#This idea had been rattling around my head for a while and finally I got around to writing it

[inmyheaddd]

kiss it off me - jameson hawthorne x reader

a/n: hold me.. console me.. then ill leave without a trace... woah i haven't posted a fic in a hot minute!!! this idea has been brewing in my mind since like october... may become a series, who knows!! anyway, i hope you enjoy 💖 wc: 5k synopsis: you and your long time best friend, jameson, meet up on a stranded beach to escape for a little while. who cares about anything else when the person you love looks hurt? warnings: tobias is alive in this, best friends who r inlove, what else is new?

Your leg bounced up and down in front of you as you waited, sitting on a bench overlooking the beach.

You came early so you’d have some alone time, time to think, but you quickly realised that was the worst idea ever, because you didn’t want to think.

You wanted to shut your mind off, you wanted to just be, and most of all, you just wanted to see Jameson.

So, there you sat, an hour earlier than the time you had agreed on with Jameson, wishing you had something to do other than sit and wonder and rattle your brain with thoughts. 

You’d been doing more than enough overthinking this winter.

The beach was a pretty sight, the sun starting to set, painting the sky shades of orange and pink, clouds looking like oversized strings of cotton candy in the sky. 

You let out a frustrated sigh of boredom, got up from the bench, and walked over to the sand. You looked around on the isolated beach—you were the only one here. 

Your family owned this strip of the beach, so you weren’t surprised that it was empty.

It had quickly become one of you and Jameson’s favourite hideout places. Not that you were particularly hiding from anything; it was more so just an escape from everything and everyone else. 

On that beach, nothing existed but you and Jameson, with the sand, the sky, and the sea.

You walked over to the blanket you always kept on the beach, folded and placed underneath a rock about twice the size of your fist to keep it from blowing away. 

You unfolded it, sat down, and entertained yourself by putting some breathing exercises into practice. Your therapist had given them to you months ago, but if you were being quite honest, you didn’t think of using them a single time after you left that room.

You weren’t even anxious; you were simply bored. You wished you had your headphones with you, or something to keep you company. 

The sun was setting even further; you stared out onto the beach in front of you and wished Jameson was seeing the sunset with you. Your favourites were the ones that had hints of pink and purples in them, while he liked the ones that ‘were golden and painted everything else golden too.’

He would love this one.

You then looked at your watch, which was a huge mistake. Whenever you thought about the time or checked it, it only seemed to pass infinitely slower.

Only 10 minutes had passed since you last checked. Another deep breath, and you exhaled it all as you held your head in your hands.

You brought your knees up to your chest and then hugged your arms around them. Your hoodie kept you warm, and so did the layers you had on underneath, but you still felt a weird shiver in your bones. You made a conscious effort to not check the time, then looked up. 

You turned your head left, seeing nothing but the beach, then right, and saw a figure far away, walking in your direction. 

The walk, the clothes, and the way this person began jogging once they spotted you—it all told you it was Jameson. 

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched on your face. You brought your arm up, waving wildly at him. He was closer now, and you could see the own grin on his face as he sent you a chin nod and waved back. 

You looked back at your legs as he finally approached the blanket you sat on. “Hey, you.’’ He breathed out, standing over you for a second and grinning, only a little out of breath after running 100 metres or so, just to get to you.

With a smile, you brought your gaze up to him, ‘’Hey there yourself,’’ you laughed through your sentence at the stupidity of the greeting.

“Pretty sunset, isn’t it?” He said

Just like how you had expected.��“Yeah,” you nodded in appreciation of the sky, “It’s pretty.”

He suddenly tilted his head slightly. “You’re early,” he pointed out, and then with a furrow of his brow, he said, “How long have you been here?”

You ignored the last part of his question. You glanced at your watch before answering, “Technically, you’re also early. ’’

“Technically, I don’t care.” 

“Okay, still. Why are you early?” You insisted. If you were being honest, you were insanely thankful that he was here right now, and didn’t arrive an hour later like you’d originally planned.

You had absolutely no clue what you’d do for an hour, which seemed to stretch on forever when you were alone.

He was silent for a moment, then sighed as he finally sat down, leaning back with his legs outstretched, looking at you. ‘’I know you; I know you’d be early.’’

You quirked a brow up, despite the way your stomach erupted with butterflies. I know you. 

‘’Okay…?’’ You forced a chuckle, tearing your gaze away from Jameson and telling those butterflies in your stomach to respectfully leave and never come back. ‘’What does that have to do with you being early?’’

Jameson shrugged like it was obvious, looking at the sea when you finally looked at him again. ‘’I just wanted to spend more time with you.’’

The butterflies did not leave and never come back. 

You wished they would’ve, because Jameson was your friend. Your best friend, though you felt that friend wasn’t even a good enough term to describe what you were. 

