you threw yourself into everythingâwhether it was the students, your research, or even the X-Men's missionsâhad caught his attention. And now, it was hard to get you out of his head, let alone his senses.
He could always tell when you were nearby or recently in an areaâyour perfume was inherently you, mango with an undercurrent of something woodsy. And you always looked cute, a word Logan thought heâd never use. You constantly wore colors, usually pastels in varying shades, whether it be a shirt, your shoes, or even accessories in your hair. It was almost ridiculous how someone with two PhDs and the kind of brain that could out-think just about everyone around her could be so oblivious to certain things.
And that was why he found you so fascinating.
You were brilliant, no doubt about itâalways talking about equations, theories, and whatever else youâd been reading about. But somehow, you never seemed to notice when he was flirting with you, which had become Logan's new favorite game. He knew exactly what he was doing when he called you varying nicknames.
It wasnât like it was a secret either; pretty much everyone at the mansion had picked up on it. Hell, even the students were in on it, giggling whenever Logan tossed a pet name your way or gave you one of those half-smirks that drove everyone else insane.
Everyone except you, apparently.
You walked down the hall, completely unaware of the looks you were getting, or the fact that Loganâs eyes lingered a bit longer than they should have as you disappeared around the corner. Shaking his head, he let out a low chuckle before heading toward the garage. Maybe a ride on his bike would clear his head, though it probably wouldnât. You had a way of sticking in his mind, even when you werenât around.
---
Later that night, you were sprawled on the couch in one of the common rooms, sandwiched between Jean and Ororo as the three of you laughed at the antics on screen. The Princess Diaries was playing, and though youâd seen it a dozen times, it never failed to make you laugh.
You had your hair tied up and off your neck, and you were dressed in one of your usual casual outfitsâleggings and an oversized hoodie that probably belonged to one of the guys in the mansion, though you couldnât remember who. Loganâs scent faintly lingered on it, but you didn't think much of it.
You shifted comfortably, pulling your legs up to curl under you as Jean and Ororo sat on either side, each of you clutching bowls of popcorn and laughing at the antics in The Princess Diaries.
âI still donât get how a movie about a teenager becoming a princess is this funny,â Jean said, shaking her head as she stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. âLike, shouldnât it be cheesy?â
âIt is cheesy,â you countered, laughing as Mia slipped and fell in the movie. âBut itâs good cheesy. Thereâs a difference.â
Ororo chuckled, glancing at you with an amused smile. âYouâve seen this how many times now?â
âDonât judge me,â you teased, tossing a piece of popcorn in her direction, which she easily swatted away with a smirk. âThis is a classic.â
Jean raised an eyebrow, giving you a playful nudge. âMore classic than, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey? That seems more your speed.â
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. âNot every movie I watch has to be some cerebral masterpiece, Jean.â
Ororo smiled knowingly. âMmm, true, but youâre always spouting off facts about space or physics during random moments in these movies.â
âThatâs because science is everywhere!â you replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. âYou canât not notice when somethingâs wrong.â
Jean grinned. âLike that time you paused Star Wars just to give us a lecture on how light speed doesnât work like that?â
You huffed a laugh. âWell, it doesnât. Itâs allââ
âScience, we know,â Ororo finished, sharing a look with Jean that made you roll your eyes again.
âOkay, okay,â you conceded, holding up your hands. âIâll try not to nerd out tonight.â
âThatâs all we ask,â Jean said, smirking as she leaned back on the couch, throwing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth.
For the next hour or so, the three of you watched the movie without incident, though you had to bite your tongue more than once. A promise was a promise, after all.
When the movie ended, Ororo stretched and got up from the couch. âAlright, Iâm heading to bed. Iâve got an early class tomorrow.â
âSame,â Jean said, standing and offering you a soft smile.
âGuess Iâll get ready for bed too, then.â You replied. Each of you headed to your rooms, Jean shared one with Scott down the hall from you, and Ororoâs room was close by theirs.
Your room was full of plants, small vines on the walls and windowsills, along with potted flowers across the room. It had been habit ever since you learned about your powers to always be surrounded by them, it gave you a sense of peace.
Taking off your clothes you got into the shower, where more plants were, including a rhaphidophora tetrasperma and a maidenhair fern.
You smiled to yourself, relishing the small oasis youâd created in your bathroom. The plants thrived in here, the humidity of your showers mimicking their natural habitat. It was a simple pleasure to see something flourish under your care, which was probably why you always surrounded yourself with greenery.
You rinsed off, the water now lukewarm as it cascaded over you, and turned the shower off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your skin as you moved toward the mirror. You wiped a hand across the fogged glass, revealing your reflection. You took off your shower cap, letting your hair free from its constraints.
There was a faint knock at your door, and you glanced toward it, frowning. Who would be knocking at this hour?
âY/N?â Loganâs voice came from the other side. âYou still awake?â
Your eyes widened slightly. What was Logan doing here? You quickly pulled on some comfortable clothesâan oversized t-shirt and shortsâbefore cracking the door open to find Logan leaning against the frame, his usual smirk in place.
âLogan? Itâs kind of late. Whatâs up?â you asked, holding the door open just enough for him to see you but not enough to fully invite him in.
He shrugged, his eyes briefly scanning you before locking on yours. âCame by to see if you wanted to take a walk. Figured you might still be awake.â
You blinked, taken aback. âA walk? Now?â
âYeah,â he replied casually, as if asking you to go for a walk at nearly midnight was the most normal thing in the world. âYouâre always sayinâ how you like the way the plants look at night. Thought maybe youâd want some fresh air.â
You hesitated for a moment, considering his offer. You had planned on heading to bed soon, but you couldnât deny the appeal of a nighttime walkâespecially with Logan. The mansion grounds were peaceful at this hour, and the idea of walking among the moonlit flowers sounded tempting.
âAlright,â you said, pushing the door open the rest of the way. âLet me put on some shoes.â
Logan nodded, leaning back against the doorframe as he waited, his arms crossing over his chest. You slipped on a pair of sneakers, quickly tying the laces.
âReady,â you said, adjusting your shirt and stepping out into the hallway.
Logan pushed off the frame and started walking beside you, his steps easy and casual. The mansion was quiet, most of the students already asleep, and you could hear the soft hum of night settling in as you both made your way outside. The cool air greeted you as you stepped into the garden, and you couldnât help but smile as the scent of flowers and earth filled your senses.
âSo,â Logan said after a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets, âhow was the movie?â
You smiled, glancing at him. âIt was good. A classic, really.â
He raised an eyebrow. âUh-huh. Jean and Ororo didnât give you a hard time?â
You chuckled. âWell, they did try to poke fun at my love for science, but nothing too bad. It was all in good fun.â
Logan smirked. âYeah, they like to tease. Just means theyâre comfortable around ya.â
You gave a small nod, your gaze shifting to the moonlit flowers around you. You loved the way the plants seemed to glow in the night, the way everything felt so peaceful at this hour. It was one of the reasons you often came out here at night when the mansion was quiet and still.
The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you. Logan didnât say much, but that was one of the things you liked about himâhe didnât need to fill the air with pointless conversation. He was just⌠there, steady and solid, like the trees you so loved to be around.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and the ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. You wondered briefly what he thought of these walks. He always seemed to show up at the right moments, offering his company when you needed it most, even if you didnât realize you needed it at the time.
âSo, Logan,â you started, your voice casual as you glanced at a cluster of moonlit lilies, âwhatâs the real reason you wanted to walk tonight? I know you didnât just suddenly decide to take in the scenery.â
He chuckled, low and deep, as he shifted his gaze to the path ahead. âMaybe I like the scenery more than I let on.â
âRight,â you teased, arching an eyebrow. âBecause Iâve definitely seen you out here admiring the roses before.â
âWho says Iâm talkinâ about the roses, sweetheart?â
You rolled your eyes, though a faint smile played at your lips. âUh-huh. Keep dreaming, Logan.â
There was that playful glint in his eyes again, the one youâd grown used to but never quite understood. He always had this way of teasing youâsoft, subtle comments that seemed to amuse him more than anything else. It wasnât like you minded, though. You liked the banter, even if you never quite knew why he seemed to engage in it with you so much.
You gave him a sidelong glance, but Loganâs expression remained as it usually didâa little cocky, a little mysterious, his hands resting casually in his jacket pockets as he walked alongside you. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path, and you found your gaze drifting back to the flowers blooming in the gardens. The peace of the night wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and for a moment, you almost forgot Logan was there.
âYâknow,â Logan said after a stretch of silence, his voice low and lazy, âyou really are a mystery, sweetheart.â
You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. âWhat do you mean by that?â
Logan shrugged, his eyes briefly flicking to yours before looking ahead again. âYouâre this genius, right? Got two PhDs, can out-think just about anyone in the room. But sometimes⌠youâre completely clueless.â
You scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. âClueless? Me? I donât think thatâs possible.â
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that teasing smile. âYeah, darlinâ. Clueless. You know a hell of a lot about a lot of things, but when it comes to readinâ people? Not so much.â
Your frown deepened. âI think I read people just fine, Logan.â
He stopped walking then, turning to face you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. âOh, do ya?â
âYeah,â you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest. âI spend a lot of time around people. I know how to pick up on things.â
Loganâs smile widened, like he was holding back laughter. âIs that so?â
You narrowed your eyes at him, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. âYes, thatâs so. What are you getting at?â
Loganâs grin widened as he saw you narrow your eyes, your arms crossed in clear frustration. There was something about how easily he could rile you up, how your normally sharp mind would stumble whenever he teased you, that made him enjoy these moments even more.
âYouâre dodging the question,â you pressed, sensing that his silence was deliberate. âWhat are you getting at?â
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the nearest tree, his usual smirk in place. âIâm just sayinâ, for someone whoâs supposed to be a genius, you donât always see whatâs right in front of you.â
You let out a huff, clearly not satisfied with his answer. âI see everything just fine, Logan. Youâre not exactly subtle, you know.â
âSubtle, huh?â Logan echoed, his grin softening into a more thoughtful expression. âMaybe Iâm not. Or maybe youâre just a little too focused on the wrong things.â
You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but as usual, Logan didnât offer anything more. He simply stood there, his eyes watching you carefully, as if enjoying the little mystery heâd planted in your mind. You could practically see the amusement dancing behind his gaze.
âThis is just another one of your games, isnât it?â you muttered, though there was no real bite in your tone. âYou like keeping me guessing.â
âMaybe,â he said with a wink. âKeeps things interestinâ, donât ya think?â
You rolled your eyes again, turning away from him as you started walking down the path. You werenât going to let him keep you on edge like this. You had better things to think about than whatever half-assed answer Logan was playing at tonight.
Logan fell into step beside you, his hands tucked back into his pockets. The two of you walked in silence for a bit longer, and despite the earlier tension, you found yourself relaxing once more. The garden was quiet, the night cool and calm. Loganâs presence, as always, was steady beside you, even if he did like to mess with your head sometimes.
âYou know,â you began after a while, your voice softer now, âjust because Iâm a genius doesnât mean Iâm completely oblivious to people. I do pick up on things.â
Logan shot you a sideways glance, that infuriating smirk back on his face. âSure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.â
âIâm serious!â you insisted, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. âI just⌠maybe Iâm not as concerned with peopleâs motives as much as I am with facts and data. Itâs different.â
Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. âThatâs part of the problem, doll. You think you can figure out everything like itâs a puzzle. But people? Weâre a little more complicated than that.â
You tilted your head, thinking about that. âI donât see why it has to be complicated. People say what they mean, donât they?â
Logan paused for a moment, his smirk turning into something more thoughtful. âNot always.â
There was a heaviness in his voice that made you glance up at him, but before you could ask what he meant, he turned his head away, eyes focused on something in the distance. The moment passed, and Logan was back to his usual self, his grin in place as if nothing had happened.
âAnyway,â he said, changing the subject, âhowâs your latest project goinâ? Still messing with those gadgets?â
You sighed, the shift in conversation allowing you to relax again. âYeah, still working on a few prototypes. Hankâs been helping me out with some of the materials, but weâre having trouble stabilizing the energy output.â
Logan nodded, listening with genuine interest. âSounds like somethinâ youâll figure out soon enough.â
âI hope so,â you said with a small smile. âBut itâs been a little frustrating.â
âNot used to runninâ into roadblocks, huh?â Logan teased.
âNot really,â you admitted, a touch of sheepishness in your tone. âIâm used to things coming together quickly once I have all the information. This oneâs been⌠tricky.â
Logan gave a low hum of understanding. âThatâs the thing about science, sweetheart. It ainât always predictable.â
âYeah, but I like predictability,â you said with a shrug. âIt makes sense. People, on the other handâŚâ
Logan laughed at that, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. âI guess I canât argue with that.â
The two of you continued your walk, the conversation drifting to lighter topicsâprojects, students at the mansion, the occasional prank pulled by one of the younger mutants. You liked how easy it was to talk to Logan, even when he teased you or left you hanging on a thought. He was always there, listening, offering his dry commentary when it was needed.
As you walked, you found yourself glancing at him every now and then, taking in the way the moonlight caught his features, the rough stubble on his jaw, the confident way he carried himself. You didnât understand why he spent so much time around you, especially when he had no trouble being alone or doing his own thing. Logan didnât seem like the type to go out of his way for someone, and yet⌠here he was.
âLogan?â you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
âYeah?â he replied, his gaze shifting to you.
âWhy do you do this?â
He frowned, genuinely confused. âDo what?â
âWalk with me. Spend time with me. Youâre not exactly the most sociable guy around here.â
Logan gave a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked at you. âMaybe I like your company, sweetheart. Ever think of that?â
You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It wasnât like Logan to be so direct about⌠feelings. You werenât sure how to respond, so you simply looked away, feeling a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.
âI guess I never really thought about it,â you admitted after a moment.
Loganâs smirk returned, but there was something softer behind it this time. âThatâs âcause youâre too busy thinkinâ about everythinâ else, doll.â
You didnât respond right away, still processing his words. Logan wasnât one to lay things out so plainly, but when he did, it always seemed to catch you off guard. He had this way of making you question thingsâyourself, your understanding of the worldâwithout ever really giving you any answers. It was frustrating, but at the same time, it was⌠endearing.
As the two of you walked back toward the mansion, the quiet settling over you once more, you couldnât help but wonder what Logan had meant earlier. About you being âclueless.â It wasnât like you didnât notice thingsâsure, people had their layers, but you werenât blind to them. So what was he talking about?
---
The next morning, you were back in your usual routineâteaching classes, working in the greenhouse, and helping the students with their studies. It was a busy day, but you didnât mind. The students were eager to learn, and you found a sense of satisfaction in watching them grow and develop their skills.
After your last class, you made your way to the greenhouse, your favorite part of the day. The students had already watered the plants earlier, so you spent some time pruning and checking on the growth of the flowers and vegetables.
The sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, and you turned to see Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.
âDidnât expect to see you here,â you said, glancing up from the plant you were tending to.
Logan shrugged. âFigured Iâd stop by. See how youâre doinâ.â
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. âYou checking up on me again?â
He chuckled. âSomeoneâs gotta keep an eye on ya, sweetheart.â
You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your plants. âIâm fine, Logan. Really.â
âYeah, I know,â he said, his voice closer now. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing just a few feet away, watching you with that same unreadable expression he always seemed to have around you. âBut it doesnât hurt to check in every now and then.â
Logan looked over at a large strawberry plant in the corner, it seemed to have a lot of yield, bright red strawberries hanging from the branches.
âYou ever try a strawberry with no pesticides?â You asked, standing up from the ground and taking off your gloves. You looked around the plant before pulling what you thought looked to be the best of the bunch, holding it out for him. Since it was August, the strawberries were soon going to go out of season, so this was the last good batch you were going to get.
Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he eyed the fruit in your hand. "Iâve had my share of wild strawberries, sweetheart, but never from your garden.â
You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him with the strawberry still outstretched. âWild strawberries? Really, Logan? This is organic, homegrown perfection. Totally different experience.â
He chuckled, finally taking the strawberry from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. It was so brief you didnât think much of it, but Loganâs smirk softened into something more genuine as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.
âWell?â you asked, watching him expectantly. âWhat do you think?â
Logan chewed slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. âSweet,â he finally said, his voice low. âReal sweet.â
You smiled, pleased with his answer, though you didnât quite catch the way his gaze lingered on you as he said it. âTold you,â you said, turning back to the plant to grab a strawberry for yourself. âFresh strawberries are unbeatable.â
He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you take a bite. âYou take real pride in this, donât ya?â
âOf course,â you said, glancing at him between bites. âThereâs something rewarding about growing things. Watching them thrive under the right conditions. Itâs like⌠I donât know, creating life.â
Loganâs eyes softened as he listened to you talk, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. âYou care a lot about the little det- â He was cut off by surprise, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips wiping off some of the strawberry juice.
You seemed to not think much about it, nor did you notice Loganâs heart sped up with your simple touch. It was over quick, you let out a soft gasp and walked behind him, looking up at a vine at the top where you saw a few ripe kiwis.
You reached your palm out, focusing your energy on the vines at the top of the greenhouse. They shifted gently, as if responding to your silent command, dropping three ripe kiwis into your hand. You grinned, knowing Jean would appreciate the fresh fruit later. It wasnât easy growing kiwis in New York, but your powers made up for the climateâs shortcomings. Nature seemed to bend to your will, a fact you took quiet pride in, even though youâd never flaunt it.
Meanwhile, Logan was still in slight shock from your gesture, he could almost feel the spot where your thumb brushed against him, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And you did it without thinking, in fact, you still didnât seem to notice him looking at your back as you picked a few bunches of basil.
âDamn,â he muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasnât just the way you talked about plants or how your hands moved with skill and graceâit was you, completely unaware of how you affected him. Completely unaware that his heart rate had spiked at the smallest, most innocent touch.
âSomething wrong?â you asked, not even turning around as you picked at the herbs.
Logan blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. âNah, just... thinkinâ. Youâre somethinâ, you know that?â
You gave a short laugh, pausing to glance back at him over your shoulder. âIf thatâs your way of saying Iâm a genius again, I already know.â
He chuckled, moving to stand a bit closer. âThatâs not exactly what I meant, sweetheart.â His voice was low, with that familiar gravelly tone he used when teasing you.
But as usual, the hint flew right past you. âWell, whatever it is, Iâll take it as a compliment.â You plucked another handful of basil leaves, slipping them into a small basket on the bench. âAnd you should try to be more specific next time, Logan. It helps with communication.â
âSpecific, huh?â Logan leaned a little against the workbench beside you, arms crossed. âAlright then, youâre smart, sure. But thereâs more to it than that. You... you just do things without even thinking about it. Like earlier.â His eyes flickered briefly to your hand.
You frowned a little, confused. âEarlier? You mean the strawberry thing? Or when I wiped the juice off your face?â
âYeah,â he said, grinning. âThat.â
You blinked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal of it. âLogan, it was just strawberry juice. You looked like you were about to walk into a meeting with half a fruit smeared on your face.â
Logan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. âYeah, doll. I get that.â He watched as you turned back to your plants, completely oblivious to the fact that what had been a small, thoughtless gesture for you had stirred something deeper for him. He found it both amusing and frustratingânot in an annoying way, but in a way that made him want to get closer to you, to push the boundaries just a little more.
âSo,â you said, shifting the subject as you snipped a bit more basil. âWhatâs got you wandering into the greenhouse today? Itâs not exactly your usual haunt.â
Logan leaned back, watching you with those intense eyes of his. âJust felt like stoppinâ by. Spend some time with you. Ainât that a good enough reason?â
You rolled your eyes, though your smile was genuine. âI suppose. Itâs just... you donât usually care about plants and stuff.â
âWell, maybe Iâm changinâ,â Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You shook your head, laughing softly. âIâll believe that when I see it.â You paused, glancing at him as you picked up a watering can. âSo... you wanna help?â
Logan raised an eyebrow. âMe? Helpinâ with your garden?â
âWhy not?â you asked, stepping closer to him. âYouâve got hands, donât you? Itâs not all that complicated.â
He chuckled, reaching out to take the watering can from you, brushing his fingers against yours for a second time. âAlright, sweetheart, show me how itâs done.â
You handed him the can and pointed to a row of lavender plants nearby. âJust give them a little water. Not too much thoughâthey donât like it when their roots get too wet.â
Logan followed your instructions with a kind of amused curiosity, watching as the water trickled from the can onto the plants. It wasnât the kind of thing he normally found himself doing, but there was something about the simplicity of it, something about you, that made it... well, not so bad.
âYou really know your stuff, donât ya?â Logan remarked after a few moments, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.
âWell, yeah,â you said, turning to grab some tools from a nearby shelf. âIâve been doing this for a while. Plus, itâs kind of in my wheelhouse, you know? With the whole âcontrolling natureâ thing.â
Logan smirked, setting the watering can down as he leaned against the bench again. âYeah, Iâve seen you do some pretty wild things with those powers of yours. But you donât talk about âem much.â
âI talk to them.â You said, hiding a grin from growing on your face.
âReally?â he asked, surprised.
You laughed as you stood up, throwing a few weeds in a separate basket. âNo. I was joking!â
Logan let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head at you. âYou got me there, sweetheart,â he said, still leaning against the bench, watching you with that ever-present smirk on his face.
You grabbed a nearby hose, turning the water on low to rinse your hands. "Can't believe you thought I was serious. I mean, I get along with plants, but I donât have full-on conversations with them. Thatâd be weird."
"Wouldn't surprise me with you, doll," Logan replied, still watching you intently. "You seem to know what everything around here needs, even without talkin' to 'em."
You shrugged, drying your hands on a towel. "Itâs just intuition, I guess. Plants give off signals if you know how to read them."
Logan gave you a long look, his smirk softening into something almost affectionate, though you didnât notice. "You sure it's just the plants you read that well?"
You looked up at him, confused for a second, but quickly shook your head, dismissing his comment. "Are you gonna keep talking, or are you actually going to help me?â
Logan pushed himself off the bench, standing up straight. "Alright, alright. Where do you want me, doll?"
You handed him the basket full of weeds, âthrow them out.â
He raised an eyebrow, âthatâs it?â
You handed Logan the basket of weeds, his hand brushing against yours for the third time today. He smirked slightly, but you, as usual, were completely unaware of the subtle tension.
âMm-hmm,â you hummed in response to his earlier question, balancing two baskets filled with freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and herbs in your arms. âIâm gonna lock up and bring these inside.â
Logan didnât move for a second, watching as you turned your back and headed toward the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the greenhouse. For someone so sharp, so brilliant, you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he enjoyed these little moments with you.
That small, unspoken connection you two hadâthe one where you never quite seemed to notice that he was flirting with youâhad started to become his favorite part of the day. Even if it had been going on for 8 months, and yes, he was counting.
As you reached for the lock on the greenhouse door, you glanced over your shoulder. âYouâre still standing there, Logan. Are you gonna help or just watch me carry all this stuff by myself?â
Loganâs smirk widened. âOh, I was just enjoyin' the view, sweetheart.â
You rolled your eyes, missing the deeper meaning in his words, as usual. âRight. Well, the view can help me with these baskets if itâs not too busy.â
Logan chuckled softly, walking over to you and easily taking one of the baskets from your hands. âYou got it, doll. Iâll lend a hand.â
Together, you made your way toward the mansion, the quiet of the late afternoon settling around you. It was peaceful, in that way you likedâjust the sound of your footsteps on the gravel path, the faint rustle of leaves in the distance, and the low hum of the cicadas in the trees. Logan had quickly thrown away the weeds and rejoined you, taking the other basket out of your hand, saying something about how he was âbeing a gentleman.â
You both entered the mansion from the back door, making your way to the kitchen where Logan placed the baskets on the island. Jean and Scott were already in there, Jean making her way over to the two baskets.
You, having an inkling for what she was looking for, reached into one of the baskets and pulled out the 3 kiwis. You handed the kiwis over to Jean, a smile playing on your lips as she quickly clutched them to her chest, almost like they were gold. It wasnât the first time sheâd done this, and it always amused you. Scott, of course, tried to intervene, reaching out to snatch one, but Jean shot him a look that was part-serious, part-playful.
âHey, those are for me,â she said, moving slightly to block Scottâs hand. âIâve been waiting for these kiwis all week.â
Scott smirked but backed off, raising his hands in surrender. âAlright, alright. I wouldnât want to get on your bad side, babe.â
Jean gave him a victorious smile, then turned to you. âThanks, Y/N. You always come through with the best fruit.â
âOf course,â you replied, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. âYouâve been asking for kiwis since the season started, so I figured it was about time I delivered.â
Logan, still standing nearby, watched the interaction with a subtle smirk on his face. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking completely relaxed but attentive.
âYou sure know how to make people happy, doll,â Logan said, his voice low but teasing. âAlways goinâ above and beyond for everyone.â
You shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. âItâs just a few kiwis, Logan. Nothing special.â
Jean, now satisfied with her prized fruit, glanced between the two of you with a curious look, sensing something in Loganâs tone. She had noticed the way heâd been hanging around you more than usual lately, and it wasnât hard to pick up on the little glances he threw your way when you werenât looking. Of course, you remained blissfully unaware of it all, as always.
âYouâre selling yourself short,â Jean said, throwing you a grin. âItâs not just the kiwis. Youâve practically turned the greenhouse into a mini-Eden. We all appreciate it, even if Scott canât admit heâs jealous of my fruit.â
Scott rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. âYeah, yeah. Thanks for the garden, Y/N.â
You smiled at the compliment, though it didnât feel like anything out of the ordinary to you. Taking care of the plants, helping out with the students, it was all part of your routine. You liked it that wayâpredictable, manageable. You didnât dwell on the subtleties of interpersonal dynamics the way others seemed to.
Loganâs smirk widened slightly at Jeanâs comment, but he kept quiet, watching you interact with the others. There was something about the way you brushed off compliments so easily, like you didnât quite grasp how much people appreciated you around here.
You had already put a few strawberries in a glass bowl, making your way out of the kitchen to Ororoâs office without saying a word, something they were already used to.
âYou sure youâre not going to say anything? You know, thatâs actually straight to the point?â Jean asked Logan.
Scott reached into one of the baskets, pulling out a few blueberries, âat this point, youâre like a love-sick puppy following her around.â
Logan let out a low growl, plucking a strawberry out from the basket. âKeep talking dickhead.â He threatened.
Jean raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, her sharp eyes flicking between Logan and Scott. "Heâs not wrong though, Logan. Youâve been spending more time with Y/N than usual. Weâve all noticed."
Logan grunted, pushing himself off the counter and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "Sheâs a good kid. Someoneâs gotta keep an eye on her."
Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Right, keepin' an eye on her. That's what weâre calling it now?"
Jean shot Scott a playful glare, but her attention quickly shifted back to Logan. âYou know, you could just tell her how you feel. Sheâs oblivious, but sheâs not stupid. Sooner or later, sheâs going to notice.â
Loganâs jaw tightened, and he glanced toward the door where you had just left. His emotions were complicatedâheâd never been one for opening up, and the idea of confessing anything, especially something as vulnerable as his feelings for you, wasnât exactly in his comfort zone. He had been through too much, lost too many people, and the thought of letting himself get close to someone again... well, it scared him more than he cared to admit.
âSheâs got her own life,â Logan muttered, his voice gruff but softer now. âI ainât lookinâ to mess that up.â
Jean sighed, walking over to stand next to Logan, her tone gentle but firm. âLogan, youâre not messing anything up. In fact, I think youâd be adding something important to her life. Sheâs not the type to see you as a burden or a distraction. She probably wouldnât even realize you were flirting with her until you hit her over the head with it.â
Logan huffed a half-hearted laugh, but the tension in his shoulders remained. âMaybe thatâs the problem. Sheâs too damn focused on other stuff to even see it.â
Jean smiled softly, placing a hand on Loganâs arm. âThatâs what makes her so special, Logan. Sheâs genuine, selfless, and probably the least manipulative person in this mansion. She doesnât play gamesâwhat you see is what you get. And she likes you, even if she doesnât realize it in the same way you do yet.â
Scott, still lounging in his chair, added, âPlus, you know, if you wait too long, someone else might catch her eye. Just sayinâ.â
Logan shot Scott a glare that could have melted steel. âAinât nobody else gonna catch her eye, Summers. Trust me on that.â
Jean chuckled softly, giving Loganâs arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. âWell, when youâre ready, just rememberâitâs okay to take a chance on her. You might be surprised by how things turn out.â
Logan didnât respond right away, his mind already spinning with conflicting thoughts. He appreciated Jeanâs support, but the fear of rejection, of losing someone else important to him, gnawed at his insides. He wasnât sure if he could handle it again. And what if telling you how he felt ruined the easy, comfortable dynamic you two had? What if he lost the one person in the mansion who treated him like a normal man instead of a gruff, dangerous mutant?
Jean and Scott exchanged a knowing glance, but they let Logan mull over his thoughts in silence. They could push him only so far before it was up to him to take the next step.
---
You were walking down the halls with your bag in over your shoulder, all you needed to do was get to your office and take these heels off.
They looked cute online, not too tall or high, had some cushion on the soles, but wearing them was a completely different story. Which was sad because they were a cute baby pink which went well with your button up baby pink cardigan and white jeans.
But your office seemed so far away with the stabbing pain in your feet, luckily the halls were empty since most of the students were in their rooms doing homework or relaxing before dinner.
Having enough of the pain, you crouched down to unbuckle your heels, your bag moving down your shoulder to your elbow.
âNeed any help, princess?â
You looked up at the sound of the voice, even though you knew exactly who it was.
Logan stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flicked down to your shoes before meeting your gaze again, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
âNeed any help, princess?â His voice was low and casual, but that nicknameâ'princessââit was just one of the many heâd taken to using when he spoke to you. Although you hadnât heard this one before.
You shifted your bag back up on your shoulder and continued unbuckling the second heel. âIâve got it, thanks,â you replied, not thinking too much of his presence. Youâd known Logan long enough to realize he had a habit of showing up when you least expected him to.
He made a small grunt, as if to say âsuit yourself,â and watched as you continued to try and unbuckle the second one, but it looked like the strap was giving you a hard time.
Logan kneeled down in front of you without a word as you moved your hands away. You were smart enough to know that you werenât exactly in the best position to unbuckle your heels, you usually did it when you were sitting down, not crouching in the middle of a hallway.
He easily unbuckled it and helped you slip out of the heels, your feet hitting the cool floor. You mumbled a thanks as his hand trailed up your calf with a feather light touch before standing up. Your heels were in one of his hands as he easily picked you up with one arm, carrying you bridal style.
You let out a small shriek of surprise, your arms instinctively going around Loganâs neck as he scooped you up with one arm, heels dangling from his other hand.
"Hey! I can walk!" you protested, more flustered than anything else. You were completely capable of walking, sore feet or not, but now you were cradled in Loganâs arms like a princess in some old fairy tale.
Logan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Not fast enough, sweetheart," he teased, carrying you effortlessly down the hall. His voice was deep, a hint of amusement in his tone, and it made your cheeks heat up slightly, though you quickly tried to brush it off.
You rolled your eyes, not really sure how to argue back. "Iâm pretty sure this is unnecessary," you muttered, though your voice didnât sound all that convincing even to you.
"Necessary or not, you're gonna let me carry you," he shot back, glancing down at you with a playful gleam in his eye. "Besides, I donât mind."
You huffed in mock defiance, but you didnât exactly push him to put you down either. In fact, being carried by Logan feltâŚnice. Comfortable, even. Not that youâd ever admit that out loud. And it certainly wasnât the first time heâd done this.
As the two of you continued down the hallway, you couldnât help but notice the way his grip was firm but gentle, his arms strong and steady. It wasnât the first time youâd seen how built he was, but somehow, it always seemed to surprise you.
"You know, this couldâve been avoided if Iâd just worn normal shoes," you grumbled, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart was beating a little too fast.
Logan chuckled softly, that gravelly sound that always seemed to resonate in your chest. "Doll, Iâve seen you rock combat boots and still look like youâre ready for a photoshoot. But those heelsâŚ" He raised an eyebrow at the pink shoes still in his hand. "Yeah, maybe not your best choice."
You frowned slightly, glancing at the heels. "They looked good onlineâŚ"
He grinned, amused. "You got catfished by shoes?"
"I didnât get catfished!" you retorted, though you couldnât help but laugh. "Theyâre cute! Just not comfortable."
Logan made a noncommittal sound, clearly not convinced by your argument. But he didnât press it further, instead shifting you slightly in his arms as he approached your office door.
"Want me to break down the door for you, too, princess? Or can you manage the key?" he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes, looking down at you like you were some helpless damsel.
"Iâve got it," you replied quickly, reaching into your bag for your keys. "And stop calling me princess." The nickname felt weird, it made your heart beat faster and you skin flush more than the other nicknames he called you.
But Logan just smirked, clearly unbothered. "Sure thing, sweetheart."
You couldnât stop the little sigh that escaped you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. Logan stepped inside, gently setting you down on your feet.
As soon as you were standing, you felt the cool air against your now bare feet, and it was an instant relief from the torture those heels had put you through. You moved to put your heels down by your desk, but Logan still had them in his hand.
"You know I can take those now," you said, holding out your hand expectantly.
Logan eyed the heels for a moment, then handed them over. "You really should burn 'em, doll," he said in that same teasing tone, watching you place them on the floor.
"Iâm not burning them," you replied, shaking your head. "Theyâre not that bad. I justâŚneed to break them in."
Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe now, watching you with that amused smirk still playing on his lips. "Or you could just stick to boots."
"Maybe I like being fashionable sometimes," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at him as you plopped down into your office chair. Your fingers brushed your hair back from your face, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh now that you were sitting down.
"Fashionable, sure," Logan said, his voice a low rumble. "But at what cost?"
You shot him a look but couldnât help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It was hard to stay annoyed when Logan was like thisâplayful, relaxed, his rough edges softened just enough to make you feel like he actually cared.
"Anyway, shouldnât you be out doing something more...Logan-like?" you asked, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest.
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"I don't know, brooding? Scowling at someone?"
His lips twitched, clearly suppressing a smirk. "Maybe Iâm just waiting for you to ask me to carry you again."
You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. "Yeah, well, donât hold your breath."
He chuckled, that deep, gravelly sound filling the small office. He didnât say anything after that, just leaned against the door, arms crossed as he watched you settle in. The silence was comfortable, but it made you hyperaware of himâof the way his presence seemed to take up more space than it should.
You busied yourself with pulling out some notes from your bag, pretending you werenât fully aware of how Loganâs eyes followed your every movement. It was strange, but also kind ofâŚnice? Logan wasnât like other guys. He wasnât intimidated by your intelligence or the fact that you could talk circles around most people in the room. In fact, he seemed to like it, even if he teased you about it sometimes.
"Alright, well, thanks for theâŚuh, assistance," you said, breaking the silence and giving him a small, awkward smile. "I think Iâm good now."
Logan didnât move right away. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Anytime, sweetheart."
And with that, he turned and walked out of your office, leaving you with your thoughtsâand the faintest trace of a smirk on your face.
---
Every so often, you would have a baking day to use up some of the fruits efficiently. Some of the students would join you in the large kitchen, doing their best to help you by carefully following your instructions.
Some of them, particularly the older ones, would cut up some of the fruit, like strawberries, apples, and peaches. The others would measure the ingredients and put them in a mixing bowl before combining it all together to make a dough.
This time, you were striving to make a few blueberry pies, a large dish of peach cobbler, apple strudels, and some strawberry puff pastries.
Baking was something you enjoyed, but never really did in college. You usually were busier with labs and theses rather than cooking or baking. You practically lived off take out and dining hall food. But since youâve been here for the past year, youâve already held 4 sessions, including this one.
âCareful with those strawberries,â you said to a student named Ben, who was chopping up the fruit with a little too much enthusiasm. âWe need them in slices, not chunks.â
âSorry, Y/N,â he mumbled, quickly adjusting his technique.
You smiled softly and moved to check on the other group, who were working on the dough for the pies. A girl named Emily was measuring out the flour, carefully following the recipe youâd written down.
"Howâs it going over here?" you asked, watching as she sifted the flour into a bowl.
âGood, I think,â Emily said, glancing up at you nervously. âIs this enough?â
You nodded. "Looks perfect. Just remember to mix it slowly so the flour doesnât go everywhere."
Emily gave you a grateful smile before continuing her work. You loved these baking sessions. It was a great way to bond with the students and also let them explore a more creative side outside of their classes. Plus, it gave you a break from the constant intellectual challenges of your usual work.
Logan wandered into the kitchen a little while later, casually leaning against the doorframe as he watched the controlled chaos. Ororo and Jean were already in the kitchen, watching from the sidelines nursing a glass of a bubbly pink drink.
He couldnât help but think about how pretty you looked, you were wearing a pastel purple sundress with a light green apron with vines and flowers embroidered on it.
The sight made him smirkâsomething about you baking in a kitchen full of teenagers, in your floral apron, amused him. It was such a stark contrast to your usual intellectual, no-nonsense attitude.
âWhatcha got cookinâ, sweetheart?â Loganâs gruff voice broke the bustling sounds of mixing and chopping.
You didnât glance up, too focused on guiding Emily through making the pie dough. "Just baking some pies and pastries. Using up the leftover fruit. Do you want some?" you asked casually, not thinking too much about the fact that Logan was watching you.
Logan shrugged, stepping further into the kitchen. âDepends. Is it any good?â
You finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. âYou doubt my baking skills?â
He chuckled lowly, leaning against the counter now, close enough to see what you were working on. âWouldnât call it doubt, doll. Just curious.â
You gave him a small smirk, hands moving skillfully as you finished helping Emily measure the remaining ingredients. "Youâll have to wait until theyâre done to find out."
One of the students, Ben, interrupted, grinning as he wiped flour off his hands. "Y/Nâs baking is the best! She made these strawberry scones last timeâthey were gone in like ten minutes."
Logan raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing glance. "Impressive, princess. Maybe I will stick around."
You rolled your eyes at the nickname but didnât comment. Instead, you turned back to Emily, helping her roll out the dough. It wasnât that you didnât notice Logan's teasing, it was just that you didnât think much of it. Guys didnât usually flirt with you. At least not seriously. Most found your intelligence intimidating, or they simply saw you as âone of the guys.â Loganâs pet names, in your mind, were just part of his rough-and-tumble personality, nothing more.
But Logan, on the other hand, found your obliviousness endearing. The fact that you didnât seem to realize he was flirting with you only made him try harder, though he kept it casual enough not to push you away. He liked the challenge.
âYou need any help?â Logan offered, gesturing toward the fruit Ben was chopping haphazardly.
âYouâre not gonna burn the kitchen down?â you teased, wiping your hands on your apron before reaching for a bowl.
âI think I can handle it,â Logan said, a grin tugging at his lips.
You handed him a knife, showing him how to properly slice the strawberries. âHere, like this. We need them thin for the pastries.â
You held out the knife for him, and instead of coming up beside you like you assumed he would, he stood behind you, his chest against your back, practically caging you in between him and the counter.
He could hear your heart beat faster as he cut a few slices of the strawberry, asking, "That good enough for you, sweetheart?"
His voice was low, and you could feel his breath near your ear, but you were too focused on the task at hand to fully process the closeness. You glanced at the thinly sliced strawberries, nodding absentmindedly.
"Yeah, thatâs perfect," you mumbled, moving slightly away to give yourself more room to breathe, though you didnât realize why. "Just need a few more for the pastries."
Logan continued slicing, his movements precise, though his presence remained solid and grounding behind you. You were used to people standing close when you worked in the lab or in classâtight spaces, shared equipment, it came with the territory. But this was different. Loganâs proximity felt⌠intense in a way you couldnât quite pinpoint.
"So, how long you been doin' this?" Logan asked casually, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he finished up with the strawberries.
You blinked, taking a second to register the question. "Baking? Oh, I donât know⌠when I was a kid? I just started because itâs a nice break from⌠everything I guess.â
Jean and Ororo continued to drink their glass of champagne when Scott walked in, placing an arm around Jeanâs waist as they watched the scene. âThink sheâll finally realize,â he asked.
Ororo gave a small grin and shrugged, âwho knows? But Loganâs certainly getting bolder.â
Jean shook her head, âI told him to talk to her and say exactly what he was feeling, but turns out he still hasnât taken my advice.â
Ororo chuckled as she took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze flicking back to the kitchen scene unfolding in front of them. "Well, you know Logan. Subtlety isnât exactly his strong suit."
Scott smirked as he stood next to Jean, his arm still comfortably draped around her waist. "Yeah, but subtlety doesnât seem to be the problem here," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Logan hover around you. "Heâs not exactly hiding it."
Ororo tilted her head, amused by how oblivious you remained despite Loganâs efforts. It wasnât that you were unobservant; you were incredibly sharpâwhen it came to science, mechanics, and even battle tactics. But personal matters? Especially the ones involving yourself? Not so much.
"Poor girl," Ororo mused, shaking her head. "Sheâs a genius, but thisâŚ" She waved a hand in Loganâs direction. "This seems to be one thing sheâs totally clueless about."
Jean smiled sympathetically. "Sheâs not used to people flirting with her. I mean, guys either get intimidated by her brain, or they just see her as a fellow intellectual, not⌠you know, a woman."
Ororo raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Logan clearly sees her as a woman. Heâs made that much obvious. But I wonder how long itâll take for her to figure it out."
Jean laughed softly. "At this rate? It might take a while."
The three of them watched with growing curiosity as Logan stood there, his broad shoulders and rough demeanor somehow fitting perfectly in the domestic scene of baking pastries with students. You, on the other hand, were entirely focused on getting the strawberry puff pastries just right, completely unaware of how closely Logan was watching youâor how he lingered longer than necessary when he handed you the knife, or how his teasing nicknames held a deeper meaning.
"Sheâs too smart for her own good," Scott added, shaking his head with a chuckle. "But when it comes to this, she's got blind spots."
Jean nodded in agreement. "Y/N is convinced she knows everythingâand to be fair, she does know a lotâbut sheâs missing the whole picture here."
---
After Loganâs stunt on baking day, he wondered just how much further he could go. Sure, he could take Jeanâs advice and outright tell you, but he also liked seeing you riled up and confused by his words and actions.
Like a few days ago, all he did was pull out your chair at dinner with the rest of the group and you just stood there, confused by the gesture. It took a few moments for you to understand and finally sit down before he pushed the chair closer to the table for you.
Or now, they were having a briefing, or meeting, about God knows what, most of everybody seated. You and Ororo were the last people to come in, aside from Charles. Ororo went to sit down at an open seat and as you looked around you came to the conclusion that there werenât any other chairs available.
You were content with the fact that you were going to stand for the short meeting, as you found a spot to stand at the opposite end of the large round table, close to Logan.
âCâmere doll.â Logan said, lazily gesturing for you to come closer.
You hesitantly did, stopping next to his chair, your knee brushing his thigh. âWhat?â
He patted his thigh, âI donât bite.â
Your eyes widened, a cute, innocent expression that he enjoyed seeing on your face, as you looked around the room. âI, uh- â
Loganâs smirk widened, clearly finding your hesitation endearing. He patted his lap again, his eyes glinting with a teasing light. âCâmon, doll. Donât be shy. Thereâs a perfectly good seat right here.â
You hesitated, your brain racing to process the situation. It wasnât exactly appropriate for a professional setting, but you were running out of options. The only other seats were either taken or a bit too far from the discussion table. With a small sigh, you decided to give in. You didnât want to stand for the entire meeting, and it was just one of those moments where you had to roll with it.
âAlright,â you said. You shot a glance around the room, but most people were already absorbed in their conversations or taking notes. You gingerly sat down on the edge of his lap, trying to maintain a sense of propriety despite the awkwardness of the situation.
Loganâs arm naturally wrapped around your waist to stabilize you, but he didnât say anything as you settled. You could feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket, and it was strangely comforting despite the unusual circumstances. He leaned in slightly, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, âYou alright there, sweetheart?â
You nodded, trying to focus on the meeting but acutely aware of how close he was. âYeah, Iâm fine,â you replied, though you could feel your cheeks warming slightly. âJust trying to get comfortable.â
Logan chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and making you shift just a bit closer. His hand rested lightly on your hip, not too firm but enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. You tried to ignore it and concentrate on the meeting, but his proximity made that task rather difficult.
The meeting continued, with Charles and the others discussing various topics related to ongoing projects and missions. Loganâs hand on your hip was a constant reminder of his presence, but he remained quiet, only chiming in occasionally with his usual gruff comments or suggestions.
---
At breakfast one day, you were sitting with Hank talking about the project you two were working on that was finally getting somewhere. You had finally been able to stabilize the energy output and now you two were talking about what to do next.
Logan sipped his coffee, looking at your from afar. As always, you were dressed cute today. You were wearing a light blue sweater with a pair of your skinny jeans and white flats, paired with matching drop earrings.
Ororo and Jean came up beside him, the former tsking. Ororo gave Logan a knowing look, crossing her arms. "You still at it, huh?" she teased, nodding in your direction.
Logan grunted but didn't respond immediately, sipping his coffee as he watched you and Hank animatedly discuss your project. You were explaining something with such enthusiasm, using your hands to gesture wildly, that it made him smirk. The light blue sweater you wore today only added to the adorable vibe you unknowingly radiated.
Jean nudged him lightly. "Nine months, Logan. Nine months of flirting, and sheâs still completely oblivious." She shook her head, amused.
"Sheâs a genius, remember?" Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "Sheâs supposed to know everything."
Logan snorted, finally setting his coffee down. "Well, she clearly doesnât know this. And Iâm in no rush to tell her." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His eyes didnât leave you, even as the conversation between Hank and you grew more intense.
Jean chuckled. "It's kinda cute, though. Watching her get all flustered whenever you call her those names, like sheâs completely missing the point."