You’d known each other since you were kids, been there for each other when your family wasn’t, and seen each other through just about every embarrassing phase there is. You often times felt as if you knew each other better than you knew yourselves. 

Friend didn’t cover it. 

But whatever he was, whatever your friendship was—it didn’t include romantic feelings. 

Again, you wished those millions of butterflies to go find someone else to torment.

“The real reason?” You prodded, raising a brow at him. 

‘’That is the real reason.’’ He protested, gasping in mock offence. ‘’Although, I wouldn’t be lying if I said that one of Xander’s started making a weird buzzing noise… And, well… Getting out of the house was the safest option."

You felt a little twang of disappointment, then you felt annoyed that you were feeling disappointed. “Since when did you care about safety?”

Jameson shot you a look. “Since I don’t want my eyebrows burnt off.” He deadpanned.

“Okay, fair.” You rolled your eyes with a slight laugh. "Well. I’m glad you’re here.’’ You said a little quieter. “With both of your eyebrows intact.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” His eyes glinted with a smile, “With… both of my eyebrows intact.”

You were both silent for a second, holding back laughs as you looked at each other, until Jameson let out a snort— and you both started laughing.

You covered your face with your hands, shaking your head as you tried to control your giggles. 

God, could you get any more awkward? This was why you hated the idea of having feelings for him, because then you started to act different and make things awkward by saying things like I’m glad you’re here with both of your eyebrows intact.

You were a goner.

Your laughter died out, then you started talking about your respective days—the things that set you off, the things you waited to tell each other in person, overall, about nothing and everything.

After a moment of silence, you looked over at him, noticing a strange look on his face as he stared out at the horizon. There was a deep crease in his dark brows, his expression almost grim. You scooted a little closer to him.

“What’s up with you?” You nudged his shoulder gently. “You have that weird… furrow in your brow.” 

“Nothing's up with me.” He turned to look at you, offering one of those dangerously distracting Jameson Winchester Hawthorne grins for a moment.

But it didn’t work. It looked off and strained. “What’s up with you?”

“Deflecting and a weird look?” You raised your brow incredulously. “ We hang out too much for that lie to work on me.” 

He sighed dramatically, looking forward. The sky was shades of dark pink and orange now, the sun bouncing off the clouds and colouring them. 

Jameson looked at you once again, his green eyes looked extra inviting with the pink sky around him, like a dangerous sea you could get lost in, possibly never find your way out of, but one you almost wanted to get lost in nonetheless.

His eyes flickered over you, and you got the feeling he was trying to read your expression. “It’s times like these I wish you didn’t care about me." He said so casually, "Then I wouldn’t have to face my emotions.” 

The way he said it—without realising, he made it sound like there were other emotions, not just whichever ones he was dealing with right now. 

“Oh, don’t worry.” You responded jokingly, rolling your eyes the slightest bit. “I don’t care about you. Not in the slightest.” 

Jameson’s smile seemed a little less strained at that. “Wonderful.”

“Truly.”

“Agreed.” 

You let the silence stretch for a moment, seeing if he’d say anything else.

He didn’t.

If this were anyone else, you’d stay quiet.

But this was Jameson; your friendship meant more to you than the fear of being seen as annoying or pushy. Besides, you quickly learnt that Jameson wouldn’t talk unless he had that push, even if he did really want to.

“Okay, enough of these one-word answers.” You sighed, trying to mask the pure concern you felt with a light chuckle. “What the hell is wrong?” 

Jameson chuckled humourlessly, propping himself back up on his hands again. “You know how it is,” he said, “the usual.” 

“The usual as in the old man?” You deadpanned, “Or the usual as in you did something reckless to shut your brain off?” There was no point in beating around the bush, especially when you both knew each other more than anyone else in your life. 

Jameson didn’t meet your eyes. He shrugged casually, “The usual as in both.” 

Your heart tore a little at his words. You wondered if he was lying about one of Xander’s machines exploding. Then you thought about it; you knew Xander, and knew he often resorted to his robotics room when he felt hurt.

It was highly probable that Jameson wasn't lying. He just wasn't telling the full truth.

It was a Saturday. What could the old man have said that managed to ruin his grandsons like this?

You hated how Tobias could reduce your best friend to a mess of feelings and emotions—to a boy who felt like he wasn’t good enough and would never be—with just a few disapproving words.

Nobody should have that amount of power. Ever. 

You pressed your lips together for a moment. “I don’t like your grandpa. Not one bit.”

“That's funny.” That dry, sad chuckle of Jameson’s was killing you. He ran a hand through his hair. Roughly. “He rather likes you. Says you’re a bright girl, a good influence for me.”

“I told you, Jameson,” your voice came out softer than you intended, “I don’t care about anything he has to say.” 

He called Jameson ordinary. 

Jameson felt like he was betraying Tobias for simply telling you what he said.

That was the moment you lost respect for the man.

“Everything he says is bullshit. If you don’t want to talk about it, I get that.” You paused for a second, watching his expression and waiting for him to meet your eyes. 

The second he did, you almost wished he didn’t, because the look of sheer hurt in his eyes almost made you lose your breath. 

’But Jamie…” You couldn’t hide the worry on your face anymore. “Please know whatever he says isn’t worth anything. If you’re going to trust me on one thing, let it be that.”

Jameson was silent for a moment, looking down at the sand. His voice came out hoarse, then he finally met your eyes. “I trust you with everything.” 

You managed a little smile because you had a feeling that if you didn’t, you would’ve probably teared up instead. “You still wishing I didn’t care about you?”

Jameson shut his eyes for a moment, chuckling. “God, no.” He admitted. “I don’t even know what I’d do without you.”

He said the last part so simply, so matter-of-factly, you almost didn’t catch it until you realised what he said.

“If it’s any consolation,” you started, a slow smile dragging on your lips, “I trust you with everything, too.”

Jameson went still for a moment, something shifting in his expression.

He masked it so quick you might’ve missed it if you weren’t watching him so closely.

Then his grin slowly returned. “Some would say that’s a dangerous choice.” His voice was playful, but his eyes told a different story.

“I don’t mind dangerous.” You shrugged.

Now his eyes turned teasing. “You probably should.”

You rolled your eyes at the irony, but you still couldn’t even manage a small laugh because of the moments prior. “Look who’s talking, Jamie.”

“Hey, I do mind it sometimes,” He raised his hands up in mock surrender. “Yes, I like playing dangerous; I’m simply saying... I don’t like playing it dangerous when it comes to us.”

Us. He said that like it was something important to him.

“Yeah.” You tried not to overthink what he just said. He didn’t want to play it dangerous, as in he cared about your friendship so much? Or was he trying to say he didn’t want to take it any further than friends? And let you down slowly? Or was he saying the opposite, that he was scared to?

Your eyes flickered over his face as your thoughts ran, finally focusing on his eyes. “Good. We’re keeping us safe.”

He ran a hand through his hair, smiling at you. “Good.” He echoed.

After that, neither of you said anything else for a minute, which you didn’t mind. You fell into a comfortable silence as you so often did. It was never awkward with him, there was never a need to fill the silence. You could just be there with each other and exist.

That was what you loved. In both of your lives, there was always way too much pressure on who you had to be, the way you had to act.

But there was no pressure when it was just you two.

You stared out at the beach in front of you, quickly entranced at the way the waves met the shore, the way nature seemed like the only constant when everything else was hectic in your life.

Well, nature, and you and Jameson.

‘’It’s freezing, c’mere.’’ His voice shook you out of your trance-like state. He didn’t have a grin on his face like you’d expected when you looked over at him, but more so a look of concern.

He opened his arms out for you, and you let out a little laugh as you scooted closer, leaning into his chest.

Your arms wrapped around his torso, head on his chest. “It is freezing.” You paused, “Oh God, I feel my teeth clattering.’’

“Yeah? I can hear it.” Jameson laughed, slowly lowered the both of you down onto the blanket, then his arm began running up and down your arm, the other bringing you even closer in attempts to make you feel less cold.

You lay in each other’s arms, your head on his chest as you looked up at the sky above you. 

You stayed like that for a while, simply talking.

Every time he laughed, you felt his laughter, and you thought, surely there’s no other better feeling, his laughter vibrating through your body.

Feeling it warm your heart like it was your own happiness doing the job.

The sun quickly set, and the stars were on full display. You specifically loved this beach, because it was so far away from all the city lights that put those stars to death. You could see everything when it finally got dark.

You lay in his arms while you spotted constellations, and laughed while arguing with Jameson over which one was which. 

“I’m telling you, that’s the Big Dipper. I’m sure of it.’’ He said, unwrapping one arm from around you and pointing to a bundle of stars. 

‘’No, Jameson,’’ You guided his arm over to the left with your hand, ‘’That’s the Big Dipper.’’

You turned over in his arms to face him, one of his arms wrapped under your waist as you lay on your side. 

Your head was propped up with your other hand, so you watched his expression as he lay on the blanket, and he hummed in thought with his eyebrows furrowed. 

He opened his mouth to argue but then fell flat. ‘’Oh.’’

He pointed back at the stars he was pointing at earlier, your hand still on his arm. "So… what’s that then?”

You paused, looking at them for a good minute, trying to decipher which constellation it was. You came up blank. 

“My knowledge might be limited, but…’’ you mumbled, your hand returning back to your side, and then you looked down at him again. “I don’t think that even is a constellation. They’re just some stars.”

Jameson was silent for a moment before putting his arm back down in defeat. He hummed, “That’s oddly sad.”

You adjusted the way you sat, scooting back into his arms and laying your head on his chest as both arms wrapped around you. You hadn’t realised how cold you were just a minute earlier until you felt warm.