"I know," Logan muttered with a grin. "She gets that little furrow in her brow, like sheâs trying to figure it out, but then brushes it off. Sheâs too wrapped up in all her fancy projects and theories."
Ororo shook her head in disbelief. "Youâve got the patience of a saint. Most people wouldâve given up by now."
Logan shrugged, glancing at Ororo. "Ainât in any hurry. Sheâs worth the wait."
Jean smiled softly at that, then sighed. "Well, good luck. Maybe one day sheâll actually catch on."
As if on cue, you let out a triumphant laugh from across the room, and Loganâs attention immediately shifted back to you. You had a bright smile on your face, clearly excited about whatever breakthrough you and Hank had just made.
"Youâre like a moth to a flame," Ororo muttered under her breath with a smirk, walking off with Jean to sit down.
Logan ignored her, his eyes still locked on you as you gathered up some papers and started to walk toward the exit. As you passed him, he casually stuck his leg out just enough that you had to stop short to avoid tripping.
âLogan!â you exclaimed, looking down at his leg and then up at him with confusion.
He raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. "Mornin', sweetheart."
You blinked at him, clearly thrown off for a moment. "Uh, morning." You shifted the stack of papers in your arms. "Whyâd youâ"
"Just wanted to say good job," he interrupted, nodding toward the papers in your hand. "Whatever you and Hank were talkinâ about over there seemed pretty important."
Your face lit up at the mention of your project, and you immediately launched into an explanation, completely forgetting about Logan's odd behavior. "Oh, yeah! We finally stabilized the energy output! Itâs been driving us crazy for weeks, but we think weâve figured out how toâ"
Logan barely paid attention to the technical jargon that followed, more focused on the way your eyes sparkled as you talked, your excitement contagious. He gave a few gruff nods, pretending to follow along, but it was the way you lit up when you were passionate about something that kept him hooked.
"Youâre incredible, you know that?" he said once you finished, his voice low and serious.
You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, what?"
"I said youâre incredible." He repeated, his gaze locking onto yours. "Smart, talented, and cute as a button. Gotta give credit where itâs due."
Your cheeks flushed pink, and you quickly looked down at the papers in your arms. "Oh, um, thanks, Logan," you mumbled, completely missing the deeper implication of his words, as usual. "I... I should probably get these to the lab. We need to review them before the next phase."
"Of course," Logan said, his smirk widening as he watched you stumble over your words. "But donât forget to take a break, doll. All work and no play ainât good for anyone."
"Right," you said, nodding as you hurried off, your mind already shifting back to your project, completely oblivious to the playful grin on Logan's face.
---
âYouâve never even been clubbing!?â Ororo exclaimed, holding up a finger to stop you from saying anything. âAnd you know Iâm not talking about something like a âgardening clubâ.â
âAnd you have?â You asked, sitting on your bed as Jean looked through your closet.
Ororo laughed, shaking her head at your naivety. âOh, Y/N, honey, Iâve been out dancing plenty of times. Clubbing is one of those things you just have to experience.â
Jean, still rummaging through your closet, chimed in, "Sheâs right, Y/N. It's fun to get out of the lab once in a while and let loose. You spend so much time buried in your work. You deserve a break."
You sighed, sinking back onto the bed. "I donât know⌠It just seems like a waste of time. We could watch a movie, drink some wine, and call it a night."
Ororo leaned against your dresser, crossing her arms. "You canât hide behind your projects forever, Flora. You need to socialize, let your hair down." She smirked, looking at you pointedly. "You never know, maybe someone will finally catch your eye."
You furrowed your brow, unconvinced. "Like who?"
Jean shared a knowing look with Ororo before turning to face you, holding up a dress youâd forgotten you owned. âWho knows? There could be someone at the club. Or maybe someone youâve been completely blind to.â
Ororo raised an eyebrow and added, "Someone whoâs been giving you attention for months, perhaps."
Your eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Jean grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she held up the dress in front of you. "Nothing, just an observation. Now, come on, put this on. Letâs see how it looks."
You sighed, getting off the bed and taking the dress from Jeanâs hands. "I still donât get what the big deal is. Iâm perfectly fine without this whole clubbing thing."
Ororo smirked, stepping toward the door. âTrust us. Youâll thank us later.â
---
A few hours later, you found yourself standing outside one of the busiest clubs in the city, feeling slightly out of place in the dress Jean had picked out for you. The music thumped from inside the building, the bass reverberating through the sidewalk as people lined up to get in. You stood between Jean and Ororo, who both looked far more comfortable in their outfits than you felt in yours.
"I canât believe you guys convinced me to come," you muttered under your breath, shifting on your feet as you glanced at the line of people ahead.
Jean grinned, looping her arm through yours. "Youâre going to have fun. Trust me. Itâs a nice change of pace."
Ororo nodded in agreement. "Plus, you deserve a night out. Youâve been working hard."
As you were about to respond, the doors of the club swung open, and you were hit with a blast of cool air mixed with the sound of thumping music. The bouncer waved the three of you in without a second glance, and before you knew it, you were inside, the lights flashing and the crowd buzzing with energy.
You followed Jean and Ororo through the throngs of people, weaving through the packed dance floor until you reached the bar. The atmosphere was unlike anything you were used toâloud, chaotic, and a little overwhelming. You werenât sure how you felt about it yet.
Ororo leaned against the bar, ordering drinks while Jean turned to you with a grin. "What do you think so far?"
You shrugged, glancing around. "Itâs... different."
"Just give it a chance," Jean said, patting your arm. "Once you get a drink in you and loosen up a bit, youâll feel better."
The bartender handed Ororo three drinks, and she passed one to you with a wink. "To new experiences, Flora."
You hesitated for a moment before raising your glass. "To new experiences, I guess."
The three of you clinked glasses, and you took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol start to settle in. Maybe this night wouldnât be so bad after all.
---
An expensive Uber trip later and you three were back at the mansion at 4 in the morning. Luckily it was Friday, or Saturday now, so there was no need to worry about being hungover for classes.
You donât think youâve ever drank that much alcohol, but to be fair, you must have a really low tolerance since you never partied in college, other than the occasional glass of wine.
So, drinking around 5 or 6 fruity cocktails surely made you see things differently. Maybe just a tad bit too blurry and clumsy.
You fumbled with your keys at the mansion door, Jean giggling behind you. âHere, let me help,â she offered, her hands steadier than yours as she took the keys and unlocked the door with ease.
âIâm fine, Jean!â you protested with a laugh, swaying slightly as you stepped inside. You werenât used to feeling so... unbalanced. Everything seemed lighter, funnier, and a little more ridiculous after the alcohol. You were starting to understand why people did this more often.
Ororo walked in behind you, shaking her head but smiling. âMaybe next time we wonât let you have quite so many drinks,â she teased, gently guiding you toward the living room. âYouâre gonna feel this tomorrow.â
âIâm a genius,â you declared, holding your head high in mock dignity, âIâll be fine.â
Jean snorted, flopping onto the couch. âOh yeah? Even geniuses canât outsmart a hangover.â
You waved her off, settling into a chair, only to realize it was far too squishy, causing you to slide right down onto the floor. You stared at it for a second, then burst out laughing. âWho put a trap here?â
Ororo and Jean were in hysterics now, and even though your head was spinning, you couldnât help but join in.
âYou know,â Ororo started between giggles, âfor someone who knows everything, you sure donât know how to handle a drink.â
You narrowed your eyes at her, or at least tried to. âItâs... an anomaly. Unpredictable variables.â
âRight,â Jean said, leaning back with a grin, âjust like Loganâs flirting.â
You blinked, the name snapping you out of your drunken haze for a second. âLoganâs what?â
Ororo and Jean exchanged glances before looking back at you, their smiles widening.
âHis flirting,â Jean repeated slowly, as if explaining a simple concept.
You squinted, feeling like your brain was moving through molasses. âFlirting? Logan? With me?â
Ororo rolled her eyes playfully. âYes, Y/N. For months. You seriously havenât noticed?â
You stared at them both, utterly lost. âFlirting? Logan? Are you guys drunk too?â
Jean sighed dramatically, standing up. âI think youâre too far gone to process this tonight.â
You shook your head, still trying to wrap your mind around what they were saying. Logan? Flirting? With you? It didnât make any sense. Logan was... well, Logan.
Ororo pulled you up from the floor, patting your arm. âLetâs get you to bed. You can overthink this tomorrow.â
---
The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach that felt like it was doing somersaults. Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, making a mental note to never drink that much again.
As you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to find coffee and maybe something greasy to settle your stomach, you tried to remember the details from last night. Jean and Ororo had said something about Logan... flirting with you?
You shook your head. That couldnât be right. Logan wasnât the type to flirt. He was gruff, tough, and mostly kept to himself. Sure, he called you pet names, but that didnât mean anything. Right?
Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you sat at the kitchen island, still groggy. You were about to take a sip when you heard the familiar sound of boots approaching.
âMorninâ, doll,â Logan greeted as he walked in, his voice a low rumble.
You looked up at him, your brain still foggy, and for some reason, the word âflirtingâ popped into your mind again. You stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, your head tilting slightly.
âUh... morning,â you replied, your voice a little more unsure than usual. You couldnât stop replaying what Jean and Ororo had said last night. Was this flirting? You eyed Logan, trying to decipher his expression.
He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. âYou look like hell.â
âGee, thanks,â you muttered, taking a sip of your coffee. âThatâs exactly what I wanted to hear.â
Logan chuckled, that deep, rough sound that always sent a weird shiver down your spine. âGuess you didnât take my advice about not overdoing it, huh?â
You blinked. âWhat advice?â
âLast night,â he said, smirking, âtold ya not to have too many drinks, sweetheart.â
Your brow furrowed. âWait, you were there?â
âYeah,â Logan said, clearly amused. âPassed by when you three were heading out. You looked excited about... whatever the hell it is you get excited about.â
You frowned, trying to remember him saying that. It was all so hazy. Then you shook your head, deciding to just drop it. âWell, Iâll survive.â
Logan gave you a lazy grin. âTough as nails, arenât ya?â
You shrugged, trying to play it off. âI guess so.â
There was a moment of silence before Logan pushed off the counter and moved closer. He reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your cheek for just a second too long. âGood thing. Wouldnât want ya to break, sweetheart.â
Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. This was... different. You felt your face heat up, and you quickly turned your attention back to your coffee. âUh... right.â
Loganâs smirk didnât fade as he stepped back. âSee ya around, darlinâ.â
You watched him leave the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest for reasons you couldnât quite explain. What was that? Was that what Jean and Ororo had been talking about? Or was it just him being old-fashioned, after all he was over 200 years old, and you were a mere 25. He was the Wolverine, and you were just a young teacher that happened to be an X-Men.
---
It had been a week since you had gone out clubbing with Jean and Ororo and you were too far gone in your own mind. You started observing things more carefully, the way Logan would rest his hand on your lower back when he was walking you to your next class, how he occasionally brought you snacks when you were in the lab, telling Hank that they were only for you, and finally, how he really only called you nicknames.
Ever since that realization, you tried to keep it hidden, to process it on your own. After all, guys didnât like you. You werenât exactly the kind of girl they wanted.
Logan noticed how you got more nervous around him, your heart beating faster, how you seemed to stumble over your words more often than not around him. At one point, he asked Jean about it, to which she revealed her and Ororo did what he couldnât.
He ended up outside of your office, hearing you talk to one of the senior students about which colleges were the best for his major. You assured him that just because it was September, doesnât mean heâs too late to apply.
Logan knocked on the door as you said that the door was unlocked. He hadnât seen your outfit today, a white pencil skirt paired with a skintight, long sleeve peach colored shirt. Your hip was leaning against the front of the desk next to where the student was sitting.
Kean looked between the two of you, before quickly gathering his things and the brochures you gave him for various colleges.
"Remember to look into some engineering programs! Iâd think theyâd be great for you!" You called out after Kean, watching as the student hurried out of your office. The door clicked shut behind him, and you sighed, thinking of the next round of paperwork waiting on your desk. You were about to walk around your desk to sit down when you noticed Logan still standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes focused on you in that intense way he often did.
"Sweetheart, got a minute?" Logan's voice was rough, familiar, and held that signature casualness that made it feel like he wasn't really asking.
You blinked, startled for a second before nodding. "Uh, yeah. Sure, Logan. What's up?"
Logan stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning you briefly. "You looked pretty wrapped up in your work. Thought you could use a break."
Your mind raced, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, Iâve been helping some of the seniors with their college stuff," you explained, motioning to the brochures still scattered across your desk. "It's that time of year where they start panicking about applications."
Logan smirked, his arms crossing over his chest. "You always keep yourself busy, donât ya, doll?"
You rolled your lower lip while humming as your answer. You crossed your arms, watching as Logan came closer to you, standing almost toe to toe with your pointy short peach colored heels.
âYou finally figured it out then, didnât ya?â He asked.
âI- well, uhâŚâ you stammered, suddenly feeling heat rush to your face. Why was Logan looking at you like that? And what did he mean by âyou finally figured it outâ? Were Ororo and Jean right?
Loganâs smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched you fumble over your words. "Youâre a genius, sweetheart. Iâm sure youâve noticed by now."
Your heart raced, and you felt your palms start to sweat. Why was he so close? You tried to focus on the conversation, on anything other than how your body was reacting to his presence. "N-noticed what?" you managed to get out, your voice sounding way less composed than you intended.
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far more than you were. "How Iâve been flirtinâ with ya for months now," he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.
Your brain short-circuited. Flirting? Logan? Flirting? With you? That didnât make any sense. Logan flirted with women who were⌠well, not you. He was the rough-around-the-edges kind of guy who went for women who were confident, flirtatious, and knew how to handle someone like him. You were the awkward genius who spent more time in the lab than anywhere else. Guys didnât flirt with you.
"Youâve beenâwait, what?" you asked, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Youâve been flirting with me?"
Logan chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, doll. Pretty sure everyone at the mansionâs noticed by now." His smirk returned as he added, "Except you, apparently."
Your face burned, and you tried to think back. Had he been flirting? The nicknames, the snacks, the casual touches⌠it all seemed so⌠normal for Logan. You thought he was just being friendly, maybe a bit protective like he was with some of the younger students.
"Iâ" You started to say something but stopped, unsure of what exactly to say. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath you. "Why didnât anyone tell me?"
Logan shrugged. "Didnât think it was their place. Figured youâd catch on eventually." His gaze softened, and he added, "Didnât expect you to be this oblivious, though. Kinda cute."
You were sure your face couldnât get any redder. "Iâm not⌠Iâm not oblivious," you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. "I just didnât think youâd be interested in someone like me."
Loganâs eyebrows shot up. "And why the hell not?"
"Because Iâm⌠me!" You motioned to yourself, like that explained everything. "Guys donât flirt with me, Logan. Theyâre usually intimidated or just⌠I donât know. Iâm not the kind of girl guys like."
You didnât have any friends until you came here, which was sad because you were 24 when you finally had some.
Sure, you tried to make some during college, joined the gardening club and the astronomy club, but whenever you talked people would never really listen to you.
You even tried going on a few dates with some guys from online dating apps. They were your age, but they were in their third year of college while you were already working on two masterâs degrees. You even had similarities with a few of them.
One guy liked Star Wars, and you went into a short rant about how the physics of it was wrong and even talked about a bunch of the lore behind it. Same with the other 2 dates you went on, they were all one and done.
Guys didnât like you. Thatâs just the way it was.
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. âThatâs the most ridiculous thing Iâve ever heard, doll. You think guys donât notice you?â
You crossed your arms, feeling defensive again. âI donât think, I know. Trust me, Iâve tried.â You paused, hesitating before you added, âIâm not exactly⌠good at this kind of thing. Social stuff, I mean. Iâm better at figuring out equations than people.â
Logan stepped closer, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. âYouâre wrong, sweetheart,â he said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. âYouâve got this idea in your head that no oneâs gonna want you because youâre too smart or too different, but that ainât true. Not even close.â
You blinked up at him, unsure of how to respond. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter in a way that felt both exciting and terrifying. âI just⌠I donât see why youâd be interested in me,â you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. âYouâre Logan. You could have anyone.â
Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. âYeah, but I donât want just anyone.â His eyes locked onto yours, his tone becoming serious. âI want you.â
Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. You had no idea what to say. Logan had been flirting with youâLogan, the gruff, no-nonsense guy youâd come to admire over the past yearâand youâd been completely clueless. How could someone like him, someone who seemed so out of your league, be interested in you?
âI⌠I donât understand,â you mumbled, still struggling to process everything. âWhy me?â
Logan sighed, as if he had been waiting for this question for months. âBecause youâre brilliant, Y/N. Youâve got this fire in you, this passion for everything you do. Youâre one of the smartest people Iâve ever met, and you donât let anyone push you around. And youâre so damn kind, even when you donât have to be.â He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to gather his thoughts. âYouâve got no idea how many times Iâve wanted to tell you, but⌠well, youâre not exactly the easiest person to talk to about feelings.â
You blinked. âIâm not?â
Logan smirked. âNo, sweetheart, youâre not. You overthink everything. Makes it kinda hard to tell you I like you without you analyzing it to death.â
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. âIâm sorry,â you muttered, not really knowing what else to say. âI just didnât think you⌠I didnât think anyone would⌠you know.â
Logan stepped even closer, so close that you had to sit on the edge of your desk. âWell, I do,â he said, his voice low. âAnd Iâve been waitinâ for you to figure it out.â
You stared up at him, your mind still reeling. All this time, Logan had been flirting with you, had liked you, and you hadnât noticed. And now, here he was, standing so close you could feel his breath on your skin, telling you exactly how he felt. It was overwhelming, to say the least.
"Logan, IâŚ" you started, but the words got caught in your throat. You didnât know what to say, how to respond to something like this. Part of you wanted to brush it off as some kind of misunderstanding, but the way he was looking at you, the way he had always looked at you, made it clear that this wasnât a joke or a misunderstanding.
He really liked you.
Logan smirked at your silence, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Speechless, huh? Thatâs a first," he teased, his voice low and rough in that way that made your stomach flip.
You shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Itâs just⌠I didnât think youâd be interested in someone like me. Youâre Logan, and IâmâŚ" You gestured to yourself awkwardly. "Me."
Logan frowned slightly, his brows pulling together. "What the hellâs that supposed to mean?"
You shrugged in response, turning your head downward to look down at your lap. It didnât last long, because Logan put his thumb on your chin, turning your head upright to look at him.
He noticed your expression change, you were someone who was easy to read, never really kept her emotions hidden well, or at least not to him. You went from big doe eyes and sad, pouty lips to flustered. Your eyes were curious and almost nervous and your pink lips, courtesy of the colored lip balm you always wore, were slightly parted.
Logan held your gaze, his thumb gently resting on your chin, and you couldnât help but feel your pulse quicken under his touch. He was so close now, close enough that the musky scent of him was filling your senses, making it even harder to think clearly.
"You really think Iâd waste my time on someone I didnât want?" Loganâs voice was low, gruff, but there was a softness to it that you hadnât heard before.
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words were jumbled in your mind, and all you could focus on was the way his rough fingers were still holding your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. The confidence he exuded was overwhelming. How could he be so sure, so calm, while you felt like your brain was on fire?
"Logan, IâŚ" you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his hand, the warmth of his body so closeâit was too much.
He let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Doll, youâre overthinking again."
Your lips pressed together into a thin line as you tried to get a handle on your spiraling thoughts. "Iâm just⌠surprised. I didnât thinkâŚ" You hesitated, the words feeling clumsy in your mouth. His thumb moved slightly up, still holding onto your chin but now brushing against your lower lip, making it more difficult to concentrate or come up with a single coherent thought.
No one had ever treated you like this, so kindly and⌠normally. You thought back to the only 3 dates you had ever been on during college, how none of them ever really tried to get to know you, or peel back the layers behind your smarts.
Because you werenât just smart, you loved gardening, and baking, hell, you even liked to dress cute. And out of all the guys, Logan never treated you like someone different. It was nice to be around someone like that, who embraced who you were rather than try and get you to bury it. Maybe it was his age? You remember reading an article from a psych organization about how younger women like older men because of emotional maturity-
Rough hands cupped your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. âHey, stop thinkinâ. What the hell could you be thinkinâ about right now?â
You gave a shy smile and shook your head gently, his hands still on your face. âNothinâ,â you mumbled, your voice softer than you intended. You tried to play it off like everything was fine, but Logan wasnât buying it.
Loganâs brow furrowed slightly, his thumb brushing your cheek now. "Youâre a terrible liar, sweetheart." His voice was low, that gravelly tone sending shivers down your spine.
You swallowed, your mind still racing as you searched for the right words. "I just⌠I donât get why youâd want me," you admitted, your eyes flicking away from his. "Youâre this⌠badass, Logan. Youâve been through so much. You could have anyone."
His hands stayed where they were, his touch gentle but firm as he guided your gaze back to his. "I told you, doll. I donât want anyone else. I want you."
You blinked up at him, still unsure of how to respond. It felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, and your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts. On one hand, Logan was the last person you ever thought would have feelings for you. On the other hand, here he was, being painfully honest, and you couldnât deny the sincerity in his voice.
"I justâŚ" you hesitated, biting your lip, "I donât know how to do this, Logan. Iâm not⌠Iâve never been good at⌠people. Relationships. I mean, Iâm good at math, science, and solving problems but notâthis."
Logan chuckled softly, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You donât gotta be good at it, Y/N. You just gotta be you." His voice softened, the teasing tone dropping away as he said, "Thatâs all Iâve ever wanted."
Your breath caught in your throat. He made it sound so simple, like it wasnât a big deal. But it was a big deal to you. You hadnât dated muchâhardly at all, if you were being honest. Relationships felt like another complex equation you couldnât quite solve.
"Logan, IâŚ" you started, but he cut you off, his hands dropping from your face to settle on your hips, pulling you just a little closer.
"You overthinkinâ again?" Logan smirked, one eyebrow raised.
You couldnât help but smile at that. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your voice quiet. It was hard to concentrate when he was so close, his hands resting on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Thatâs what I thought," Logan muttered, leaning in just enough that his forehead almost touched yours. "You donât gotta figure everything out right now, doll. Just⌠let it happen."
You stared at him, your mind whirling. "Let it happen?" you echoed, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying.
"Yeah," Logan said softly, his voice rough but soothing at the same time. "Stop tryinâ to solve it like itâs some kinda problem. Just be with me."
You blinked, your heart doing that weird fluttering thing again. Be with him? It sounded so simple when he said it like that. But you couldnât help the flood of doubt that kept creeping into your mind. What if you screwed it up? What if you werenât good enough at this? What ifâ
Loganâs hands tightened slightly on your hips, and he pulled you closer, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. "Y/N, youâre doinâ it again," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble in the space between you. "Youâre thinkinâ too much."
You sighed, biting your lip again. "I canât help it," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed. "Thatâs just how my brain works."
Logan chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "I know, darlinâ. But you donât gotta do that with me."
His words hung in the air, and you found yourself staring at him, completely unsure of what to say next. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever made you feel like it was okay to just⌠be. You were always the smartest person in the room, always expected to have the answers, to be the one in control. But with Logan, it felt different. He didnât expect you to be anything but yourself.
"IâŚ" You trailed off, your throat tightening. "I donât know how to not overthink things."
Loganâs smirk softened, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as they met yours. "Then Iâll just have to distract you, wonât I?"
Before you could even process what he was saying, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It was like everything around you froze for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to catch up with what was happening.
Logan was kissing you.
Logan.
Was kissing.
You.
Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. It wasnât what you expectedânothing in your life had ever felt like this. The warmth, the softness of his lips against yours, the way he held you like you were something precious⌠it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
If you wouldâve told your past self from five years ago, hell, even two months ago, that your first kiss would be with the Wolverine, you wouldâve thought it was some grand, cosmic joke. But there you were, hands fisting into Loganâs shirt, his lips gently pressing against yours like this was the most natural thing in the world.
It wasnât how youâd imagined your first kiss would go. Not that youâd spent a lot of time imagining itâhonestly, youâd been too busy with equations, papers, and research to even consider the prospect of someone being interested in you. But if you had pictured it, this wouldnât have been it. Not with a man like Logan.
His rough hands held you in place, strong but careful, as if he was hyper-aware of how delicate you felt in his grasp. You, who could bend nature to your will, whose intelligence far surpassed anyoneâs expectations, felt completely and utterly vulnerable in his arms.
When he pulled back, it wasnât by much. His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and slightly uneven. Loganâs lips curved into a smirk, one you could practically feel against your skin.
âWell,â he drawled, voice low and teasing, âthat didnât seem too bad, did it?â
You blinked up at him, still trying to recover from the shock. âI⌠I donâtâwhat just happened?â
Logan chuckled softly, his thumbs brushing small circles into your hips, keeping you grounded when your thoughts were spinning out of control. âI just kissed ya, sweetheart. And unless Iâm readinâ the situation wrong, you didnât mind too much.â
Your mind raced, heart hammering in your chest. âNo, Iââ You paused, biting your lip as you tried to form a coherent thought. âI didnât mind. Itâs justââ
âJust what?â Loganâs voice softened, his expression growing more serious as he studied your face.
âI wasnât expecting it.â You swallowed, looking away from him for a moment before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. âI didnât think someone like you⌠I mean, I didnât think you would- I didnât think anyone would- â
Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but when you didnât, he took a step closer. His hand was still resting on your hip, keeping you anchored to him, and the heat of his body was impossible to ignore. âDidnât think what, sweetheart?â
You swallowed, feeling the weight of his question press down on you. It was like all the words in your head had turned to static, and you couldnât figure out how to string a coherent sentence together. "I just⌠I donât know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Loganâs lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, but his eyes stayed serious. "You donât know, or you donât wanna say?"
You bit your lip, your mind still reeling from the kiss. The memory of itâsoft, unexpected, but not unwelcomeâwas playing on a loop in your head. You hadnât been kissed much, if at all, and the idea that Logan was the one to give you your first real kiss was still something you were trying to process.
But you couldnât lie, it was nice. You were 25, just had your first kiss, and suddenly you felt like a teenager in a Disney movie.
A grin slipped past your lips. "I just wasnât expecting you to kiss me, old man," you finally replied, your voice teasing but soft.
Loganâs eyebrows raised, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Old man, huh?" he murmured, his voice dipping into that gravelly tone that always made you feel a bit flustered. "Pretty sure that kiss just proved Iâve still got it."
You laughed softly, your hands still fisted in his shirt, though he didnât seem to mind at all. Loganâs smirk widened at the sound of your laughter, and you could feel the tension in the air start to ease, just a little.
"Yeah, maybe you do," you replied, your voice soft but teasing as you looked up at him, your heart still beating a little too fast from the kiss. "Guess you're not as rusty as I thought."
Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Rusty?" he repeated, his voice low and playful, with that gravelly edge that made your stomach flip every time. "You seriously thought I was rusty, sweetheart?"
You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite how close he was and how easily he seemed to get under your skin. "I donât know. I mean, youâre a couple of hundred years old. Thought you mightâve lost your touch."
Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as he leaned in just a little closer. "Oh, darlin'," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I ain't lost a damn thing."
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you couldnât think of a single thing to say. Loganâs confidence was overwhelming, but it wasnât just thatâthere was a tenderness in the way he looked at you, a softness in his touch that made your chest feel tight.
"Okay, okay," you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to deflect some of the attention. "Point taken."
Logan grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "Good," he said simply, his thumbs brushing lightly over your hips where his hands still rested. "âCause I donât wanna hear any more about me beinâ rusty or old. Got it?"
You nodded, biting your lip as you tried not to smile too much. "Got it."
chapter 3 of Sweet Dreams will be up tomorrow!
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic
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spiked woes and revenge
poly!darksun x fem!reader who is slipped a love potion [2.1k words]
prompts: from my darksun disciples @butt3rnugg3t : "darksun (I'm obsessed and I'm not sorry) with a reader who gets slipped a love potion without knowing?", as well as @underoospeterparker : "could I request poly!darksun x reader where they're both really protective over her"
CW: drugging someone, anxiety and concern, friends responding perhaps violently, hurt comfort, hateful and disgusting men being publicly shamed :)
James and Barty were just making their way up the stairs to the 7th year Gryffindor boys dormitory when they came upon a peculiar sight.
The door - which was notoriously ajar should any number of friends or acquaintances want to drop by (with the exception of first thing in the morning when they were dressing for school, the end of the day when they were getting ready for bed, or when there was a very pointed tie hanging by the handle) - was not only closed, but there were the telltale plumes of smoke indicative of a potion being brewed within the dorm room walls trailing beneath the ancient wooden door.Â
âBut what if he doesnât like me?â Came your muffled voice then; painted with worry andâŚtears?Â
âHey, itâs alright, Trouble.â James heard Sirius counter, though he didnât miss the anxious tilt of his voice. âYouâre impossible not to like.â
âYou know who likes you an awful lot?â Remus added then, though it sounded as though his attention was split between you and whatever else was happening in the dorm room. âJames and Junior.âÂ
âSo much, Y/N.â Lily agreed quickly, before her voice dropped as she hissed âwhere the sodding hell are they!?â to someone else in the room.Â
Yet whatever James thought he was about to walk into didnât even compare to the chaos that was their dorm room.Â
Regulus, Lily, and Remus were all hovering in front of a makeshift potions station in the centre of the room; Remus dutifully checking and rechecking the brewing instructions from a heavy tome, Regulus chopping and prepping the ingredients with an efficient precision, and Lily expertly stirring the potion whilst keeping an eye on the heat and adding the ingredients as Remus read them out and Regulus handed them to her.Â
Marlene and Dorcas stood to the side of the room, muttering angrily under their breaths as Marlene paced back and forth, though she kept her eyes trained dutifully on you, and Sirius had you wrapped up in one of their throws - so tightly that James wondered if it didnât actually hurt - like a muggle straight jacket as he rubbed your back and rocked you back and forth, Peter hovering over you with a tissue in one hand to catch falling tears and a fan in the other to keep you cool.Â
âWhat in the buggering fuck is going on here?â Barty spat then, apparently having come to his senses faster than James.
âHey! Hey Trouble, look! Look who it is!â Sirius started with forced enthusiasm, rubbing your back with new vigour as he tried to get you to turn your attention to your two boyfriends. You hardly spared them a glance.Â
âWhatâs the matter, angel? Whatâs with the tears?â James asked cautiously, easing his way over like the scene was a live wire ready to explode with one wrong move.Â
âIâm scared. I donât feel good Jamie.â You admitted, which James could very well see, though you immediately followed it up with âand what if he doesnât like me?âÂ
âWhat if who doesnât like you?â Barty asked then with a hard edge to his voice that saw James swatting at him warningly and Regulus hissing âwould you take it easy, Junior?âÂ
âMcLaggen.â Marlene answered for you; muttering the name with so much disdain that James almost wondered if it was the delivery itself that saw you burst into tears.Â
âMcKinnon, please.â Peter whined then, working overtime with both his tissue and his fan, looking like he was sweating nearly as much as you were and just as close to hysterics.Â
âJames?â Remus whispered, his eyes widening in warning. âA word, please?âÂ
Both James and Barty wretched their attention from you to join the impromptu potions class.Â
âListen, you cannot freak out; weâre brewing the antidote right now, but-â
âWhat antidote?â Barty interrupted darkly, causing Regulus to scoff at his oldest friend.
âJunior, what did we just say?â
âListen, the two of you have one job right now.â Lily spat then; her tone taking on a no nonsense quality that had both boys unintentionally standing up straighter. âAnd that one job is to help keep her calm, got it?â
âOkay. Alright.â James agreed breathily, but Lilyâs fiery gaze turned to Barty as she raised one perfectly arched auburn brow at him expectantly.
âMerlin,â He groaned, though they all watched him take a steadying breath, âokay, okay. What antidote are you brewing?â
âThe Love Potion Antidote.â Regulus responded quickly, handing Lily the wiggentree twigs that Remus directed him to prep, watching over the cauldron as the potion turned green.
âLove Potion?â James hissed.
âShe was slipped a Love Potion!?â Barty added.
âLooks like it.â Remus muttered darkly, though his face turned soft and pitiful when he looked over his shoulder to watch Sirius and Peter trying to keep you calm.Â
âAlice overheard him asking her to Hogsmeade next weekend after Astronomy class yesterday. She declined, obviously.â Lily explained.
âLooks like heâs not used to rejection.â Regulus spat bitterly.
âOh, heâs going to get used to rejection alright.â Barty muttered threateningly as he reached for his wand and made to storm out of the room, only for Marlene and Dorcas to block his exit.Â
âOne job.â Marlene demanded then, gesturing roughly in your direction.Â
âItâs orange, now what?â Lily asked, and Remus flipped the page in the tome.Â
âAdd castor oil until it turns blue.âÂ
âIâŚI think maybe I should go?â You whimpered then; sentence dotted by hiccups and sniffling as you seemed to be staring unseeingly into the room. âI should go, right?â
âHey, angel; youâre alright. I think youâre good here, huh?â James tried as he kneeled in front of you, and Peter seemed more than happy to step aside and make room for your boyfriends. âWhat do you say? Weâll justâŚhang out for a bit?â
âBut I think I should go see McLaggen.â You pouted, and James had to remind himself to tamp down the anger threatening to boilover at the sight of your tearstained face.Â
âOr,â Barty started then, and James prayed to the gods that he kept his wits about him, âwhy donât we try to relax for a bit, and if you still feel like seeing him afterwards, weâll all go pay him a visit?âÂ
Dorcas let out a humourless snort at that. âI vote for option number two.âÂ
âAndâŚ.weâre blue.â Lily announced then, snuffing the flame out from beneath the potion and transferring it to a vial. âWeâre gonna get you feeling better, Y/N.â She promised.Â
âOkay, thank you.â You all but sobbed in response.
âWhatâs with the restraints?â Barty asked then as he pulled at the blanket wrapped around your being.Â
âWe didnât handle being told to sit down very well.â Sirius responded for you, tightening his arm around your shoulders comfortingly as Peter rubbed a quickly growing red welt on the side of his cheek.Â
âIâm sorry.â You nearly wailed as Lily made for you. âI just feel like Iâm supposed to go find McLaggen!â
âDonât worry, Treasure.â Barty assured you with a disturbing amount of composure. âWeâre absolutely going to go find McLaggen, okay? Why donât we take the potion Lily made for you, hm? Get you feeling better first.â
Barty spoke over the discontented grumblings of Regulus and Remus who âalso helped make the potion, thank you very muchâ as he took the vial from Lily and held it up to your mouth. âBig drink, okay Tres?âÂ
James was glad that you were as agreeable as you were in your discontented state, simply wrapping your blanket clad hands around Bartyâs and allowing him to hold the vial as you drank the entire potion down.Â
âIt reads here that sheâs probably going to be very tired and more than a little confused for a while, but the anxiety and lust should be gone.â Remus explained; James could kiss the sod.Â
âGood. Good, yeah? Thatâs good, right angel? Do you feel better?âÂ
You sucked in a deep, shuddering breath as you licked a droplet of the potion from your lips and considered your answer before nodding slowly. âIâŚyeah. Yeah, I- I think so. I think I feel better.â
No sooner had the words left your lips did Lily grab her wand. âGreat! Ready to go?â She asked no one in particular, but both Marlene and Dorcas answered in the affirmative immediately.Â
âWhere are you three going?â James asked cautiously.Â
âYou know,â Dorcas drawled casually as she began rummaging through Siriusâ trunk, though the long-haired boy hardly seemed to mind, âwe just realised that we havenât caught up with our old classmate in so long.âÂ
âA shame, really.â Marlene agreed as Dorcas filled her bag with various dung bombs, charmed firecrackers, and other various pranking paraphernalia. âAll this talk about inter house unity, and we neglect a vast majority of our peers.âÂ
âWeâre going to change that.â Lily declared as she swiped the Marauders Map from Remusâ desk. âStarting with McLaggen.âÂ
And with that, Lily shot you a wink, Dorcas a salute, and Marlene blew a kiss before the three witches closed the door to the boysâ dorm behind them.
âCan I take this off now?â You asked then, wriggling under Sirius arm as you tried to free yourself from your blanketed prison.Â
âOnly if you promise to keep your hands to yourself.â Sirius teased as he unravelled the blanket, causing you to fluster as you shot Peter your best doe eyes.Â
âI really am sorry, Pete.âÂ
âOhâŚitâs alright.â Peter offered with a nervous laugh, though he winced as he prodded the tender portion of his jaw that was well on its way to bruising. âIâm just glad youâre feeling better.âÂ
âWhat the hell happened?â Barty asked then; shoving the offended blanket off your shoulders and taking the fan from Peter (rather roughly, though Peter seemed more than glad to be effectively dismissed from his job) and started fanning you off.Â
âIâŚI honestly donât even know? Professor Slughorn was handing out chocolates to us after class today for a job well done, and whilst he was doing that, McLaggen approached me again asking if I wasnât entirely sure I didnât want to go to Hogsmeade with him.â
You were interrupted by James and Sirius grumbling, Remus scoffing, and Barty muttering something along the lines of âask first, respect the answer, fuck faceâ under his breath.Â
âAnd I said no, and left. I didnât drink anything or-â
âDid you eat the chocolate?â Regulus interrupted then, ignoring his best friendâs murderous gaze for daring to speak over his Treasure.Â
âWhat?â
âThe chocolate that Slughorn handed out. Did you eat it?â
âWell, yeah, but-â
âBefore McLaggen spoke to you, or after?â Regulus continued, inching closer and closer to being hexed straight to hell by Barty.Â
âAfterâŚâ
âYou think he tampered with the chocolate?â Remus asked then, earning him a shrug of Regulusâ shoulders, though his head moved side to side in semi-confirmation.Â
âItâs the only thing that makes sense.â
âThe only thing that makes sense,â Barty spat venomously, âis a fucking dementors kiss for attemptedâŚwhat? What was his plan?â
No one had the chance to answer, though, when the castle walls shook with the force of a boom coming from outside.Â
The seven of you all stood and crammed your heads into the alcove of the window to see almost an entire acre of the castle grounds coated in a thick, sludgy yellow substance and one individual slipping and sliding as he tried to make his way out of the mess. Hexes and jinxes were being shot at him from three sides - clearly the doing of Marlene et al., if James recognised her duelling strategies correctly.Â
âWellâŚâ You offered cautiously. âI guess none of us have to go find McLaggen now?âÂ
Barty seemed wholly unconvinced, but by the time the group of you got to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning to find McLaggen unable to speak to any femme (student or faculty alike) without first announcing âMy name is Tiberius McLaggen and I am a sexual predator.â for all to hear, Barty relented on his insistence to defend your honour.Â
âThe girls beat you to it.â Youâd whispered into his cheek before stamping it with a kiss.
James figured this was probably the only time Barty would ever allow himself to be outdone.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#barty gate#bartyholics anonymous#poly!darksun#poly!darksun x reader#poly!darksun x you#poly!darksun fic#poly!darksun ficlet#poly!darksun imagine#poly!darksun blurb#james potter x barty crouch jr#james potter x reader#james potter x you#barty crouch jr x reader#barty crouch jr x you#james potter#barty crouch jr#fem!reader#hurt/comfort#poly!darksun fluff#poly!darksun hurt/comfort#darksun#sunkiller#poly!sunkiller#poly!sunkiller x reader#poly!sunkiller x you
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Fall for Me
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't think he's good enough for you, but still wishes he could be your guy. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Longing, insecurities, "just friends" (for now), Steve is a good friend, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Friday Feels inspired by a nonnie.â¤ď¸ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
It was a special kind of torture for Bucky to watch the person he loved flirt with someone else.
To be fair, he couldn't say for sure that you were flirting. Being friendly? Yes. You had a warm and welcoming personality, the kind he was drawn to the moment you two crossed paths months ago. One of the things he loved about you was how genuine you were. It was only natural that you pulled others in as well. Your compassion, charm, beauty, everything called to him.
You were the whole package, inside and out.
âWhat the hell am I doing here?â He muttered. He hadn't wanted to go to the bar, but Steve assured him it was a hole-in-the-wall sort of place. Not a lot of patrons on a night like this. Somewhere no one would bother them. He added at the last second that you were going.
Bucky grabbed his leather jacket to go as soon as those words left Steveâs mouth.
Instead of having a drink with you like he wanted or just talking, he simmered in silence in a booth while you stood at the bar. He narrowed his eyes as the guy you were talking to moved an inch closer. A bit too close for his liking.
Steve said his name was Will. They had met each other at some point in passing. Short blonde hair and a trimmed beard. Ex-military, but still built like he had a war to fight. Behind the guyâs blue eyes lurked pain, guilt, and regret that most would miss due to his general stoic demeanor. Bucky could relate all too well to horrors that haunted even the strongest of men.
But when Will looked at you, his eyes lit up. They held a sense of longing. Hope.
Once again, Bucky could relate all too well because that was how he looked at you.
âYouâre doing that staring thing again,â Steve said, grabbing a beer from the bucket and setting it down in front of him. âJust talk to her.â
Bucky took a swig, but didn't take his eyes off you. He was afraid if he looked away that Will might convince you to leave with him. âTalk to her about what?â
His best friend sighed. âYou know what.â
Steve knew how he felt about you. Talking about his feelings wasn't easy, but he had to tell his best friend. And it wasn't the first time Steve encouraged him to speak up. He said you had the right to know so the two of you could figure out how to move forward, whether as a couple or just friends, instead of dancing around it.
But how could Bucky admit how he felt when he didn't deserve someone like you?
âThereâs nothing to talk about,â he said.
âBullshit.â
âWe're friends,â Bucky stated. The words tasted as bitter as the beer he sipped. No, not bitter. He couldn't feel that way just because he had a piece of you when he wanted all of you.
Was he selfish for that?
He nearly shattered the bottle in his hand when you giggled at whatever Will said. Something akin to jealousy settled in his chest and he had no right to feel that way. The two of you weren't together. You were single and didn't owe him a thing.
But he knows if you gave him a chance, heâd treat you well. Better than any other guy before him. He would do his best to make you happy. Maybe that wasn't enough.
âWill is a good guy, but he isn't you, Buck. Youâre still one of the best guys I know,â Steve said.
âYou don't have to kiss my ass, punk,â he muttered, immediately regretting it. He was only trying to help and God knows he had done more than enough for him over the years.
Steve shook his head. âAnd you don't have to feel sorry for yourself, jerk.â
âIâm not,â he whispered. Maybe he was. He was sorry for so many things.
As if you sensed his sadness, you looked over your shoulder and met his gaze. You smiled at him, the kind of smile that stole the very breath from his lungs and made his head spin. He wanted to believe it was a smile you reserved only for him. And the softness in your beautiful eyes, he imagined he could see his future in them.
Could you see the endless love he had for you in his?
His heart ached when you turned away and put your hand on Willâs arm. Of course, you were attracted to the guy. Why wouldnât you be? The thought of you kissing him though, being intimate with him? He felt sick enough to finally look away.
Bucky glanced at his distorted reflection in the beer bottle. A long time ago, he would've called himself handsome. Not because he was full of himself, but because he knew himself then. He knew how to walk the line between confidence and cockiness. He was full of life and wonder once. Now the weight of his sins showed in how he carried himself.
Sins you never judged him for.
âJamie? Are you okay?â
Steve nudged him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was so lost in his mind that he hadnât heard you call out to him. He shouldâve known since you were the only one who called him Jamie. When he looked up from his seat, he saw that you were no longer standing next to Will as he was still at the bar. And there was nothing but concern in your gaze as you set your drink down on the table.
âWhat? What happened?â He asked, not smooth at all.
Your eyes flickered to Steve and then back at him. âI asked if youâre okay. You donât look too well.â
âNot feeling so great,â he said, which wasnât a lie. âThis placeâŚâ
âOh,â you said, sliding into the booth beside him. He inhaled, your sweet scent soothing the pain in his heart and making it race all at once. âWell, why donât we head out? Thereâs no reason to stay if you donât want to stay.â
He gently smiled. You were always willing to go with the flow and change plans if things ever got too loud or too much for him. âIâm fine. Besides, you just got your drink and you havenât had a chance to play pool with Sam or Natasha,â he argued. He didnât want to spoil your night.
You put your hand on his arm, but it seemed different than when you touched Willâs arm. This was tender, soothing. âIf being here is making you uncomfortable, then I donât feel like sticking around. Theyâll understand. Steve, please, back me up on this.â
âSheâs right. You two should go,â Steve said, conveniently leaving himself and the others out of the equation.
Bucky spared Will a glance, who was now talking to the guys he went into the bar with. He swallowed hard before the next words left his mouth. âWhat about your new friend?â
âYou are my friend, Jamie,â you said. He winced inwardly at the reminder. Friends. You were just friends. âDonât worry about him. Letâs just go. How about a movie at your place? Something low-key so you feel better.â
âYou sure?â He asked, wondering just how eager he looked to leave with you.
âIâm sure,â you smiled, making his heart warm again.
âOkay. You convinced me,â he said. Not that it wouldâve taken much. Your smile could bend the will of just about anyone.
âYou know, I hear healthy conversations are also good to help people feel better,â Steve chimed in, earning an elbow to the side from Bucky.
You raised an eyebrow and slid out of the booth. âYeah. Sure. Jamie and I can have a healthy conversation and you all enjoy the rest of the night.â You offered Bucky a hand to help him out. He didnât want to let go. âCâmon. We have a movie waiting for us.â
âYes, maâam,â Bucky teased, proud of himself when you giggled.
Steve gave him an optimistic smile and he couldnât help but return it. He wasnât sure if Will had given you his number or if you planned to see him, but maybe heâd take a chance and tell you he had fallen for you. Maybe, if he was lucky, you had fallen for him, too.
Just maybe.