Your hand drew patterns on Jameson’s arm. “But it doesn’t have to be.’’ You muttered, hesitating slightly. "I mean, they can still be important without being a constellation. They can just be stars.”

“They can just be stars,” Jameson repeated, and you were suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you could hear his heartbeat, your ear on his chest. “I like that.”

“Listen,” he started again, “This defeats the whole purpose of what you just said, but… Why don’t we just make it our own constellation?”

You laughed a little, shaking your head. “Just let them be stars, Jamie, for Godsake.” You huffed a laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. 

“Just tell me what you see. After we leave this beach, they’ll go back to being stars. But when we’re here, it’s our little constellation.”

“Okay, fine.” You rolled your lips inwards, “Our constellation…” You trailed off, trying to find something that fit those clusters of stars.

“I can’t see anything.” You admitted after a long second. 

You were almost saddened by the fact that you had a chance to make some special moment between the two of you, something for those butterflies—that insisted on never going away—to actually have something to be happy about. 

Instead of saying all that, you just stared at the stared at the stars and saw nothing extraordinary. Hiding that weird sense of melancholy, you asked Jameson, “Well, what do you see?’’

“I see…” he chuckled, “God, what do I see? I think… I see a bench… With two people on it.”

“A bench?” You questioned.

“Yes, a bench,’’ he craned his neck down to shoot you a look, then leaned his head back on the blanket. ‘’Those ones at the bottom, those are the legs; then that part is the bench; then those are the heads of the people.” He said, pointing at each part as he went along. “See?”

You squinted as you tried to imagine the picture Jameson was trying to paint. You tried, you really did, but you had no idea what he was on about. "Oh, actually, yeah!’’ You said, nodding. “Yeah, I see it.”

A silence followed… Then Jameson suddenly started laughing.

You felt him chuckling against you, so you lifted your head. The sight of his smile was enough to make the biting cold disappear for a moment. ‘’What?” You said through a smile, unable to stop yourself from laughing too.

“You are by far,’’ Jameson managed through a series of low laughs, one arm slung over his face as he continued laughing. ‘’The world’s worst liar.”

Your jaw fell open, accompanied by uncontrollable laughter on your end too. “What! I’m not lying—I do see it!” 

Jameson kept laughing, so you fully sat up, pushing yourself off of him and crossing your legs. He propped himself up on his elbows as he watched you. 

“Look! I see it!” You wouldn’t believe yourself if you were him, because you couldn’t even speak without laughing through every sentence. 

“That's the bench, and those are the legs, and uhm… Those are the heads. It’s our constellation!” You pointed up at the sky, vaguely in the direction of the stars you were looking at.

“I beg of you,” Jameson’s laughter was dying out, but he still had that smile on his face, ‘’Never attempt to lie again. That was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not lying.” You said through a stifled giggle, putting your most serious face on.

“Say that again without that look in your eyes, and then I’ll believe you.” Jameson said.

Your smile faltered a little, and everything else in that moment seemed to slow down for a moment as you stayed looking at him, “What look in my eyes?”

Jameson’s endless green eyes never left yours. He pressed his lips together for a moment, then let out a low chuckle, which more so sounded like a sigh. He didn’t answer your question. “Nothing. Lay with me for a while, will you?”

A part of you was disappointed he changed the subject; what did he mean by ‘look in your eyes’?

Then you criticised yourself for being disappointed. He probably just meant a teasing glint in your eye, like the one he has before he’s about to say something stupid in hopes of making you laugh.

You shook yourself out of your stupor, looking at the sky for a second before you looked back at Jameson.

With a roll of your eyes, you uncrossed your legs and shifted towards Jameson. “What a stupid question.” You remarked. “Of course I will.”

Jameson’s expression turned amused with a raise of his brows. “Insulting and sweet, all in one go.” Jameson said, almost in appreciation. He lay on his back, and you on your side. “You are an enigma.”

“Don’t push your luck,” You muttered back, resting your hand underneath your face as you looked at him. “Next time, I’ll be just insulting.”

He turned to look at you, his hands resting behind his head casually with his elbows wide and relaxed. “I won’t mind.” He said simply.

You managed a dirty look, which only resulted in the both of you laughing. Your voice was hushed, “You are very strange.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love strange.” He responded, a low chuckle escaping as he spoke.

You swore his eyes literally shone— glinted, sparkled, any word in the dictionary to describe something shiny could’ve been used to describe his eyes in that moment, but it still didn’t feel true enough.

You were a little obsessed with the way they always seemed to be a little smiley when it was just you around.

You managed a bored, frustrated sigh as you puffed out your lips. “And what gave you that impression?”

“Quite a few things, actually.” Jameson’s voice was low and gravely. He grinned at you, his eyes lidded slightly.