And maybe, just maybe, this could be a thing? Did Will give you his number? Will Bucky say how he feels? What's going to happen? Love and thanks for reading! â¤ď¸
Masterlist â Bucky Barnes Masterlist â Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#bucky fic#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes imagine#sebastian stan x reader#the winter soldier
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sponsors
max verstappen - team principal au
cw: smut/pwp, team principal au, driver!reader, bikinis, age gap (20/45), yachts, teasing, protective!max, objectification/misogyny, max makes it all better, praise (kink), power dynamics
a/n: happy birthday max verstappen and happy ten years at formula one!
a big part of formula one was to get sponsors, very few people could pay for a team on their own. thus, the hefty logos across the racer's jackets. and while teams like ferrari had decades long sponsors, a new team like verstappen racing had to get what they could get.
and that max having to put his best media smile on and dazzle any prospective sponsors. but, max also needed your help. so when he asked you join him on his boat during the mid-season break you happily smiled and said, "of course."
you learned early on that a lot of men liked you because you were young, pretty and knew a lot about cars. but, you never thought that it would get to this level. while you thought you'd be sitting beside him over drinks.
not the one serving them. in a bikini.
"mister verstappen." you said as you picked up the bikini from the bed in one of the rooms on the boat. it was white and looked like it would cover very less.
max came up behind you and placed his hands on your hips, "i know... a little unconventional. i promise, i'm not whoring you out. just serve some drinks and that'll be it."
"it feels degrading."
max kissed your neck and replied, "don't worry. no one will try to touch you. i'll make sure of that." while he wanted the sponsors, you were still his. so he'd make sure that you were protected, that was a promise.
you turned your head to look at him and he kissed your forehead. before you went for his lips. you held onto the bikini tighter, "will this be good for the team?"
max nodded, "of course, it means we can get those upgrades for the second half of the season. also their company will make us seem more legitimate."
"then let's do it." then smiled at your boss, a little more assured. you could handle the leering, you were used to it. but with a promise from max about your safety, you felt more assured that it'll all work out.
a white bikini with your hair back a little, paired with heeled sandals and the chain around your neck that had max's logo on it. you were more quiet than usual, letting your boss talk business. you knew these men were from italy, and while they eyed you while you were at the bar getting their drinks, you kept any words to yourself.
this was business, as max once told you. you raced, he did all the behind the scenes work. that was what a team principal did. you brought the drinks over on a platter and gave max's his first.
you bent over to be closer to your boss and he patted your face with his rough hand which made you smile. he whispered in your ear, "good job, did you make the drink a little stronger for them?"
you looked at him and smiled. you looked almost proud of yourself. max had to plaster a smile on his face to keep it together. you were eye candy right now, and even max was feeling the effects of it. when you pulled away, and tried to give the other drinks to the men across from max, one of them stuck their foot out a little bit.
you tripped, but didn't spill a drop of liquor on the floor. you caught yourself even in the heels and made a loud yelp noise.
"she's a better server than a driver." one of the men spoke in italian. impressed that you didn't see the drinks get spilled. he did almost see your ass spill out of the bottom of the swim suit.
max's eyes stayed on you as you tried to compose yourself. he could tell that almost tumble made you a little shaky, "i assure you, she is a lot better on the track." he smiled.
"is she... for sale tonight?" the other man asked as you handed him his drink. max knew you didn't speak italian, so you had no idea what was being said about you. the man continued, "she's beautiful and would be a fairly good ride for the evening. what do you say mister verstappen?"
max relaxed against his seat and chuckled, "my drivers are not whores." then took a sip of his drink then looked to you. he said in english, "she is one of the best racers i know." and you looked at him.
you beamed at your boss as you held the platter to your chest. when you went to put it back at the bar and come back to the three men, max adjusted his posture and allowed you room to sit on his lap. you took it as him eager to be close to you, but in reality he was staking an ownership.
no, max wasn't going to whore you out to these businessmen. firstly, he had too much respect for you, and secondly, you were already his.
"i do not like when those touch what is mine." he spoke in italian as he got an arm around your waist, "she is a driver for verstappen racing, not a street walker. do not refer to her as such."
one of the businessmen laughed, "always stubborn, verstappen. but i am impressed that you managed to find someone so young. look at how she is in your lap. trained like a puppy."
you looked to max in the hope he'd translate, but instead he rubbed your head. you rested up against. he had his drink and chatted, he shifted the topic from the beautiful woman in his lap.
but yet, the curl of jealousy stayed in max's gut. he hid it well and when the other men tried to make comments, he brushed them off. he already made his position known. even if throughout the afternoon, he wanted to punch these men in the face. but, that wouldn't look good on him. and it would scare you. you've seen max get loud during races, but never, even get violent.
he kept himself composed through two gin and tonics that you happily served to him. but when he waved the men off the boat at the end of the afternoon with a promise of a healthy sponsor contract, max's gazed turned to you.
these men were talking about the entire afternoon like you were a piece of meat on sale. and maybe max invited it by dressing you up like that. but, it still didn't make it right. max soon had his arm around you and you looked up at him with a smile.
he kissed you on the lips and pulled you closer to him. "you did so well." he said before he gave you another kiss, "but i want you out of this now. i think this will be for my eyes from now on." his hand dropped to your ass where he gave is a good squeeze.
you both ended up in the bedroom once more, your kicked those stupid sandals off and before you could get the bikini off. he stopped you. you looked at him and he looked back at you.
"i want to take it off."
take it off of you was like unwrapping a gift, your skin warmed from the afternoon sun as you smiled at him warmly. oh, you were divine. but, he bet you knew that. he got you naked save for the necklace.
you laid out on the bed and smiled at him, "we did good today."
he took off his button up shirt and took it off his shoulders. he could feel your hungry gaze on him as he got undressed. he smiled a little, "you did excellent." once he was naked, he got into bed with you and took your face in his hands, then pulled you in for a searing kiss.
you squirmed against him a little before you melted a little in his touch. your heart beat picked up and you moaned against his lips. you were so naked and vulnerable for him.
"my prize driver." he remarked as he pushed hair out of your face and chuckled, "you are perfect. turning heads wherever you go." he laughed a little, "you make me proud."
and you felt something bloom in your chest as you said, "thank you sir." then yelped when he got on top of you and rested on his heels. his cock stood at proper attention.
he thought about how he took your virginity. you had admitted one night that you had never slept with someone before and your best friend was a rabbit in your suitcase. so even now, as he rubbed his cock up against against your wet slit, it still excited him.
of course he wasn't going to whore you out, not when the only cock you had was his. he took you by the hips and then guided his cock into your sweet sex. he shuddered a little as he pushed all the way in.
you really were the prettiest thing at the paddock, with your darling smile and cute laugh. you knew how to have a good time and while you were stubborn at times, you melted into your boss' grasp like honey. you were painfully sweet, even when max told you to put on your winning face before you raced. max was fortunate that he got a hold of you before anyone else.
"you did so good for me, schat." he spoke to you softly as he held onto your highs and rutted against you, "you played the part so well. i hate what those men said about you. they treated you like meat, took everything in me to not kill them."
you pouted a little as you held onto the covers under you, "what did they say about me?" you knew the conversation was animated, but you could only pick up a few words. but their gazes on you were intense.
max pushed into you further, making you rest on your tailbone, "they're dogs, my little racer." he said with hate in his tone, "they're dogs who deserve nothing. for men that rich, they are stupid. they should know that you're mine."
"did they want to fuck me?" you asked as you tried to reach for his shoulders. his cock hit against the softest parts of you and your back arched a little from the feeling.
max nodded, "but, i'd never let them do that." he assured you, "no, no, no, never. that was why you were so close to me for most of the afternoon. i didn't want them alone with you."
you looked at him and nodded, "my hero."
max smiled a little as he leaned forward, hiking your hips up more to hit at just the right angle. his lips captured yours as you moaned against the feeling. it all felt perfect. and while you felt a little objectified, it was hard to do so when max made sure that you felt special. that you were more than just a sex object.
"you did good." he said, "you did excellent. thank you for putting up with them. i promise i won't make you do that again." he kissed at your jaw with love, "no one can touch you the way i can. alright? you're mine."
you nodded, "of course, sir. always sir!" you held onto him a little tighter as the pleasure swarmed your gut. the kissed got hotter as your bodies moved together. you didn't realize what max meant by being 'his', you thought simply it was that you were part of his team. that sex was just an added bonus.
but that wasn't what max meant, he wanted you in every way he could have you. you were the subject of his fantasies, he had seen you in every way a man could. the dinners he took you out to, the better car he put you in. the way he held your lower back while you walked through the paddock. you assumed it was because you were a good driver! not that max wanted you carnally. silly little driver.
"you're so special." he said, "you knew how to turn heads and make anyone fall in love with you." he was talking like he hadn't staked a claim on you. like he hadn't taken you under his wing to be the best driver you could be. you were cute, sweet, max didn't want any bad men to hurt you.
you whimpered against his movements, getting louder. but thankfully no one could hear you. you knew of the rumour mill surrounding you and max. what people had said both in the tabloids and in the garage. it wasn't hard to draw conclusions when max was constantly with you, his hands on you that could be seen as romantic. but, when others asked about your relationship with max verstappen, you simply smiled and said, "he's the best boss ever."
even when he was bruising your sweet pussy. his cock nudging up against your g-spot which made you whimper and squirm. it was cute, you were cute. most team principals didn't bed their drivers daily, but there were always exceptions.
"please, sir." you said, "it feels good!" you clung to him a little tighter and he responded with heavy kisses.
max could feel his heart hammering in his chest. he could feel your nails into his shoulders as you held onto him. his cock was perfect inside of you. he knew if he got your knocked up by next week, there would be no surprises. except maybe for you. even though he frequently finished inside of you. you loved the feeling and who was max to deny his superstar.
he felt something run up his spine as he continued to move against you. when he broke the kiss and looked at you with those blue eyes of him. he soaked in the sight of you, on the verge of climax.
his beautiful driver.
with a few more heavy thrusts of his hips, you squirmed further and climaxed around his cock. you clenched onto him and almost bit into his strong shoulder as you felt your heart beat pick up. a strained moan left you lips before you relaxed on the bed.
max drank in that sight, he kissed your cheek and said, "perfect. like always." because he pushed you up further, almost bending you in half to really work his cock into you. even with the dull throb in his knee (which made him briefly think about the age gap), he continued to bully his cock into you.
it didn't take long before he finished inside of you as well. he tensed up for a moment as he held onto your hips. he hissed through grit teeth as the pleasure came down on him. only you could make him lose control like that.
"good girl." he said as he put your bottom half back down on the bed and pulled out of you. you laid out in a heated mess on the bed and he laid down beside you.
he kissed your neck and shoulder as you settled down. he praised your silently with kissed along your heated skin. next time he wouldn't put you in that bikini, but if it was just you two on the boat. then maybe he'd put you in it for his eyes only.
-
by the time the season started up again, you were all smiles with a new logo on your uniform. the updates to the car were made to both yours and your teammates. and when you held the trophy over your head for the following grand prix, max couldn't help but beam as he clapped.
"we did it, sir!" you chirped as you pulled him into a hug. your joy at winning warmed him, just as you were going to warm his cock come evening as a thank you for getting you closer to the wdc. <3
#bunny writes#team principal!max#tp!max#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula one smut#f1 smut#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen#max smut#mv33 fic#mv33 x reader#mv33 smut#mv1 smut#mv33#mv1#mv1 x reader
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gullible
Pairing: Miguel OâHara x F!Reader
Prompt: Breeding
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, a lot of body descriptions, reader is on the curvier side, some grinding/dry humping, male masturbation (barely), ovulation, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 4.7k
A/N: lets say spider society is funded by the most rish spider-people and thats what the dinner was for. also this is long asf- i blacked out im so sorryÂ
Itâs a formality. This whole dinner party. Itâs something Miguel gets invited to every year and every year he dreads going to it, having to play posh in order to get some extra funding from the higher-ups. Although, he doesnât mind too much this year because heâs bringing you.Â
Heâs fidgeting, and complaining about his collar when you come out of the bathroom, youâre asking him if you look okay and he knows his answer before he looks at you. He knows you look good, he tells you so before turning to you and only reassures you upon gazing at the outfit.Â
This dress is new, and youâre worried your tummy might be too big for it so youâve thrown a coat over to hide it. Miguel knows what the coat is really for but doesn't mention it, not wanting to risk making you so uncomfortable you change out of everything. He compliments your new perfume instead, winning a confused smile from you. Youâre fidgeting with the coat on the ride to the venue, saying that itâs itchy and youâre getting too warm. He suggests you take it off but you gently refuse and stop complaining.Â
He gets dragged away from you the moment he walks through the door. He hates leaving you alone at these things, he knows you donât socialize well and he knows the men here want a taste of you. Heâs anxious to get back to you for the entire hour these deep pockets talk his ear off. He hasnât been listening, heâs thinking about you. Heâs almost overwhelmed at the love he has for you, heâs never felt this way before. Heâs missing you even though you guys are in the same place, even though heâs only been away from you for an hour. He canât get out of there fast enough, shoving the doors of the conference room open and searching for you immediately.Â
When his eyes find you, they find that youâve already taken your jacket off and youâre socializing with an entire group of people. Theyâre conversing with you comfortably. You bring a smile to his face as you laugh at someoneâs joke. His eyes rake over your body, finally taking in your true outfit.Â
It has him stiffening in his pants. Youâre wearing a dark red pencil dress, the same color as his suit. It hugs your curves perfectly, doing justice to your plush thighs, your ass and showcasing the curve of your back. His favorite part though, is the way it hugs your front. Your boobs look great, sure, but itâs emphasizing the little pooch that sits at the bottom of your stomach.Â
You hate it, saying it makes you look fat, that you wish you could get rid of it⌠but in Miguelâs eyes? Itâs just proof youâre the perfect woman to mother his children. He came to this conclusion before he even knew about your tummy. He had seen your wide hips, your care toward others, how good you are with children, and decided he wanted you.Â
Once he got you to date him, to fall in love with him, he found out about your little belly fat. Youâd been sucking it in as much as you could whenever you were around him, sometimes wearing higher pants than necessary in hopes of the jeans pushing your stomach down. It broke his heart to hear you so insecure but there was also a little flame igniting in his stomach.Â
The flame never left. He didnât tell you about it, but every time he noticed your belly pushing against your tank top, or a tight shirt, whenever he felt your soft tummy on his hard stomach- through the t-shirt you insist on wearing while he fucked you- the fire raged brighter. He added it to the list of reasons youâd be an amazing child-bearer. Heâs obsessed with the protective fat over your womb.Â
He watches you cover your stomach with your arm as you laugh, not even realizing youâre trying to hide his favorite part of you. Heâs walking over to you before he plans out what heâll say. He just stands beside you, inhaling your sweet perfume, and waiting for you to feel his presence, it doesn't take long. You turn to him with a surprised smile and give him an excited hug. âMiguel!â
His heart expands at your excitement upon his arrival, he wraps an arm around your waist and presses you against him. Your voice is muffled as you speak to him. âI feel like I havenât seen you in forever!â Heâs not listening though.Â
To any outsider, it looked like Miguel just really missed you, when in reality, he was making sure you could feel what you do to him. You let out a pretty sigh into his ear once you feel his bulge press into you. Your eyes are on his as you pull away, searching them for a reason as to why heâs hard but all heâs too busy taking in every piece of you.Â
Youâre both lost in your own world, you donât realize the people you were talking to have moved on from your conversation, talking with some other people now and leaving you and Miguel to your moment.Â
His hands are resting on your hips before one slides behind you, pressing his open palm against the small of your back before the other presses against your lower stomach, right over your uterus. Miguel can feel your stomach tense under his hand as you suck in, tightening your muscles but Miguel just tuts and tilts his head at you, disappointed. âDonât do that, cariĂąo. I love her.â Your gaze is on the floor as you listen to him, he sounds drunk, his voice is distant and hazy.Â
His head is cloudy with fantasies. He can see your stomach, how it would grow and swell as you create his child inside you. He thinks about how beautiful you would look with your womb stuffed full of him. He swears sheâs calling for him- your womb- begging him to fill her up, paint your walls white until his seed takes, maybe a little more after that just to be safe.Â
You can see his thoughts racing, you can tell heâs working himself up, you just donât understand what is doing this to him. His hand on your stomach is making you a bit self-conscious, but your muscles have been too tight for too long, and they give out. Your soft tummy relaxes and presses into his hand, pulling a relieved sigh from Miguel. His breathing picks up and his eyebrows furrow before he looks up from your stomach, looking into your eyes instead. âYou know I love this, right?â
He looks back down at your belly as he readjusts his palm, opening his hand wider to cover more of your pooch. You whine and shift uncomfortably, the way his hand is resting over your womb is hot, itâs turning you on but youâre barely aware of that fact because anxiety is overrunning everything. Youâre waiting for Miguel to slip up, for you to see a crack in his lies. You appreciate the attempt at making you feel better about your body but you donât- you canât believe him.Â
Until you look up into his eyes.Â
Theyâre drowning in need, his pupils entirely blown out, covering most of the red in his eyes. Heâs gazing at you as he slowly pulls you in and presses his plump lips against yours with a moan. You pull away quickly and look around, a few people looking your way at Miguelâs louder-than-safe moan. You look back up at him to warn him, tell him to keep it down but the words die on your tongue. His eyes are hazy and confused, still looking at your lips like he canât figure out why you pulled away. You smile at him incredulously and pull his hand away from your back but he whimpers when you try and take his hand off your womb.Â
âMiguel, weâre public, baby.â Your voice is soft yet frantic, and his eyes are still begging you. âPeople are staringâŚâ That gets a reaction, his face twitches and his eyes clear and harden a bit. He looks around the room with a snarl and you have to pull his gaze back to you.Â
âHey! Whatâs gotten into you?â The question hurts him a bit as he thinks it over, he really is trying to pinpoint why this is affecting him so much. All he can focus on is you though, your scent enveloping him like a cloud. It smells like everything good, like flowers and honey, but also clean like soap and linen. Itâs suffocating him, stopping all thought.Â
âYou smell so good, amor. What is that? I donât recordar buying este para ti.â His voice is muffled as he buries his face in the top of your head, looking for the source of your scent. Youâve had enough, heâs doing all of this in the middle of the party, and youâre starting to feel a bit embarrassed. Youâre pushing him back, slowly walking him to the edges of the party. You feel people staring until you finally hit a wall, pushing a grunt from Miguel. âWhat is up with you?â Your tone is gentle but youâre getting concerned, youâve never seen him like this.
His eyes are shut tightly as his brows furrow and he lets out a pathetic whimper. âIâm sorry. I- I donât know.â His hand leaves your stomach to bury in his hair and you instantly miss its warmth. You take a step closer to him, waiting for him to say more. âCan we leave? I think weâve been here long enough, yeah?â Heâs already pulling your hand to the exit.Â
Heâs silent in the car and on the drive home, constantly running his hand through his hair, and bouncing the leg that isn't on a pedal. Youâre taking in his frantic state and notice that through all this, heâs still hard. âMiguelâŚâ He gasps softly and turns to you for a moment. âWhatâs wrong?
âI donât-â His eyes dart to your form. â Your dress for one.â You glance down and wish you hadnât, you see your stomach split into rolls, folding the fabric of your dress, accentuating the itâs softness. Your arms cross over it, trying to hide and Miguel groans.
âDonât do that, I told you.â His voice sounds painful and strained. You look back at him to see a distressed look on his face and his hand palming his throbbing cock through his suit pants. âI fucking love her.â His breathing gets heavy, causing him to inhale more of your painfully sweet perfume. âWhat the fuck is that smell, baby?âÂ
You can hear him take a big inhale of the air in the car and a shiver runs up his spine. âIâmâŚâ You struggle to round up enough thoughts to answer him, too distracted by the way he crushes his dick against his thigh and the little moans that accompany his movements. âIâm not wearing perfume, Miguel.â
That's when it hits him. Why heâs so desperate for you, why your scent is clouding his every thought and taking over his mind⌠Youâre ovulating.Â
A broken groan rips from his throat at the realization, he speeds the rest of the way home. When you guys finally arrive he parks in the driveway and unlocks the doors, but doesnât move. âI need you to get out, bonita.â
You feel arousal settle in your stomach as you press your legs together. Miguelâs head falls back, and his hair falls with his head, revealing his red-tipped ears. His hips are still gently thrusting into his hand, the other is squeezing the wheel so hard you thought it might crack. âI- I need a moment, baby. Iâll explain everything, just go inside and-â He lets out a breathless curse and his hips stutter against his palm. âAnd go change and just- just wait for me, okay? Iâll be there in a moment, go.â Youâre in a trance as he speaks but the force in his command shakes you out of it.Â
You leave the car silently and make your way to his place. You change out of your clothes in a daze, putting on a tank top and one of his sweatpants as you try to process what just happened. You grab a blanket and wait for Miguel on the couch.Â
Itâs only a few minutes before you hear his footsteps approaching the door. You stand in front of the doorway, oddly nervous as you watch the knob turn. His eyes meet yours the moment the door opens, his eyes stay on yours as he ducks through the frame, and takes his shoes off. They only tear from yours to take in your new outfit, your lower belly is the first place his eyes land. He gets that weak look in his eye youâve been seeing all night and his breathing picks up.
Miguel notices the way your stomach sucks in for a moment before relaxing, letting your body be as she is and it making him feral. He needs you so bad, he wants to just take you right here but he promised you an explanation. His eyes flicker up to you and he takes a shaky deep breath and tries to keep his voice steady. âHave a seat, hermosa.â
He looks nervous, he keeps wiping his hands on his suit pants as you walk over to sit on the couch, he seats himself at the other end, across from you. Youâre turned to him, legs crossed and laying in his lap. He turns to face you more and accidentally places your legs over his bulge, you can feel his thighs tense as he folds in half, letting out a choked moan that he tries to cover as a cough. You let him think he got away with it, he leaves your legs over his bulge, giving him enough stimulation to think straight.Â
Youâre looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain and he decides to just rip the band-aid off. âYouâre-â Arousal stabs in his stomach at the sentence he has to utter. He bites into his lip and tries to regulate his breathing. âYouâre o- ovulating.â Your legs shift in his lap as your expression falls, embarrassed. âAnd I can smell it.âÂ
Your legs pull out of his lap quickly and you bring your knees to your chest. âWhat?!â You sit up and tuck your legs under you, sitting on your calves. âYou can smell it? Iâm- God thatâs so- Iâm so sorry.â
His mind is getting hazy again without your contact. âNo. CariĂąo, not that. Itâs not like that.â He sighs at your confusion, he wishes you understood how desperate he was, maybe then you wouldnât ask him to talk so much, maybe youâd just let him fuck you already. âItâs more like pheromones.â
His hand slides across the couch cushion, wraps around your ankle and slowly drags you toward him. âItâs a change in your personal scent. Your body is trying to trick mine into breeding you, and guess what?â Heâs pulled you straight and is crawling up your body, slowly lowering himself against you so his bulge is pressing against your pussy, right over your clit.
 Heâs so hard heâs able to split your lips, rubbing the cloth of his sweatpants against your naked pussy and you gasp at the feeling. Your hands slide up from his biceps to pull his head in, anxiously awaiting the rest of his sentence. He smirks at the eager look on your face and leans in, just inches from your lips, and whispers against them. âMy body is so gullible for you.â You whimper.
You can feel your entire being heating up as he kisses you so intensely, like heâs trying to devour you. Heâs groaning against your lips and licking into your mouth as he wrestles his jacket off. Your hands shoot to his belt and struggle to get it off, whining into the kiss when his belt gets caught on the loops. He smiles into you and his hands come to rest over yours. âTranquila, bebe. Iâm the desperate one, remember?â
You shake your head his words and let him take his pants off while you wiggle out of his sweats. He moans at your bare pussy and his arms give out for a moment, almost dropping his weight on you before catching himself. âN-no panties?â His fingers are on you, rubbing your clit and spreading your slick all over you, coating his fingers in it. Heâs being downright messy.
âMiggy- Miguel, I need it so bad- need you so bad. I love you so much. Youâre so-â Your mind is already gone as you grind up into his fingers, overwhelmed by the added pleasure of his desperation. Heâs groaning into your ear as he humps himself against your thigh in time with his fingers.Â
âI donât know. I need-â You cut him off with a moan and he smiles as you apologize in between whimpers. âI think Iâd need to cum in you, cariĂąo. I need- My brain can only focus on-â He groans as you writhe against him, pushing your thigh into his crotch. His head lowers to rest against yours as his fingers speed up inside you. He can feel the way youâre coating them, soaking every crevice with your sweetness. He can feel the way theyâre sliding inside you, the way your walls are squeezing him, itâs too much. âI can only think about cumming in you, bebe.âÂ
Truthfully, his thoughts were more focused on what would come afterward, watching you swell with his child but you guys havenât even had a conversation about kids yet.
âNo.â You whine at him, he feels sadness shoot through his stomach but he tries to mask it. âJust fuck me, please?â Youâre looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, your hands around his neck pulling his face impossibly closer as your lips try and lock with his. He nods at you gently, he wants to give you anything you could possibly want.
âOkay, amor.â He kisses you quickly before taking his hands off of you and starts unzipping his pants, pulling himself out of his boxers while you wait. You watch him for a bit as he gets undressed before a thought pushes into your head.
What if I took my top off this time?Â
You think it over for a second, you want to be yourself with him, completely and heâs explained his love for your tummy over and over again.Â
What could be the worst that happens?
Images of Miguelâs face twitching in disgust flash through your head. Unrealistic scenarios of Miguel pulling away, starting to reject your advances and your kisses plague your brain.Â
He wouldnât do that.Â
You take a deep breath and bite the bullet, pulling your tank top over your head quickly and Miguel freezes, causing an abundance of discomfort on your end. You thought this was something heâd want, something heâd like, now that youâve exposed yourself though, heâs silent.Â
You try to stand strong, but your hands are twitching at your sides to cover your stomach. You pray to whatever god there may be that you somehow gain the ability to read his mind, to see his thoughts, to force him to say something⌠anything.Â
His cock pulsing. Heâs never seen you completely shirtless, despite being together for over a year. He never wanted to push you, too scared that heâd push you away. Heâs seen you with no top but only with a towel over your stomach, or pants pulled over your stomach as you change. But now? Her full glory was on display, thereâs a little curve underneath, separating your tummy from your pussy and heâs in love.Â
His eyes are zeroed in on your naked stomach and your hands come up to cover it, legs pulling inward as you fold into yourself. He canât have that. âDonâtâÂ
His voice is sharp and dark, a strong command but you donât listen, covering your stomach fully. âIt was a bad idea. Iâm so uncomfortable, Mig. Can-â You let out a heartbreaking sigh. âCan you just pass me my top?â You threw it down just out of reach and your hands are occupied covering your stomach. Embarrassment is coursing through every vein.
How are we gonna move on from this? I fucking killed the shit out of the mood. Fuck. God, I hate this.Â
âNo.â Heâs moving back toward you, climbing up your body again, ignoring the obvious confusion youâre facing. You curl in even more which just upsets him. He grabs your leg and pulls, forcing you out of your ball before pinning it under his own. âUh-â You let out a noise of surprise but Miguel pays it no mind as he reaches for your arms. He takes both of your wrists in his hand and pins them above your head, holding them there as he admires your tummy.Â
Your heart is racing but you donât struggle. Miguel is looking at you like to most amazing piece of art and youâd do anything- anything- for him to keep going. You feel yourself leaking between your legs as he just stares. His breathing is slow and shaky and his brows keep furrowing, like heâs having an internal battle with himself. He takes another breath and exhales through his mouth, letting his breath fan over your face before releasing your wrists and leg.Â
Heâs waiting for you to pull your hands back down, cover one of your most beautiful features⌠but you donât.Â
Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. âCan you please, please, fuck me now?â His face twitches before he smiles, taking a deep breath as he pulls away. He kisses your chest as he slowly rises, his hand already on his cock, pumping himself gently as he aligns himself with your entrance. Youâre gripping the cushions with all your strength as he works himself in.Â
Heâs worried. You feel insane around him, the softest thing heâs ever felt, extra wet and open for him to breed you. His mind keeps wandering back to cumming inside you, even though you said no. Heâs walking the line of some dangerous thoughts.Â
I am stronger than herâŚ
He shakes the thought out of his head and focuses on you. The way youâre moaning his name like itâs the only thing you know, your hips are growing frantic as the grind up against him. âMiggy-â
âAmor.â He smiles at the moan that rips from your chest as you bury yourself in his neck. His hips speed up at the sounds of your moans right next to his ear, your breath tickling the shell of it. Â
ââM gonna- â Miguel cuts you off with a growl and his brows furrow. He doubles down on his thrusts, bringing his hands to the small of your back, gripping you hard and fucking you into his cock.Â
Itâs going to take a serious amount of focus to keep his orgasm at bay until youâre done. âGo- Fuck. No, just wait, baby.â You let out a confused noise at his command. Heâs never asked you to hold it before.Â
âFuck! Mi- I donât know how!â Your sentence turns into a sob as he watches your body tense up, pulling all your muscles tight and gripping the roots of his hair. âHaah- Miguel. Baby, I ca- anât. Please let-âÂ
A moan stops your sentence as Miguel presses onto your womb, forcing his cock against your walls, stretching you even more. You feel so full you donât know whatâs happening. Your eyes are wide as you stare at his hand, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. Theyâre frantic, desperate and wild when they meet yours.Â
His panting aggressively, intermittently pausing so he can try and regulate his breathing. Youâre staring into his eyes, shocked at his reaction and a smirk pushes its way into your face before you moan at him again. He pulls his hand away from your womb like it burned him and pulls out, gripping the base of his cock so hard it must hurt.Â
You were so close, teetering on the edge, just hearing Miguel utter your name couldâve tipped you over⌠but he pulled out instead. âMiguel!!! Why? I- Iâve been good, havenât I?âÂ
Your desperate pleads are worsening his situation. He ignores your words and starts rubbing your clit, his fingers moving over the little bud lightning fast. âIâm not punishing you, bebĂŠ bonitaâ
You whine at the love name and grip his arm, trying to pull him closer to you. âNo puedo correrme dentro de ti and Iâm⌠Iâm too close right now, cariĂąo.â
Youâre trying to push his hand away now, shaking your head and whining. âSâokayâ
Your yanking at his arm, trying to get him back over you. âCum inside, Miggy.âÂ
His eyes widen and he doesnât move. He honestly thinks heâs hearing things at this point, fantasizing without realizing but youâre look at him all shy and expectant. So you actually said something⌠âW-â He takes a deep breath. âWhat?â
You whine at him and avert your eyes as your legs slowly spread for him. âYou- You wanted to, right? I want itâŚâ You whine at the thought. âI need it, Miggy.â
His vision blurs as he reaches out for you, lining himself up as quickly as he can. He can already feel his balls pulsing, tensing and preparing a load for you, for your pussy, your womb.Â
Itâs worse than the first time he ever had sex with you. Every nerve is alight, he can feel every little detail in your pretty, perfect pussy. On top of that, youâre moaning like heâs never heard before, louder, more high pitched, more desperate than earlier and theyâd already shocked him then. He canât.Â
âMm- Not- fuck. Iâm not gonna last. Not even a min- shit. Oh my god, cariĂąo. Not even gonna last a minute. Fuck me, niĂąa bonita.â Your almost screaming his name at his words, his languid pace and the way heâs literally shaking for you. âGonna- shi-it.â His words sound like broken sobs as his tip gently abuses your cervix.Â
Youâve pulsing around him, trying everything you can to wait for him so you can milk him while he pumps you full. âIâm gonna cum. Fuck. Iâm gonna cum in- in you, baby. Voy a follarte un bebĂŠ, amor. Te dejarĂŠ embarazada, te mantendrĂŠ llena de mĂ en todo momento. Mierda. Te verĂĄs tan hermosa, manteniendo a nuestro bebĂŠ protegido en tu grueso Ăştero. Oh, joder"
(âI'm going to fuck a baby into you, love. I will get you pregnant, I'll keep you full of me at all times. Shit. You will look so beautiful, keeping our baby protected in your thick womb. Oh fuck.â)
Your eyes roll back and the coil in your stomach snaps as Miguel rambles, hips thrusting into yours gently, his gaze on the back of his skull. Youâre fucking yourself on him as best you can in this position. Itâs awkward and over-exerting but completely worth it when you hear a whine of your name and Miguelâs cock starts throbbing inside you.Â
Twitching once, twice, before hardening even more and pouring a torrent of cum into your waiting pussy. Heâs the loudest youâve ever heard. Moaning out your name on repeat, thanking you for letting him cum in you with a lot of other Spanish sentences in between.Â
His hand presses to your womb as he winds down but his cock twitches out another load as he pushes down, fucking into you slowly again. âTe amo tanto, mi querida. No puedo imaginar la vida sin ti. Una vida en la que no tendrĂĄs mis hijos, en la que no estemos casadosâŚâ His entire body shudders as he finally stops pouring into you.Â
(âI love you so much, my dear. I canât imagine life without you. A life where you donât bear my children, in which we arenât marriedâŚâ)
He leans down and kisses you slowly, eyes hooded but still focused on you. Your eyes are teary and trying to shut, exhausted from the entire night. Miguel keeps pressing kisses all over you as you drift off.Â
âUn mundo sin ti es uno en el que no podrĂa vivir, amor.â
(âA world without you is one I couldn't live in, love.â)
Thank you so mcuh for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!
#miguel ohara x reader#miguel smut#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#miguel oâhara smut#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#miggy oâhara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara spider man#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara#2099#sm 2099#miguel 2099#marvel 2099#miguel o hara#astv miguel#miguel atsv#miguel x you#atsv#luvrxsmut#luvrxfics
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Bucky is high-key appalled by the lack of chivalry and politeness exhibited by the men of the twenty first century. Can't fathom that men ignore women on the train or bus who need seats, that doors aren't being opened for women, seats aren't being pulled out, space isn't made for women as they pass packs of men on the sidewalk. There are many things in this new age world that Bucky can't wrap his head around, but the disregard for women is something he'll never understand, so he opens doors for ladies if they are both going in the same building, vacates seats when there is a woman around in need of space. He can't help it, having grown up in a world entirely different to the one he is now. It is second nature and comes as quickly as breathing, but it stuns you a little the first time you get treated like that. You swoon at the fact Bucky holds the door for you, lets you pass before him, makes sure you walk on the safer side of the pavement, holds your hand when you cross the road, makes sure you get the food and drinks first, offers to drive and pay for date nights, the list is endless. Still, for once in your adult dating life, you don't question the sincerity of his words as they are backed up by actions.
"Did something happen to men while I was gone?" Bucky's confused voice floats down the hall of your apartment as he strides in, kicking his shoes off and placing them neatly on the rack by the bathroom door.
"What do you mean?" You look up from your spot on the couch, laptop sitting on your raised legs. "Like, did they go extinct and come back?"
Bucky reaches the living room and shucks off his jacket and gloves to hang over the chair before coming to the couch and plopping beside you. A soft kiss is pressed to your cheek, stubble grazing your skin as he mumbles a greeting before settling into the plush sofa.
"I mean, did they lose all manners?" he shakes his head in disbelief, hands splaying out in frustrated emphasis. "Do men not open doors for women? Or move out of the way for them on the side walk?"
You close the laptop and stow it away on the small shelf of the coffee table, no longer focusing on the information packets Tony had sent you early this morning.
"What happened?" You ask, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, enjoying how he melts into your touch.
"I just watched a bucnh'a men in suits practically push a woman out of the way to get through the door." he sighs, clearly exasperated at the lack of respect for other humans. "And then they didn't even hold the door for her! They just let it swing closed. How do they act on dates? I doubt they pay."
You hum, letting his rant continue.
"And I was on the line."
"Online." you correct gently, spiking his hair up with your fingers, the shorter strands finally obeying you.
"I was online," he rectifies. "and I saw this video of a woman talking about a man getting angry that she wasn't gonna go home with him after the first date."
"Please tell me that never happened to you." His attention shifts to you now, genuine distress simmering in his blue eyes, and when you don't answer, he becomes distraught.
"Doll, no," Bucky shakes his head as if you confessed to the murder of his beloved stuffed animal. "Come on, you gotta be joking."
"It was years ago! I was young and stupid and didn't know my worth." You shrug, obviously not as upset as your counterpart. âI've learnt my lesson. I know I am worth at least two dinners now." The joke falls flat as Bucky stares, not amused.
"It's a joke, Buck."
"I know, but I don't like it." He grumbles, folding his arms across his chest like a child. "Don't like that you were treated like that."
"Well, good thing I've got you now, huh?" you abandon his hair, stroking the back of your fingers over his stubbly cheek.
Bucky pouts. "Still don't like it. You deserved better."
You kiss his cheek, feeling his cheeks round as he smiles. "You're too good to me, Mr. Barnes." another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Even if we did sleep together on the first date."
"Hey! That wasn't the same. We knew each other before that." Bucky protests as you stand from the couch, walking to the kitchen to start on dinner. "At least I paid!"
#http shield ⥠â§âË â
๨ৠâ§â .á#âŽâË bucky barnes#draft dump#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x curvy!reader#bucky fanfic
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Hope in a Bottle
âââââââ ¡ ¡
Pairing: AU!Silco x Reader
â ¡ ¡ SUMMARY: You had died many years ago, or at least that was true in Silco's world. He had learned to live without you but when graced with the opportunity to see you once again- he can't help but indulge.
â ¡ ¡ TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, ANGST (but no seriously there are no happily ever afters), some fluff/comforting moments, suggestive themes.
â ¡ ¡ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,668
â ¡ ¡ A/N: I cried like at least four times when writing this, this show HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD.
âââââââ ¡ ¡
Silco often thought about you in passing moments. These moments he remembered sharing with you amongst your friends and in the comfort of your arms used to be coated in blue that he would drown and surround himself in; but as your presence forever lingered in his mind blue turned to pink and rose-tinted glasses glossed over every moment- every memory with a certain degree of fondness that he would catch himself smiling even when no one was in the room.
You would always manage to light up the room, tell him a joke when he needed it most, told him off and raised him up. He put so much of himself into you into your presence that when you left... it was like he had to redefine who he was but forever remained unsuccessful.
Silco learned to live without you physically but that did not mean that your jacket was still not waiting for your return on the back of his couch or your glass still half-filled by the bedside. Your chair at the bar was always kept at the back, awaiting your return as you both shared kisses in the storage room. He would always remember how the stained glasses reflected in your eyes, the colour breaking across your skin in a forever radiant presence just like you.
Vander would catch Silco in these moments when wiping down the bar top or taking a walk down by the Zaun bay, overlooking the artificial lights and hints of sunlight being cast upon the black waters. Watching as the mans hand opened and tensed before falling back down to his side.
"You doing alright there. brother?" Vander asked in a soft tone as they both crossed over to topside for the day. Silco looked up, a strand of his hair falling from his salt and pepper hair- blowing with the wind. "We are always alright in the hope to be better, and when we get better we hope for it to stay only to be alright once again; stuck in the cycle of it all I find myself on the better side today."
Vander hums along to Silco's words as they stop at the various market stalls to see their offerings a few new bottles for the bar from another region across the sea and a bag of sweets for the kids in the area. The men are suddenly greeted with another body stepping in between the two and falling inline with their pace.
"And how are we doin'?" Powder asks with a wide smile, trying to squeeze her arms together to encompass both of their sides before turning around to walk backwards and hold conversation.
Silco winces as Power almost misses lamp post after lamp post by mere millimetres. "We are fine, just about to make our way back home actually. Anywhere your headed, young lady?" Silco teases, his voice sharing sincerity in every syllable.
Powder rolls her eyes before turning back around, head tilting over her shoulder before she disappears back amongst the crowd, "Going to see this new invention Echo has been telling me about!" Vander shakes his head with a loving stare where Powder had just stood.
"She's going to change the world one day, you know?" Vander says to the wind, hoping that it catches her ears but it only does Silcos.
"I'm afraid she already has for she is your own world," Silco comments, placing a hand on his friends shoulder before powering forwards. "I hate it when your always right," Vander teases before taking two long strides to catch back up.
"Well I perfected it only from the best." Both mens minds go directly back to you, smiling and twirling in the bar to a new record you had found on the topside. Somehow you had already known all the lyrics after this being your supposed first time listening to the piece.
"They always knew, huh," Vander says, looking down to catch Silco small smile. "Yes, but not everything I wanted them to..."
âââââââ ¡ ¡
When back in Zaun and at The Last Drop, bar-goers had already flooded the decorated space for tomorrow night it would be the inventions fair, a bar local already chosen to set the mood for the night and a few university members stationed with scholarships in mind.
Both Vander and Silco were excited to witness the extraordinary kids they knew have the opportunity to show their talents to others and hopefully the collective dream of them changing the world would come true but fate always had to make its presence known in the doorway.
Blue sparkled out of the corner of Silco's eye as he leaned against the bar top waiting to continue his conversation with Vander. A half eaten apple sat beside his notebook that he was picking away at while conducting the accounting for the month. His back burned with his age from being hunched over for so long as he stood up to stretch.
Laughs echoed throughout the bar, feet dancing against the wooden plank floors, drinks clashing and spilling against the tables as another gets thrown out the side door. Powder had left a few moments ago with Echo, a certain mischievous look in her eye that Silco did not find unusual at the time would only shock his system now when he caught from reflection in the glass of his amber filled cup.
Your name graced his lips, remembering the feel, imaging your warmth against his skin and to feel it, to see it. He thought to be surreal, to be going senile as he looked to Vander for support and only found him smiling with a wink before turning back around to serve another customer.
Your skin was a thousand colours coming to life in his eyes, his hand drifting from the back of your fingertips, up your arm to your shoulder, neck upon which you shiver and rest your forehead upon his own. "How I've missed you," words that he only hoped to hear, have only read to himself in comfort written by his own hand- a fantasy turned reality now spoken to truth between your very own lips that Silco had to claim.
You melted into his touch, decades without the familiarity- him haunting your body with memory of his touch now appearing as goosebumps in recognition. You smile against his lips, hand running up against the smooth fabric of his vest before lacing in the silver locks of his hair.
Out of breath, you both pant, hands still gripping one another tightly as if afraid the other would disappear once more. "I thought to have lost you, to be so alone for so long. Why is it now that you appear just when I was surviving once again off of scraps?" Silco asks into your ear, not wanting to break this moment between the two of you. Even when in a crowded bar, it is only the two of you present in this moment.
"I would ask myself the same questions when I came back alive thanks to the technology developed in my universe and by what force I have yet to know, I am forever thankful for returning me, my soul, back to you to rest finally," you speak through tears mixing with Silco's silent ones dripping down his cheekbones and falling against your clothes that stain the fabric dark.
"I should thank that force as well," Silco murmurs, lost in your eyes, brushing away your tears. "I think it best we have the rest of this conversation elsewhere," Silco grabs your hand before pulling you out of the bar. The cheers and claps becoming distant as he leads you back to his apartment.
He locks the door behind you both, watching as you gently let go of his hand and walk around his space. Your hand feels the leather of your jacket still sat in the same place where you left it, against the couch in a forgotten moment of need. You continue towards the kitchen, seeing the various crayon pictures of Violet and Powder attached to the fridge who Silco explained to you before walking towards the bedroom. Your glass still waiting for you beside an unopened bottle you remember gifting Silco for his birthday.
"Why did you never open it?" You ask, fingers tracing around the neck of the bottle coated in a layer of dust you blow from your fingertips. "You said not to open it without you there to try it, I kept to my promise in hope for an impossible day like today. It was a reminder of not to drain my hope as many other's do."
All you can do is nod before holding the bottle in between your hands, a sickness suddenly washes over you as you take in Silco's form leaning against the doorframe. His arms crossed, leg tucked over the other and the scar of his yellow eye glowing warmly- lighting up the room amongst the candles.
He expects you to open the bottle, you understand that in doing so means you are to stay but that is something you cannot do. Not when Echo and the Professor are building a time-machine, not when your world is about to erupt in ruins.
You want nothing more to indulge more than you already had into this word of perfection and wrongs written right but that would be a cruelty brought upon this world. You knew you shouldn't have gone up to him, kissed him, felt his skin upon you skin only to take it away like the hopes of everyone else who had died during this war.
But you were only human, your heart already shattered and in need of repair, of warmth and kindness but you would only be selfish just as much as those you were out to strike down. "I-I can't open the bottle Silco. I-" you start to sob, hands shaking before placing the bottle back upon the nightstand.
You bring your knees back up to your chest, breaths heavy as your head spins, blood starting to drip down your nose, the reflection of blue out of the corner of your eyes as you gripping the sheets, knuckles turning white as Silco runs over, falling to his knees as he begs to see your face.
"Please, whatever is the matter, darling?" Silco asks, the sweetness of his tone doing nothing but to further indulge your nausea as you spiral. "I shouldn't have come to you, have done any of this!" You shout, trying to shove the man away but Silco only stands, wrapping his arms around your body as you do your best to kick and shove him away.
You look over his shoulder, watching as the sunsets through the window and sheer blinds. "Silco," you sob, fingers digging into the material of his vest once again in a panic rather than in reverence. "Silco, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that this was not forever, that this will only be another memory and perhaps the once that hurts the most knowing that I left rather than was forced to..."
"Then let me hurt, allow me to bleed, allow me to weep for I have endless time for that but only a finite time to be truly happy. So please, indulge me, drink it all and leave me once more with the knowledge that you are out there somewhere in another place, alive. Please, please," Silco begs turn into whispers as you press your tears into his neck before leaving a lingering kiss.
"Until the sunrise we shall be happy in the night," you speak softly in between kisses, your vision still clouded in tears.
"Until the sunrise," Silco restates before capturing your lips once more and sighing heavily. The moons bask ignites you both, lighting the liquid in your bodies burn as you take pleasure in one another.