Your brows furrowed at that statement. Why was he saying things like that today? What on earth did that mean too? You were too tired to worry about it.

You felt a shiver pass through you as you looked away, then Jameson rose a brow and took that as a sign to open his arms out for you.

Wordlessly, you accepted the invite as you shuffled forward into his open arms. His arms wrapped around you tight, like they had a million times before. And you curled up against him, your arms around his middle.

You just then realised how late it had gotten. You’d been here since sunset, and the sky was completely dark now. Yes, it was dark this whole time you were stargazing, but you didn’t really let the fact sink in. 

How long had passed? 3 hours? 4?

You noticed that Jameson’s breath steadied, his hold on you the tiniest bit looser. Your own eyes were feeling extremely heavy.

You tried to stay awake, to dwell in the moment a little longer and memorise the feel of Jameson’s arms around you, the faint smell of his cologne—faint cedar and whiskey—and the comforting chill of the breeze.

You couldn’t help closing your eyes for just a few seconds.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you found yourself lying in a completely different position than you slept in, Jameson’s front against your back with both his arms around you. You and Jameson must’ve fallen asleep still holding each other because of the cold gust of winds.

You carefully unravelled Jameson's arms around you. The pins and needles in your arm told you: you definitely did not just close your eyes for a few seconds. It must’ve been way past midnight by now.

Still slightly numb, your pushed yourself up so you were sitting up slightly.

Your attention went back to Jameson when you heard him groan slightly, his arms patting the blanket for a second, then he shifted to lay on his back.

You looked at the way stars shone in the distance, the sun long, long gone, and replaced by the moon. You then looked down at Jameson, who was still lying down, and his eyes were fluttering open slowly.

Thank goodness for the moonlight, and the faint beach house lights far away that illuminated his features in the prettiest way.

His eyes then opened fully, and you locked eyes for a moment.

A small smile played on his lips as he furrowed his brows slightly, as if asking you, What are you looking at?

You smiled back, despite your heart beating faster in your chest and feeling like you got caught in the act.

A part of you wondered how you could feel so warm inside when it was the middle of winter.

Jameson simply opened his arms out once again from below you, beckoning you in.

You didn’t move, only letting out a sleepy laugh as you tried to engrain this image in your mind—the slight messiness of his hair, messier than usual, the way the green in his eyes was no longer visible because of the dark, but they still gleamed and glittered all the same.

You suddenly wished you had thought of the time more, so that it would’ve passed slower.

“Come here,” he grumbled, feigning annoyance with that stupid smile on his face, his voice tinged with sleepiness.

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely,” you mumbled back, as if you spoke any louder, the moment would shatter.

Your voices didn’t need to carry much volume in this moment, because you didn’t really need them. He could understand you just with a single look. You understood each other.

You fell back into his arms, and his arms wrapped around you a little tighter this time.

One hand was doing the same thing as last time, running up and down your arm, while the other was wrapped around your waist and pulling you close, like if he held you any looser you would slip between his fingers—someone trying to pick up sand, or hold water in their hands.

Your legs tangled in each other's, Jameson's soothing hand began to slow down, but you selfishly didn’t want to fall asleep quite yet.

“Jameson?” You mumbled against his chest.

He hummed, and you felt the vibrations coming from his chest. “Yes?”

“What if…” You started, “What if this was every day? What if we just ran away from everything for a while?”

You were rambling nonsense, of course you weren’t going to run away. You couldn’t lie and say you never thought of it, but, it was simply reckless.

You could afford the consequences of running away, not with who your parents were and the image you’d paint.

‘’I think… I wouldn’t mind my days being full of you.’’ He confessed quietly, ‘’I mean, having fun with you. Making memories, living life to the fullest, and all that jazz." He continued, his hand resuming going up and down your arm. He exhaled, and you felt his neck move, looking down at you. ‘’You got any more ‘what if’s’ for me?’’

You hummed in thought—you had a lot. “Yeah, actually.” You laughed slightly, “What if we get hypothermia out here? And, like, die before we get the chance to even run away?’’

You felt him let out a low, sleepy chuckle against you. You bit back your smile even though he couldn’t see you, out of sheer habit.

You wanted to lift your head and see his face, see his smile, but you felt way too comfortable on his chest to move a single inch, and you had that nagging feeling that if you did get up, you wouldn’t be able to find the same comfortable way you were laying when you went back down.

“Never mind.’’ He decided, his voice breaking your thoughts. “No more what if’s for you.”

If only that could silence the what if’s that lingered in your mind.

“Hey!” you defended yourself, laughing slightly. “It’s a valid question.”

His hand that was previously on your back lifted up, and you suddenly felt cold again, until he began toying with the ends of your hair, then ran his hands through it, sending shivers that had nothing to do with the cold down your spine.

“One that I don’t have the answer to. We’ll see when we wake up.”

You managed a laugh despite your tiredness, and also managed another sarcastic remark. “But… will we?”

You heard him gasp incredulously, though it was quiet. “You,’’ he tapped your shoulder as if to emphasise your point, ‘’Are one dark, twisted person. If you don’t have hopes for us surviving one night, how do you have hopes for anythingelse?”

“I’m not dark and twisted! I have hope, I swear.” You felt yourself getting sleepier, eyes getting heavier, and you couldn’t help the light chuckles passing by your lips. “I’m just tired. Anything feels possible when you’re awake.” You stifled a yawn, ‘’Especially with you—like, having someone with you to keep you going. You know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Jameson said. “I’ll still know you’re there, though. Even if I’m sleeping. Or tired. You’re in my arms. Anything still feels possible.” He continued lowly, “So, I will survive hypothermia.”

Jameson’s voice could almost bring you to sleep. A giggle slipped your lips, “You’re going to survive hypothermia by sheer willpower? Subconciously?”

“Thats the goal, yes.”

Shaking your head, you let out a long sigh. “You and your Hawthorne overachiever goals.’’

You felt Jameson laugh tiredly against you, then you realised he was trying to keep himself awake, like you were, for the sole purpose of staying in the moment together for longer.

‘’Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into when we first met. You knew me.”

You let out a sigh, picturing the little middle-school version of you both ditching an event held by your parents, and accidentally meeting each other by the staircase to the cellar. Your spot.

You remembered your frustration when he asked you what you were doing there, when he was in your house.

Then you remembered thinking his green eyes were quite pretty, and after you got to talking, thinking he wasn’t all that bad.

“I pretty much did, yeah.” You agreed with a light laugh.

Though, a part of that wasn’t true. Sure, you picked up on his dangerous, devastating smile, that he was a risk taker, and that he did things according to his will. You knew he was a Hawthorne, and that Hawthorne’s weren’t easy or simple.

But you would’ve never known upon seeing him that first time, that you would develop a friendship with him that made you believe in fate.

“Then you should know,” He said, “hypothermia is not standing a chance against us.”

That word again. Us.

“If we survive the night,” You jokingly started, hearing Jameson hold back a laugh and mask it with a cough, “Let’s do something crazy tomorrow to honour it.”

“Crazy,” he hummed, “crazy, as in?” He prodded on.

“Crazy as in we run away for a day.” You blurted, without really thinking. “I dare us to do it.”

He let out an amused chuckle. “Well, you know I’m one for crazy.” Jameson said, and you could hear the grin in his voice as you pulled yourself closer to him the tiniest bit more, adjusting your head on his chest. “And you know I’m not one to back down from a dare. But are you being one hundred percent serious?

His hand ran over your hair, sending tingles down your spine. “Yes, I am. I’m not fully insane; we aren’t really running away, I guess. It’s just like a little road trip if you think about it,” you said.

“A road trip with no destination and not telling anyone where we are off to.” He contemplated, “Sounds like a recipe for disaster. I like it.”

“And, where are we running off to?” He then said, continuing. “You know, if we do survive this horrible, tempestuousnight.”

You let out a little laugh at his dramatics. You felt so at peace in this moment, looking at the pitch black sky with stars dotting it alight, hearing the faint sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

Your gazed fixed on those special cluster of stars, and you could almost start to see what Jameson was saying earlier.

The bench, the two people. Our constellation, you thought giddily.

“I don’t know,” You admitted, “anywhere but here. Just for a few days. I’m kind of growing sick of it all.”

“Then we’ll go anywhere.” Jameson concluded. “Just for a few days.“ His hand slowed, then stopped in your hair, then it moved to the middle of your back, and his hand lay flat.

Your eyes were heavy, and you attempted to stifle a yawn but failed.

You wrapped your arms tighter around Jameson, and felt his hand grasp the fabric of your hoodie. You wondered how long it would take your parents to notice your absence. Then you thought about all the things you could do, places you could go with Jameson.

“I’ll make a plan tomorrow morning.” You mumbled in your half-awake state, because it didn’t hurt to just be a littleorganised, especially when your ‘runaway partner’ was someone who liked to live on the edge 24/7.

You could hear Jameson’s tiredness in his voice, along with that intoxicating smile. “I knew you’d say something like that.”

A little chuckle fell past your lips as you felt Jameson’s chin rest atop your head. You curled a little closer into his chest, finally letting your eyes shut.

You’d give up the sun, the moon, the stars, and everything in between if it meant everything could stay like this forever.

Well… Maybe not the stars. You wouldn’t want to give up your new favourite constellation.

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams��@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3 @apollospoem @jjsblueberry @yayyy-insecurities

[totes-tubulardude]

Not Star Wars but I mentioned a while ago a sibling g/t story and I finally wrote out a lil bit of it!

-

The sound of sirens had long since faded by the time Luke began to slow down. He didn’t stop moving until the lights from the city were pretty well and faded from the night sky, this far out into the sticks no one was moving around this time of night. 