You feel him, your hearts and souls connecting, rekindling in what is only to be heartbreak that makes you both press harder into one another. Leave marks across each others skin and kiss them delicately afterwards. It is in you both taking a bath afterwards until the cold waters have you both frozen still in realization as the sun rises and fills the room. Its warmth lost as you pick up your clothes and leave your jacket leaning against the couch once more.
You stare at the empty bottle at the bedside and watch as Silco picks it up and looks at you through it was a wavering smile. "Goodbye, my love and know that it was always you my soul yearns for and you who I define myself as."
"I really wish this didn't have to be the end, Silco...." you try your best not to sob, chocking on your words yet standing firm in your positions knowing that comforting one another would only make the hurt worse than it already was burning. "...in another life, I can see how easily we could have had it all- could have been happy."
"I wouldn't want any other memories than the ones we share," you nod in agreement, your body shakes, skin burns in want as you reach for the cold handle that sends shivers down your spine.
"Goodbye, Silco, I love you, forevermore."
"And I you."
âââââââ ¡ ¡
The walk to Jinx's place is a long and cold one, a thousand pairs of eyes stare at you with their condolences. You refuse to meet any of their stares, knowing that by just one look you would be running back into his arms for comfort.
Echo and Heimerdinger are already there and waiting for you, Echo extends his hand and lifts you up onto the platform. A swirl of arcane magic mixed fits the seeds of that all-too-familiar blue have you floating with a scream as the Professor sacrifices himself with one last salute to you both. Echo holds you, the loss of today holding heavy yet his touch is not what you yearn for as you cry into his jacket, gripping the collar of it as colours swirl around your vision and you are brought back to the battlefield once more.
Bullets wiz past your had, another graces your cheek as your blood falls like tears against the broken pavement. The roar of a monster rumbles the ground as you sprint towards the closing barriers, throwing yourself over them and into a sea of dead blue enforcers.
Screams haunt your ears, echoing distantly through your memories and brought forth into reality as you step over cast aside limbs and guns. You watch as Vi ahed of you holds another as they take their final breaths, a machine gun makes you loose hearing in your left ear and next thing you knew, a burning sensation was coming from your right leg where a ghastly wound had planted itself.
Hoisting and forcing yourself to stand you carry forth with a limp and defend the entrance, holding cover and watching as the trojan horse gets rolled in through the barriers all you can feel is Silco's marks as you charge forwards with an unrelenting cry.
âââââââ ¡ ¡
Silco fell back into the bed and stayed in that exact same numb position until Vander came to find him, "You know, there was a part of me debating weather or not to distract you from 'em and theres a part of me now that regrets not doin' so."
"It wouldn't have mattered anyways, the hurt of not seeing them when I got the chance to would have hurt just as much if not more. But I appreciate the sentiment, brother," Silco responds, rolling the cork of the bottle in between his thumb and finger.
"Finally drank it, huh?" Vander comments, picking up the bottle from the stand as gently as possible between his large hands. All Silco can do is smile, a singular tear dripping down his cheek that gets cast away, "yeah, something like that."
âââââââ ¡ ¡
â ¡ ¡ A/N: so... what did y'all think?
#fanfic#fanfiction#simp-ly#x reader#simp-ly-writes#arcane silco#silco x reader#silco#au!silco x reader#older!silco x reader#arcane x reader#arcane#arcane fanfic#arcane fanficiton#angst#hurt no comfort#heavy angst#suggestive themes
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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 2)
You try not to linger too much on the way they were acting. They seemed fine, really, they did, and you were just nervous, you knew that. It was just mindless anxiety that made you flinch quietly when they approached a little too much as they gave you a tour around their house.
They were being relatively quiet, their voices in a low volume as mostly John Price, the dragon, introduced each part of their house to you. You all walked with you on the middle, as John was walking in front of you and the other three behing you, Johnny a little bit more to the side.
You didn't really notice, not with how you were keeping your eyes mostly at the ground and at the dragon's back, but the three other hybrids had their eyes glued to your small form. Small little thing, that walked so slow. Since John was in front of the group, he had a bit more space to walk, even if he was going slower for you. But for the three who were slightly behind? They were almost just shuffling along so they could keep following you and still keep a respectful distance.
Johnny was clearly getting antsy as they walked. He's a werewolf, that, like dragons, are a very... touchy species. Especially with their pups. And you're just so slow, so cute, so small... he really wanted to touch you. To pick you up and carry you in strong and big arms that would certainly keep a small, soft thing like you warm. And now, he can't avoid paying attention on the fact that you seen to be wearing just a light jacket, and it's cold outside. Well, not to him, but he knows humans, he knows they get cold so easily......
"Control yourself, Tav." Before he could even process, sharp talons were pulling him back as Gaz hissed quietly in his ear, holding his arm firmly. "She's not used to us yet." "I knae, i knae..." Johhny breathed in quietly, trying to compose himself. "Just... such a wee thing..."
You look back for a second, just to see the two big hybrids whispering to eachother. Before you could even try and pay attention to what they were saying, John called your attention back to him. "And this, sweetheart, is your new room."
You nod quietly at that, still a little unsure. John smiled gently at your hesitance, opening a white door at the end of the hallway they were walking on. That makes you frown a little. What kind of kid's room is the last one on the hallway? That's usually the parents room, from your experience.
Still, you couldn't avoid widening your eyes a bit at the sight of the bedroom. Their house was big, that much was obvious (they must have had a hundred children or something), so the room being big wasn't exactly a... surprise. Still, were all rooms in hybrid houses like this?
The room was spacious, big like the rest of the house, but also... very heavily padded. The bedroom floor had soft thick carpet while the rest of the house had wooden floors. At the middle of the room, it had some kind of weird blankets and pillows nest, caved inside the floor. Still, it had a single lonely bed to the side, a cute little bed that looked like it couldn't fit any of the hybrid men.
The bed was pilled with a lot of blankets and pillows, just like the nest. Very fluffy looking, and even had a small metal fance at the side that wasn't against the wall, padded, of course, that made you think that it could have only come from their kids' toddler years or something.
There were a lot of toys tucked inside toy boxes to the side, that were by a giant closet. Some of the plushies were around the room, inside the weird nest at the middle and close to the bed, all soft plush animals. The only two windows had metal bars on them, and were covered by long curtains.
The colors of the room were heavily leaning into pastel tones, like pastel pink, pastel purple, pastel yellow, pastel blue, pastel green and white. It all looked so... childish, but... confortable too.... It looked confortable, safe, clean. It was very clean. This room looked like something out of a movie or something.
So that's why all you could do was stay still as you stared inside the room, a bit stunned. It was just by John's gentle nudge, one that still made you flinch a bit as you felt a heavy, scaily tail touch your back, that you finally stepped inside.
"This was some of our children's room when they were younger." John explained gently, leaning against the door as the others also tried (and failed) to look smooth as they leaned forward by Price's body to watch you inside. "I hope it's okay?"
"A-ah, it's... good..." You mumble quietly, still looking around the room.
Kyle's wings ruffled at your small, meak voice, eyes foucused on you like a damn eagle. Simon leaned a bit more inside the room, silent, a big scary presence. John cleaned his throat a little as he noticed how shy that was making you.
"We're gonna leave you to unpack. If you need us for anything, you just need to call, okay, sweetheart?"
You nodded quietly, still standing in the middle of the room with uncertainty. John smiled gently once again before pushing the others back with his tail and closing the door. You pretended not to hear rushed whispers as soon as the door was closed, foucusing more on putting your backpack under the bed safely.
The bed that... looked so inviting, and so fluff, and it smelled so clean too...
And in a second, you were out like a light, curled in a small little ball on the bed, sleeping over the confortable covers.
#poly141#cod#foster child!reader#teen!reader#kid!reader#simon ghost riley#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#wraith!ghost#werewolf!soap#dragon!price#harpy!gaz#monster 141 au#monster au#cod mw2#tf 141#dad!price#dad!ghost#dad!soap#dad!gaz#hybrid 141#hybrid cod
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Title: The Boy Next Door
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Rating: E
Tags: 18+ explicit smut, childhood friends, neighbors, pining, confessions, friends to lovers, first crush
Summary: Growing up, you always had a crush on the boy next door. Now, twelve years later, you might unexpectedly get your chance with Bucky Barnes.
[ao3 link]
Your parents just handed over the house you grew up in. It was that easy, now it's yours.
They want to be those typical, retired parents and move to Florida â boring! And since you've been renting a studio in Brooklyn for the past four years, you jumped at the chance to have a three-bedroom house in upstate New York. It's already paid off and your parents are wealthy enough, they don't need the earnings for their Florida condo.
You've only been back to your childhood home for holidays in the past few years. Everything has stayed the same, your parents were actually one of the few who didn't turn their daughter's bedroom into a home office or gym. They left the pink wallpaper, the twin bed with the floral comforter, and the tower of stuffed animals on the dresser.
When you arrive with your two suitcases and some extra cash in your pocket since you sold all your studio furniture, you stare up at the house. You smile from the warm memories before you glance over at the house next door.
An older boy named James lived there, but he always went by Bucky. Bucky Barnes is the name that lived in your diary for most of your adolescence. He was four years older than you which meant you had an embarrassing crush on him since you were twelve. He was nice, he always teased you when you saw each other, he even acknowledged your existence for the one year you were both in high school together â you as a freshman and him a senior.
That did wonders for your reputation, you became pretty popular even after he graduated. Still, you would've thrown away all the friends and parties for just one night with Bucky if that was a possibility.
You're not sure you ever got over your crush, more just accepted that it was never going to happen and moved on with your life. It was easy once he went away from college and three years later so did you. You never ran into him again even when you were visiting home for the holidays. It seems the Barnes' residence spent their holidays elsewhere as the house was always dark on those occasions.
Currently, it's two in the afternoon and the sun is beating down so strongly, you start to take off your jean jacket. You're sliding your arms out of the sleeves when a familiar voice makes you jump.
"Hey, y/n."
Your arms flap uncoordinatedly, still half in the jacket, pausing in an awkward position as you turn to see your childhood crush standing a few feet away from you. Bucky Barnes, looking sexier than ever.
"Oh, hi,â you splutter.
This man still has the ability to make you blush like a schoolgirl. You do some quick mental math and realize if youâre 27 now then he must be 31. And why do men age so spectacularly? He has somehow managed to become even more attractive in the last twelve years.
"What're you doing here?" you ask as you finally free your arms from the jacket.
"I'm house-sitting," Bucky explains. "What're you doing here?"
"Um, well, the house is sorta mine now."
"Parents gave you the whole thing?"
"Yep, the whole thing," you nod.
"Wow, congrats on the house," Bucky says.
"Thank you," you reply and you both stare at each other in a beat of silence.
"Um actually, since you're around, do you think I could pay you for some manual labor?" you ask suddenly.
"What kind?" Bucky grins fast. It truly takes your breath away, jesus this man should not be allowed to smile.
"I have a dumpster coming tomorrow morning," you explain. "I'm getting rid of my childhood bedroom furniture."
"Yeah, I can help."
"That would be so great, I'll pay youâ"
"Don't sweat it. Just treat me to dinner sometime," Bucky shrugs, and your stomach drops. What in the world does he mean by that... like a dinner date?
"Oh, dinner... yeah, okay. You got it," you play it cool and awkward.
He smiles at you, amused.
"Anyway..." you mumble unsure how to retract yourself from this conversation, unsure if you even want to.
"You really grew up, huh?" Bucky says, and he scans you up and down.
"I guess so," you shrug, your face burning. "You too."
"Yeah, guess we haven't seen each other in..."
He appears to be trying to calculate the years but you unabashedly jump in with an exact answer.
"Twelve years."
"Has it been that long?" he asks.
"I... think so," you feign uncertainty.
"So, what time do you need me tomorrow?" he asks.
"Oh, anytime that works for you."
"How about noon?"
"Perfect."
Asking for Bucky's help might've been the worst idea you ever had. When he comes over, he's wearing a cotton-white t-shirt and jeans. His hair is damp and slicked back from a shower. He looks so comfy, it makes you imagine waking up with him. You yearn to know how warm his skin feels fresh from the steam.
You ignore your inappropriate desires and lead him up the stairs to your old room. It's then you realize how many years of your life you desperately wanted to show him your room. Have your crush see these walls, sit on your bed, and make out with you next to your teddy bear.
It's embarrassing but probably every teenage girl wanted the same thing. Unfortunately, the thought slips out of you with a laugh.
"I always wanted to show you my room."
You freeze in the doorway, realizing what you've just said out loud.
"What?" Bucky asks from behind you.
"When I was younger, I meant. I didn't mean... I don't know why I said that, actually."
You turn around and see the look of amused confusion on his face, a small smirk inching from the corner of his mouth.
"Oh, fuck it. I had a major crush on you," you confess.
Bucky's eyebrows lift high.
"Yeah?"
"You couldn't tell?"
"I thought you were just awkward with everyone," he shrugs.
"Great, so you thought I was a total loser," you sigh.
"No..." he says quickly but takes a second to elaborate. "If it helps, I didn't think about you that way 'cause you were too young for me."
"Of course, you never thought about me," you brush off, trying not to let your younger self die too much inside.
You step into the room to create any amount of space from this conversation. But you instantly remember the countless hours you spent in here thinking about him. Staring out the window at his family's house hoping the catch a glimpse of him.
"Hey," Bucky says. His hand gently touches your shoulder.
You turn around to meet his eyes which oddly look darker, more intense now.
"I could see myself thinking about you now," he admits low.
You blink, your mouth is suddenly too dry to respond.
"I mean... look at you," he says so fondly that your heart could burst. And he looks you over again, his pupils dilating even more.
Is this really happening, you think.
His right hand hasn't moved from your shoulder. Boldly, you place a hand on his left forearm and you're right, his skin is still warm from the shower.
You breathe in sharply because just touching him, just standing this close for this long is something you were never lucky enough to get back then.
His eyes are still locked with yours and it's honestly so intense you can't look away even as you see him dip his head, lowering slowly to your lips. He waits, an inch from them, to see if this is okay. Of course, it's fucking okay.
You surge the last inch forward and kiss him harder than you anticipate. He stumbles a step back, in consequence grabbing onto your waist, and pushing forward. He walks you back toward the twin bed up against the wall.
When you fall back onto the mattress, it creaks from old age, but you couldn't care less. Because Bucky Barnes, your childhood crush, the extremely attractive neighbor next door, is crawling over you. And it's glorious, it's enough to make you arch up into him and moan.
He lets out a breathy laugh and then kisses you, his knee slides between your legs and presses down. You moan even louder. You're completely shameless, you are, but this is Bucky Barnes. You're not staying quiet for a second of this.
His mouth moves to your ear and he's kissing down your neck while his fingers slip under your shirt, rolling it up.
Your shirt is off and then you're pants are coming off too. You want to get him out of his clothes but his mouth finds the front of your panties and he's teasing you, mouthing at the fabric.
"Please," you whine.
He grins against your underwear and then slides the thin fabric off and sucks his thumb into his mouth.
When he touches you, he's not gentle. He goes right in and rubs your clit roughly but you're so turned on that it's like a jolt of electricity to your body, you leap up from the mattress.
He licks two fingers then and sinks them right inside you. Oh god, it's so easy because you're so wet.
"Fuck," he mutters, realizing this. He stares down, watching his fingers work inside you. Your skin boils endlessly.
He doesn't need to spend much time working you open and he must know that because it's not long before he pulls his fingers out and hurriedly works the button of his jeans open. He pulls open the fly and pushes them down when you sit up to get his shirt. You're not letting this happen without seeing that gorgeous chest again.
You remember so many summer nights when you got a glimpse of Bucky shirtless. Running through the sprinkles or coming home from a neighbor's pool. He was stunning, even back then, but now... oh lord, now he's filled out. He has a firm, thick chest and a set of perfect abs lining his torso. Because of course, he has a six-pack, you always fall for the most unattainable guys.
But somehow you have him, right here, in your very old, tiny twin bed.
You want to lick a long strip from his navel up to his neck but he doesn't give you the chance. Once his clothes are off, he pulls your legs over his waist and pushes inside you so fast you barely have time to prepare. You cling to him with your whole body, legs and arms. And you moan low.
"Oh god, you're so tight," he husks.
You tighten your hold around his neck, he looks up at you and kisses you. You're basically on his lap so start rolling your hips slowly, getting used to how big he feels inside you.
You push him back until he lies down. And then you're riding him. You're riding Bucky Barnes in your childhood bedroom on top of your pink comforter with yellow flowers.
This is your teenage dream come true and that realization plows through you, making you ride him even harder, snapping your hips as fast as you can over his cock. And it's enough that you get a moan out of him, a low gravelly groan that you immediately fawn over.
His fingertips dig into your skin as you keep riding him fast and hard. You know you're nearing the edge, your head falls with a whimper, you grip his shoulders tighter.
"Fuck, y/n. Come for me," he breathes.
And you lose all control the moment you hear that. Fuck, you come so hard.
"Oohhh, fuckkk," you wail and stop moving to let the orgasm crash through you.
Then his hands lift your ass, just enough so he can raise his hips and start fucking into you.
"Jesus," you hiss and scramble to hold onto him again.
He keeps fucking you, gaining speed and making your eyes roll back from the fact that your orgasm can't wane with his cock repeatedly slamming right into you.
He groans, squeezing the flesh on your ass now and you can tell he's close.
He curses under his breath and then he's coming and still fucking you so hard your vision's blurring.
When he finally slows down, he blows out a long breath. He releases his grip on your ass and closes his eyes, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm.
You can feel his cock twitch one last time inside you. You carefully try to pull off him. He winces as you do, still sensitive. You lean down and kiss him, you can't help yourself.
He smiles when you break to let him catch his breath. Okay, he's totally allowed to smile when he's naked in your bed, you decide. You admire the sight for as long as he lets you.
"Well, fuck," he laughs.
"Yeah, fuck," you agree, smiling. "Not sure if I should thank you for your help yet."
He laughs. "I haven't done anything yet."
"Oh, you've done plenty," you tease and plant another kiss on his lips.
He smirks at you and runs his hands up your sides, gentle and light.
"I'll help you move the furniture," he says. "Just give me a few minutes."
"Yeah, I need a few too," you say. "At least this bed is going out with a bang."
And you both laugh. Then you look at him and already remember what he said to you yesterday. You remember almost every word he's ever uttered to you.
"So, about that dinner," you say.
He smiles wide and just kisses you.
#bucky x reader#bucky x reader smut#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you
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More Than Friends
summary: just two oblivious softies
warnings: none!
a/n: inspired by this request !
word count: 1.6k
-
Youâve known Leah for years. Youâve been through it allâschool, youth academy, the awkward phase of realising youâre both gay and your parentsâ tragic attempts to understand what that meant.
If anyone asks, Leahâs your best friend. You hang out all the time, have a weekly standing breakfast date at some overpriced organic cafĂŠ because Leah insists their smoothies are life-changing, and, on more than one occasion, youâve been caught having full-on wrestling matches on the living room rug when someone makes the mistake of putting on a reality show with a competitive element.
The Chase, weâre looking at you!
But youâre just friends. Sure, Leah looks at you like youâve sewn every star in the sky just for her, and yeah, youâve caught yourself wondering what it would be like if she ever kissed you, but youâre both practical, reasonable adults. If there was something more between you, youâd know by now. Youâre practically soulmates, but the platonic kind. The kind that talk about who theyâd date if they ever started dating again. Which youâre not, because youâre both âtoo busyâ with your own lives and ânot really looking for anyone right now.â
Itâs funny, though. Everyone else seems to have a different opinion. Your mutual friends, like that time Laura came over for a movie night and blatantly refused to sit between you and Leah on the sofa, claiming, âIâm not going to be the third wheel in whatever the hell is going on here.â Or when Beth invited you both to her birthday party but refused to put you on the seating chart together because, as she said, âItâs not a double date, guysâ
To which you responded with a classic, âWho, us? Weâre just friends!â
You donât see what the big deal is. Leah texts you constantly, and sure, she sometimes insists on picking out your clothes before you go anywhere because âYou need to stop wearing those same jeans every time we go out.â You just think itâs because Leahâs a bit of a control freak, which youâve told her multiple times. Her rebuttal? âYou just have no tasteâ
No taste? Youâve got plenty of taste, actually. Leahâs always complimenting you, too, which really doesnât help her argument. Last week, when you wore that new jacket she made you buy, she practically wolf-whistled in the middle of the bar. âLooking good, babe,â sheâd said, and you rolled your eyes so hard you almost lost contact with reality.
âPlease, Williamson, contain yourself,â youâd muttered, but you couldnât hide the grin on your face.
And then thereâs the flirting. At least, what your friends call flirting.
To you, itâs just banter. Youâre naturally a bit cheeky, and Leah can give as good as she gets. Like the time you told her she looked particularly dashing in her new suit, and she leaned in close, eyes locked on yours, and whispered, âIf you think Iâm dashing now, wait until you see me without itâ
You sputtered something unintelligible, but it was fine because Leah just laughed and punched your arm, hard enough that you felt it for the next two hours. Flirting? Thatâs not flirting, thatâs just classic Leah.
Sure, sometimes the banter takes a turn that even you canât quite explain. Like when you two were at that menâs match, and during halftime, when they were playing that cheesy love song over the stadium speakers, Leah turned to you with a smirk and said, âThis is our songâ
âOur song?â You raised an eyebrow.
âYeah,â she said, leaning back in her seat, arms crossed like she just made a killer play, âYou know, if we were like, one of those couplesâ
You laughed, because of course thatâs funny, right? Leah, your best mate, whoâs currently watching you with this mischievous glint in her eye, almost like sheâs daring you to challenge her. âYouâre so silly,â you said, throwing a handful of popcorn at her. She just winked and said, âThatâs why you love meâ
Right. Thatâs why you love her. Like a friend. Like a really good friend who also looks great in every lighting, and who youâd fight a pack of wolves for if the situation ever arose. Youâve actually had that discussionâa hypothetical about how many wolves it would take before one of you chickened out. Leahâs confident she could take on at least five, maybe six if theyâre ânot like, super rabid or anythingâ
You told her sheâs delusional, and then she offered to demonstrate how sheâd do it. So there you were, in the middle of your kitchen, Leah making slow-motion karate chops and what she called âstrategicâ growling noises, while you struggled to keep a straight face and actually managed to look concerned when she said, âYou think I couldnât handle a wolf? Iâd rip its head off, and Iâd do it for youâ
You didnât tell her thatâs probably the most romantic thing anyoneâs ever said to you. Because itâs not romantic, itâs just Leah. And thatâs why you love her.
-
âStop saying that,â Katie groans one night when youâre all out for drinks and Leahâs leaning on you in that way she does when sheâs too tired to keep her head up. Itâs a good thing Leahâs more of a lightweight than you because the last thing you need is her realising sheâs practically snuggling into your side like an oversized cat.
âSaying what?â you ask, but you already know. You just want to make her spell it out.