Uphead was what looked like a shed structure, considering that he couldn’t see any lights or any cars near it he assumed that it was empty. The perfect place for right now. 

In his arms, Kira was still expect for the occasional shudder, he hoped it was from the cold outside. She was smaller than she was supposed to be, or he was larger than he should be, she didn’t weigh much to him right now which was good considering how far he’d run to get them away. 

Sure enough, the large shed was empty, save for a few boxes and tool cabinets. 

He let out a relieved sigh as he set his sister down. 

Kira stumbled a little as she got her feet underneath her. 

Normally she came up to mid chest in height, right now she barely cleared his stomach. He wasn’t even trying to be bigger than he should be, this was just happening. 

“Are you okay?” He asked her.

She stared up at him before nodding hesitantly. He let out a sigh of relief. There had been so much happening before, he’d just grabbed her and run the first chance he’d gotten. 

Everything was so messed up now. Those men had come for him, they’d wanted him for whatever this ability was. The thought of what had happened caused him to shoot up a few more inches.

Not good. 

Luke paced back and forth, dragging his hands through his hair roughly as he tried to gain some semblance of control over his emotions. It wasn’t going very well considering that his skin felt like it was growing tighter and tighter. 

Finally, he sank down onto the floor, putting his head between his knees to quell some of the nausea he was feeling. He was honestly still trying to wrap his head around this whole situation, which was not particularly helping calm him down. 

All he knew right now was he was on the run, he had his ten year old sister with him, and he had little to no control over these abilities. He should be working through his junior year of high school not dealing with this!

Oh god, he was on the run. From some weird government agency that probably wanted to experiment on him or something. 

He felt himself shoot up a little in height and suddenly his knee collided with something. There was a thunderous crash as he knocked over one of the tool cabinets, sending it careening into some of the boxes and causing Kira to scramble out of the way of falling items with a small shout. 

“Crap, Kira are you okay?”

He was large enough now that he could reach his hand over towards his sister without getting up. That certainly wasn’t bizarre. 

Kira flinched back slightly from his outstretched hand and pushed herself away from him a little, the loud sound of the crashing items still ringing in both of their ears. Luke froze. 

Even in the dim light of the LED lantern, he could see the fear in her eyes. Holy shit she was afraid of him. 

Any semblance of control he had shattered. 

Luke groaned as his body swelled in size and he brought his hands up to grip his head. 

This wasn’t good. He was supposed to protect his sister, not terrify her. 

His feet slid across the floor as he continued to grow. Shit this was probably scaring her more. That thought sent another wave of panic through him which only seemed to increase his height faster. 

Luke tried desperately to calm down, but nothing was working. All he could think about was how fucking scared he was and how scary he probably was to Kira.

His left hip hit something, causing it to topple in a much quieter cacophony. 

Shit, shit shit. 

His back pressed against the wall suddenly. Luke lifted his head out of his hands and turned to see that he was indeed now large enough to have reached the wall. The ceiling was nearing the top of his head as well. 

Before the thought of that could send a wave of panic through him, he forced himself to take deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. Slowly but surely he felt himself start to calm himself down enough to slow his growing. 

He took up a large amount of the floor now and he tucked his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs as he continued to breathe. Kira was near the other wall watching him, she was both too far away and now too small for him to make out her expression in the dim light. That might be a good thing considering that he was just now getting himself back under control. 

Luke shut his eyes and focused back on his breathing. Finally he felt himself stop growing, just before his head would start brushing against the ceiling. 

He let out a long sigh of relief. 

Suddenly he felt a small pressure on his arm, making him jump slightly. Luke blinked his eyes open and looked down to see Kira resting her hand on his forearm. He froze once again. 

Holy shit she looked absolutely tiny next to him now. 

She reached up to place her other hand against his arm too, it felt like she was trying to tug him slightly. 

“I’m fine.” He said quietly, but his voice still rang out in the space. “Sorry for scaring you earlier. I’m um… trying to figure this out.”

She pushed at him imploringly. 

He furrowed his brows and carefully lowered his right arm down towards her, not entirely sure what she wanted from him. 

“Look,” He mumbled as she seemed to inspect him. “I don’t have, like any control over this ability. For now you probably should stay away from me.” 

She looked up at him with imploring confusion. 

“As you just saw, I can’t really control this.” He explained. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you. I’d stay away from me until I have more control of this… not as dangerous.”

She continued to stare up at him with one of her looks that made him feel like she was staring right into his soul. He dropped her gaze and rested his chin on his knees.

Luke hoped she understood what he was trying to explain. 

The reason that agency was probably after him was because he was dangerous. Seeing what he’d done to that building and how easily Kira had almost been hurt moments ago, he found that he suddenly didn’t blame them. He’d want a freak like him locked up in some facility away from people he could hurt. 