âThat youâre just friends,â she says, exasperated, like sheâs said this a hundred times, which she probably has. âYou two act like youâre married, and you donât even acknowledge itâ
Leah makes a noncommittal noise, half-asleep against your shoulder. âWeâd make a cute couple, though, wouldnât we?â
âTotally,â Katie says, deadpan, staring at you with raised eyebrows like sheâs trying to telepathically scream at you to get a grip.
âWe would,â you agree, patting Leahâs head because thatâs what friends do. âBut weâre notâ
Katie just sighs, long and loud, and mutters something about denial.
Leahâs not helping. She keeps doing things that make your heart beat a little faster, like that time she grabbed your hand to cross the street and didnât let go until well after you were on the other side. Or when she showed up at your place at 2 in the morning with your favorite snacks because youâd mentioned in passing that you were having a bad day. Youâd called her an idiot for driving in the middle of the night just for you, and she just grinned and said, âWell, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didnât?â
âYouâre not my girlfriend,â you corrected her.
âRight,â she said, smirking like she knew something you didnât, âIâm notâ
If you werenât so oblivious, you might think sheâs trying to tell you something. But you are, so you donât. Instead, you two carry on as usualâbickering like an old married couple, sharing clothes, pretending that the lingering touches and inside jokes are all part of the package deal that comes with being best friends.
Because thatâs all it is. Just friends. Nothing more.
Nothing more until the day you catch Leah staring at you during one of your movie nights. Youâre halfway through a rom-com, the kind you both pretend to hate but secretly love, and you glance over to see her looking at you with an expression that youâve never quite seen before. Itâs soft, like sheâs memorising your face, and thereâs something in her eyes that makes your stomach flip.
âWhat?â you ask, suddenly self-conscious, because Leahâs never looked at you like that before.
âNothing,â she says, but she doesnât look away, and now your heartâs doing that stupid thing where it speeds up like youâve just run a mile.
And maybe, just maybe, you start to wonder if everyone else might be onto something.
#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#awfc#awfc x reader#engwnt#engwnt x reader#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso community
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Apologies if you've already done a post on this and I've just missed it, but can I ask for your take on the pyjamas worn by the cast of interview with vampire? I mean technically they're not a 100% necessary item, but just from a quick look there seems to be a lot of variety and they do change over the series
ok, iâm delighted by the specificity of this question, and it turns out that i have a VERY extensive answer.
thereâs a lot of sleepwear in IWTV due to the volume of bedroom/coffin scenes, and like any other outfit, these costumes are shaped by characterization and historical period. for instance claudia initially wears a long, modest, frilly nightgown - an old-fashioned style that plays into her girlish doll wardrobe purchased by louis and lestat. however her sleepwear matures over the years, including a trendy lace nightdress with bloomers in the 1920s (note the rectangular silhouette), and a pink padded jacket/pastel robe outfit in 1940s paris. she's following contemporary trends while charting a visible trajectory from child to adult.
when i wrote about the ThÊâtre des Vampires coven costumes, i noted that while their wardrobes share certain themes (ie. monochrome patterns and stripes), they each have specific personal tastes. that holds true for sleepwear. in the S2 finale we see the coven going to bed in their coffins, with Eglee in a gorgeous (maybe 1940s?) robe, Celeste in a striped pajama suit reflecting her 1920s-30s cabaret style, and Armand in a plain grey set of prison jammies because he's Suffering.
of course, the star pajama outfits all belong to Louis and Lestat, playing into their wealthy domestic aesthetic in S1. they receive multiple bedroom/coffin scenes, and Lestat's gold Leyendecker robe is obviously iconic.
touching on the historical side of things for a moment, pajamas (as in a matching buttondown top and loose pants) were popularized in the western world in the 19th century, as a repurposed south asian import - kind of like how banyans became trendy among the upper classes in 18th century england. this was when loungewear started to catch on as a concept, both in terms of dressing gowns and smoking jackets (which you could wear while socializing at home) and actual pajamas, which became unisex in the 1920s.
back in his human life in the 18th century, Lestat probably slept naked or wore a shapeless white nightgown (and possibly a nightcap, the sexiest of garments). but in New Orleans he adopts Louis' lifestyle, which involves a luxurious wardrobe of fashionable menswear. they're both into shopping and looking good, and i think they enjoy the ritual of getting dressed together each night.
(i also have a personal theory that Lestat may prefer to sleep fully clothed because his formative traumatic memory involves waking up naked in the dark. after all, he doesn't need pajamas to stay warm, and he doesn't have a recent habit of wearing them in his human life like Louis does. then again, maybe he just enjoys having a new outfit for every occasion!)
in Dubai, we only get one scene (iirc) with Louis and Armand in their pajamas, lying in bed wearing outfits that tie into the striped prison bar imagery of their bedroom. Armand is in warmer brown tones (like his Paris wardrobe) while Louis is in black and grey, like the rest of his Dubai outfits. i'd also note that this is the one place where they're genuine in private, meaning that they aren't putting on a show for Daniel. so this is potentially Armand's most relaxed costume in the present day.
the fact that they're wearing this kind of old-school sleepwear feels very appropriate for their whole deal, imo. in the 21st century, a lot of people just sleep in boxers and t-shirts or whatever. there's a slightly 20th century vibe to wearing a full set of buttondown pajamas, and Armand's outfit reads as more stylish (and possibly more wealthy) than your average millennial guy. which makes sense! they're old men.
i think we can assume that every single thing in their Dubai home is ferociously expensive, even when it doesn't need to be. considering the way Louis gives himself a modern makeover in the finale, i do wonder if he'll switch over to sleeping in t-shirts etc next season, or if he'll stick with variations of the same sleepwear he wore during his mortal life.
p.s. all of my iwtv design posts are available on this tag!
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#costume design#louis de pointe du lac#lestat#iwtv costume design#claudia#armand#iwtv meta#fortunatelyhercat#pajamas#asks
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Death Wish 7
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Bucky Barnes
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary:Â youâre desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Iâm happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging â¤ď¸
Photo Inspo
Thereâs no casket for the funeral. In this neighbourhood, thatâs expected. After the usual affair at the church, all are invited back to the house to pay their respects. You put the only picture you have of your father on the mantel; his wedding photo.Â
You dress in black but not for your father. Youâre mourning your sisters. Yourself. You dress in sombre slate for the uncertainty of it all. The colour is as dark as your guilt. You brought this fear upon them.Â
You didnât think about any of this. Barnes was entirely right in that regard. You didnât think any of it out. You werenât thinking at all. You were angry and tired. Now, itâs done and thereâs no going back to what was. You donât truly want to do that but you donât see a path ahead thatâs much better.Â
The people there are there because itâs expected. They are your fatherâs associates. Not family or friends. Funerals are part of their job description.Â
You walk numbly from room to room. You havenât cried. You havenât had a tear for your father in years. You try to make yourself look distraught but all you feel is empty.Â
Adrienne sways between bouts of bawling and soft sniffles. Kitty is stronger. She busies herself with the flowers and thanks every guest for attending. You accept their condolences but offer little in return.Â
Youâre all just pretending. Youâre acting like youâll miss him. You wonât. Even if your sisters are stunned and just as scared as you, you know they arenât sad. You all wished for this the very night before the envelope showed up. The night that you... killed him.Â
You sit in one of the mismatched chairs set out to accommodate the guests. The neighbours lent some of their own for the event. You are worn through. You havenât slept more than an hour at a time since you pulled that trigger. Â
You wonât tell yourself itâs regret, you were never more certain of anything in your life. No, you know exactly what it is. Dread. You have a debt to pay.Â
A figure appears in the open door. You see him through the archway of the front room. You stand as the new arrival stops just within the frame. A slow hush rolls over each guest. You look at Kitty as she glances over from the tray of cookies she spent all night making. She sees him too.Â
Your older sister goes to Adrienne and touches her shoulder. The youngest lifts her head and peers up as all attention aims at the arched doorway. Barnes fills it easily. He looks around. His suit seems blacker than usual.Â
It isnât a surprise. Heâs the boss. Heâs expected to see his men off. He nods at you, then your sisters. You go to them, standing with Kitty behind the sofa as she keeps her hand on Adrienne.Â
âPlease,â Barnes waves your younger sister from standing. âStay. Iâm sure itâs been a long day. Iâve only come to pay my respects.âÂ
He looks between you all then sidesteps the couch. He goes to the mantle and considers the wedding photo. He bows his head and reaches into his jacket. He sets a silver coin in front of the frame. Itâs an old tradition. Back in the 30s, people would leave pennies on the church altar to help pay for the burial.Â
He takes a deep breath and backs up. He turns to face the room. The people in it might be familiar but they are just as much strangers to you as someone on the street. They donât care about you, they donât even care about your father. Theyâre only there because thatâs what you do.Â
âThank you all for coming. You may go,â Barnes says.Â
Thereâs a moment of hesitation. Then, the men in suits and their wives, shuffle out obediently. Kitty grabs her hand and squeezes Adrienneâs shoulder. You watch the man they call the king.Â
When the room is empty, he goes to shut the front door. He returns and stands just inside the archway. He peers around again.Â
âYour father died as one of mine, that means youâre all under my protection. Consider the casket paid for,â he says.Â
âThank you, Mr. Barnes,â Kitty says. âThatâs very generous.âÂ
âI do it for all my men. I try not to lose too many,â he replies grimly. âI want you girls to tell me if you need anything. Got it?âÂ
Adrienne smothers a sob and nods frantically. Kitty hushes her and leans in to pet her head. You stand staunchly beside them, staring at him. His eyes cling to you.Â
âCatch your breath, doll,â Barnes says. âCalm her down.â He points at Kitty then you, âYour daddy got a gun safe?âÂ
You look at your sisters. You can see the glisten in Kittyâs eyes. Sheâs good at taking care of people. Youâre not. Adrienne needs her. You did this. You gotta deal with it.Â
âYeah, upstairs,â you answer as you step around the couch.Â
Barnes waits until youâre level with him before he turns. He lets you lead him out and follows you to the second floor. You take him to your fatherâs bedroom and push the door open. You canât go inside. You were never allowed. Not unless you wanted a taste of your fatherâs belt.Â
âI donât know the code,â you say.Â
âThatâs fine. Just needa know itâs here. Iâll have my men sort that out,â he rocks on his feet. âWe needa talk.âÂ
You nod.Â
âPrivately,â he glances over at the staircase.Â
You look at your fatherâs door and take a step back, ânot in there.âÂ
âRight, wherever you like,â he shows his palm indifferently.Â
You turn and guide him to your room. You pause before you let him inside. Youâre embarrassed as he enters. Your basket of laundry is overflowing and your makeup is still strewn all over from your erratic morning.Â
He paces around your bed and you shut the door. Heâs quiet. So are you. The tension is enough to make you squirm. You just want him to come out and say it.Â
âItâs me. I owe you. Not my sisters--âÂ
He raises his index finger. âYou do.â He stops and faces you. âAnd so did your daddy. He had his hands in my pockets. Deep. I coulda had him done for that. Coulda done it myself. Then I thought about it. I do that, I brand him a thief, and what does that mean for his girls?âÂ
You stare at him, chest aching as your heart pounds.Â
âThe house and what he actually brought in, it isnât close to even with what he took,â he crosses his arms, setting his feet flat. He lifts his chin. âI really shoulda done it myself but you wanna know why I didnât?âÂ
You canât talk. Heâs toying with you. You look down at the floor as if you might see your sisters through the boards.Â
âAh, eyes up here,â he comes closer until heâs right in front of you. Your eyes flick up and wet with tears. Finally. âI wanted to know if you would do what needs to be done. If when the hammer comes down, that you wonât crack.â His eyes flick up and down and he sucks his teeth. âYou didn't. You didnât fucking flinch either.âÂ
âHe deserved it,â you whisper, voice wobbling.Â
âI know he did, doll. And I know you deserved to do that,â he says. âAnd what I saw that night, I never seen that before. Thatâs a woman with steel in her gut. The kinda woman a man like me needs.âÂ
Your forehead creases in confusion. You donât know what he means.Â
âYou want me to... take over for my dad? I canât--âÂ
âHa, no, no,â he startles you as he brings his hand up. You flinch and he keeps his hand aloft. His eyes spark and he tilts his palm, gently caressing your cheek as if coaxing a street cat. âThis isnât womanâs work. No, doll, all I want, is you.âÂ
Your eyes round and you shiver against his touch. He smirks.Â
âAnd I know, just like in that warehouse, youâre going to do exactly what needs to be done,â his thumb strokes your cheekbone. âFor your sisters.âÂ
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#death wish#series#drabble#mob au#au#winter soldier#captain america#avengers#marvel#mcu
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benny & y/n : first encounter (part 1)
Your biggest wish had been to try out new things â you werenât the most outgoing or spontaneous person in Kathyâs group of friends. You didnât want to be the girl they created plans around. You wanted to be that somebody that Kathy, Martha and Felicia automatically included.
Martha loved to sing, so from time to time she sang at the bar - her usual group of guys cheering her on with a handful of beers surrounding them. Felicia had a weakness for inventing stories that never happened. Everyone knew she wasnât married to a guy from Ohio, yet she insisted she was and that he was just on a never-ending work trip. That story had been told for years.
You had moved to Chicago months ago and had yet to adjust to the new lifestyle. You worked at the local library from 9 to 5 and gave English lessons to students on the weekend. From time to time, you popped at the animal shelter and helped in any way you could. You loved giving back to the community as you find that the community has given so much to you.
It was a Wednesday morning when you met Kathy at the library you worked at â her hair done up and her eyeliner as sharp as ever.
âYou need help finding a specific book?â, you noticed the young woman looking around curiously. She turned around and smiled sweetly.
âNo, thank you. Just looking around.â, she responded and gave you another smile. Though before her gaze wandered elsewhere, she took a look at you and then glanced at your name tag.
âYou ainât from here, ainât you?â, you shook your head a little.
âJust moved here.â, you replied in a light tone. Kathy smiled at your words and extended her hand to you.
âIâm Kathy, pleased to meet ya.â, she introduced herself and you shook her hand, without hesitation. From that day on, she was your listening ear and you were hers.
You had never had a friend as great as her, which was why you felt the need to fit in the group Kathy was in. You loved singing, although in your own kitchen as you baked your favorite sweet â you werenât as confident or as bold as Martha was. You loved telling stories about your mama and your childhood pet â but even those stories, as innocent and lame as they were, were told in confidence. You did admire Feliciaâs ability to tell stories in front of groups of people, though.
Kathy was the one that tied Martha and Felicia to you. You didnât have much in common, but you gave your best to accommodate their every mood. Restaurants, cafes, cinemas - they took you everywhere. Tonightâs mood was a bar you werenât familiar with - a bar that people usually avoided, unknowingly to you.
âNo way you brought muffins with ya, Y/N.â, Martha looked at you and then at the container on your lap.
You looked at Felicia who had a small smile playing on her lips. âLeave her be. Like you didnât sing on every table the first time you were at the Lakeside Inn.â, she shook her head, glancing her way through the rearview mirror.
You felt a blush gradually warming up your cheeks. You looked outside of the window and noticed Felicia had finally parked the truck. Before you could hop out, a hand stopped you from doing so. You looked over your shoulder and noticed Kathy was the one who stopped you.
âThis bar â itâs uh, something, okay?â, she said, making you reluctantly nod. âJust stay close to us and youâll be fine.â
You didnât know what to think at Kathyâs words of warning. One after the other walked in the bar, smiles on their faces as they greeted guys they seemingly knew one or two things about. You followed suit and each time you looked up, you noticed gazes of men you had never seen before. They were nothing like the boys that borrowed a book or two at the library.
They wore denim jackets and smelled like oil, drinking whiskey and abusing on beer. You wondered if they ever stepped foot in a library before.
Darkness engulfed you the moment you stepped in the bar, suddenly realizing the lights were dimmed low â also the contrast with the smoke didnât help your vision any better. The girls found their usual table by the end of the room and sat down. You moved on the very end of the table and set the muffin container on top of the table.
âYou gonna sing something for us tonight, baby?â, a voice called from your left. You looked over and noticed a man with a denim jacket by the pool table, more likely addressing Martha as a giggle escaped her lips.
âIt ainât the day today.â, Martha responded and pulled out her cigarettes from her purse. âIâll be spending the evening with the girls.â
The guy huffed and turned to his friend with a laugh. âThem girls can sing too.â, he winked at us, making you sigh and look away. You made eye contact with Kathy who gave you a tight lipped smile.
Felicia let out a small gasp and leaned over the table. âOkay, donât turn around, but oh my god look at Benny tonight.â, Kathy sneakily looked to your left and cleared her throat.
âYeah, goddamn.â, she whistled, making you chuckle.
âKathy!â, you smiled at her. âHe ainât no animal.â
Felicia winked at you and raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way. âHeâll be my animal by the end of the night.â, Kathy laughed and slapped her arm. You let out a breathy laugh and finally gathered some courage to look to your left.
Goddamn indeed.
Broad shoulders and defined biceps, complimented by tattoos here and there. Soft, blonde curls made his blue eyes pop under the dimmer casted on the pool table. A cigarette hung from his lips as his hands were busy with the cue stick.
You were speechless. And absolutely mesmerized.
As the mysterious, handsome stranger bent down to aim, his gaze shifted from the balls to the most unexpected person in the room. You.
Your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden eye contact. Blue. Blue. Blue.
Your eyes hastily moved elsewhere â anywhere. The girls, the jukebox, the bar and your ridiculous container. You turned to Kathy, who seemed to take notice of your wild eyes.
âYou okay, Y/N?â, she asked, though her eyes moved from you to glance over your shoulder. âOh, lord.â
Felicia let out a low gasp and started tapping Marthaâs shoulder repeatedly. âWoman, go find yourself another man to ogle.â, she rolled her eyes and stood up. âIâm gonna find myself a man I actually stand a chance with.âÂ
Your eyes moved on Felicia, whose lips pursed at her friendâs words, but within seconds she straightened up.
âLadies.â, a voice greeted, the honey-like tone sent shivers down your spine. The sound of a screeching chair made you flinch in place. You slowly looked up and there they were again. The bluest eyes in Chicago, you thought.
âHi.â, he murmured once he was sat down, his chin on top of his crossed arms.
Felicia blinked and let out a breathy laugh. âHi, Benny.â
Benny.
But his eyes didnât move on her at the sound of his name. Kathy gave him a nod and an unenthusiastic hi.
Bennyâs eyes stayed on the young girl he had never met before. He was almost amused on the way you seemed to tremble in his presence. Shaky hands in your lap and your chest moving quicker after each breath.
âKathy.â, he said, his eyes finally shifting on the other woman. âWonât you introduce me to your new friend?â
You felt your heart skip a beat at his words.
Kathy sighed and briefly glanced at Felicia, who hastily pulled out a cigarette. âBenny this is Y/N, and Y/N this is Benny.â
That was the moment where you finally looked up, only to find his burning eyes waiting to meet yours.
âHi, honey.â, he gave you a smile - yet another reason for your heart to beat even faster.
You felt a blush staining your cheeks. âHi.â, a small smile started forming on your cheeks.
âAlright. Letâs go.â, Kathy abruptly stood up and nodded to Felicia. Though the girlâs eyes were burning holes on your skin. She absentmindedly stood up and walked away, but Kathy stayed back for a few more moments.
âOne hair out of place and Iâll kill you.â, she said and both yours and Bennyâs eyes moved on her, her expression stoic. Her words touched your heart in ways nobody could, simply proving once more how good of a friend she was.
âYes maâam.â, he nodded and within seconds his attention was back on you.Â
Kathy looked at you for a brief moment and smiled. âI know youâre in good hands⌠Though if you need anything, weâll be over there.â
You nodded and returned the smile. âThanks, Kat.â
You sighed and looked back at Benny. You couldnât help but smile, which was later on followed by a breathy laugh.
âWhatâs got you giggling, honey?â, he asked, a playful smile on his lips.
âYou.â, you answered with no hesitation. He raised his eyebrows and looked down, releasing a soft laugh.
âIâm flattered.â, he said and noticed the container on the table. âYou made ´em?â, you looked at the container and nodded.
âChocolate muffins.â
His eyes stared in yours for what seemed like an eternity. You used up those seconds to look at him too, once again completely mesmerized by the boyish smile he sported, despite the rugged-like exterior.
Oh, you were smitten.
âMay I?â
MASTERLIST PART 2
#benny cross#the bikeriders#benny cross x reader#austin butler#fanfiction#imagine#oneshot#austin butler x reader#benny cross imagine
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Pretty Green Eyes-I Mean Ties
Dean Winchester x gn!Reader
Summary: you find a little present for Dean
Warnings: none, pure cuteness, slight embarrassment, gn but use of 'sweetheart'
A/N: I'm obsessed with this gif, not proofread all mistakes are my own
You walked through the iles of the thrift store, looking for new shirts, after your favorite one was shredded by a monster last week. You and the Winchesters frequented second-hand shops; your clothing got ruined pretty often, so you had to buy cheap. That's also why you wore so much flannel, it was easy to find here.
The boys hadn't joined you on this shopping trip, so you were left to peruse the store without Dean getting onto you for 'getting distracted by the dead people stuff'. I mean, in your defense, wasn't that kind of part of your job?
As you looked through the men's clothing for a replacement jacket for Sam, something on one of the end caps caught your eye. You went over and picked up the deep emerald green suit tie. It reminded you of Dean's pretty green eyes.
In the years you had been hunting with the brothers, you had developed quite a crush on the older Winchester. Crush? Let's face it. You were in love with him, and you had alway loved his beautiful eyes.
You almost wanted to buy the tie for him. You rolled your eyes at the thought. It's not like the boys were big on gift-giving. Debating for a moment you decided he could wear it with his 'fed threads' âas he called your fake FBI suits- and tossed it in the cart before you could second guess yourself.
"Honey I'm home," you greeted in a sing-song tone as you entered the motel room you were sharing with the boys.
Digging in your bag, you handed Sam the jacket you had gotten him and he thanked you. Dean looked up from where he sat at the end of one of the beds cleaning his gun.
"I got you something too," you said, dropping the tie onto the bed next to him.
He picked it up and looked at you with a brief look of confusion.
"It matches your eyes."
Why did you say that? You internally cringed, feeling the heat rise in your face. Instead of looking at him, you stuffed your new clothes into you duffle bag.
"Thanks Sweetheart," Dean said a sweet smile gracing his lips.
"I'm going to take a shower." You hurried into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Really you wanted to run away from this situation so he didn't see how flustered you were.
"Awww," Sam said in a mocking tone as soon as the bathroom door shut behind you.
You may have missed how Dean blushed when you said that, but Sam didn't, and he wasn't going to miss the opportunity to tease his older brother. He knew that Dean had had feeling for you for years, but was too blind to realize that you felt the same.
"Shut up," Dean said, brushing off his bothers' teasing. He ran his finger over the fabric of the tie and smiled to himself. He knew he would keep it forever.
#dean winchester#supernatural#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean x y/n#dean winchester x gn!reader#dean winchester x reader fluff#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester drabble#spn#supernatural fic#supernatural x reader#supernatural x you#dean winchester imagine#spn x reader#supernatural drabble
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