Luke’s head jerked down when he felt a new pressure on his arm. His eyes widened even more when he saw that Kira was scrambling up onto his forearm. 

“Wait Kira-” She crawled up to the crook of his elbow with surprising ease. “W-what are you doing?”

She looked up at him before waving her arm, motioning towards his still bunched up legs. He continued to stare at her with no small amount of fear and did not move a single muscle. One small move and he feared that he send her tumbling off of him. 

Kira let out a long suffering huff before scrambling up his arm a little more and making as if to hop into his lap. 

“What the-”

Luke quickly unbunched his legs and brought his left hand up under her to support her as she landed on his stomach. 

Holy shit he could support her with one hand. That wasn’t terrifying at all. 

“Kira I don’t think this is a good idea.” He said, unease making his voice waver slightly. 

In response she sank down on his palm, letting her back lean against his stomach and her feet dangle over his hand. She settled back before patting his finger and looking up at him. 

“I trust you.” She spoke softly and simply. 

Luke melted almost instantly at that. 

He slowly brought his hand up by his chest and wrapped his right arm around his middle. 

[gf2bellamy]

mistake — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer overhears you and derek talking and he misunderstands your conversation, causing him to distance himself from you. content warnings: mention of being held at gunpoint, biting lip + lip bleeding, spencer being cold a/n: this idea has been stuck in my head for so long !!! i hope you guys like it <33

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the breakroom as you stood by the counter, suppressing a yawn behind your hand.

Derek Morgan leaned casually against the counter, his coffee mug in hand, watching you. “You okay?” he asked, concern flickering in his tone despite the casual delivery. 

You glanced at him, offering a crooked smile. “If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that today…” you trailed off, finishing your coffee preparation.

Moving aside to let Derek reach the machine, you took your first sip, savoring the warmth against your lips. “I’ve been saying the same thing all morning—I’m fine.” 

Morgan arched a skeptical brow, filling his mug. “You were held at gunpoint two days ago,” he pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. 

You shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “And nothing happened. I’m fine,” you repeated firmly. 

“Tell that to Pretty Boy,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. 

Confused, you turned to face him fully, eyebrows raised. “Why?” 

Derek chuckled, leaning against the counter as he studied your reaction. “He was driving everyone insane while you were in that house. Emily nearly bit his head off.” 

The image of Reid pacing anxiously, rattling off statistics and scenarios, flashed in your mind, and you couldn’t suppress a faint smile. “Hotch got me out. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.” 

At that moment, the sound of footsteps and muffled voices drifted from the hallway as other team members began filtering in, but Derek’s gaze stayed locked on you, serious now. “You know Reid would do anything for you, right?” 

You froze, his words hitting like a direct shot to your chest. The air in the room seemed to thicken, your grip tightening around your coffee cup.

“Yeah,” you mumbled after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Derek didn’t look away. “Good,” he said simply, though his tone suggested he wasn’t convinced you fully understood the weight of it. 

You took another sip of your coffee, your gaze fixed on the countertop as the warmth seeped through the ceramic into your hands.

The thought of Reid’s concern—his constant, almost obsessive worrying—made your chest ache. It was a strange sensation, both comforting and upsetting, like being wrapped in a blanket too tight to breathe.

“I don’t like it,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. 

Morgan’s sharp ears caught it instantly. He raised an eyebrow, his posture shifting as his curiosity piqued. “What’s there not to like?” 

You hesitated, the words tangling in your throat. The memories flashed unbidden in your mind—situations where Reid had thrown himself into danger without hesitation, his only concern being you. The way he’d rushed headlong into harm’s way, ignoring all logic and training. The sleepless nights where you’d caught him pacing, the worry etched so deeply into his features that you couldn’t shake the guilt. 

“It worries me sometimes that…” you started, trailing off as your grip tightened around the mug. 

Morgan tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That…?” he prompted, his voice softer now, coaxing the rest of your thought. 

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat stubbornly refusing to go away. “That he cares too much,” you admitted finally, though the words felt heavier than you expected. “He’s put himself in danger for me before. More than once. And I don’t like making him worry. I…” You stopped yourself, realizing you were about to reveal too much. “I don’t know,” you finished lamely, shaking your head and taking another sip to avoid meeting Morgan’s gaze. 

Derek didn’t respond right away, his silence stretching just long enough to make you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He was studying you. 

Derek opened his mouth, a reply forming on his lips, but before he could speak, Emily poked her head into the room.

“Hey, we’ve got a case,” she announced, disappearing just as quickly as she’d arrived. 

Relieved by the interruption, you exhaled quietly and gave Derek a quick smile. “Guess we’ll finish this later,” you said lightly, already moving toward the door before he could reply.

Derek watched you leave, his expression unreadable, before standing and following at his own pace. 

You entered the briefing room, greeted by the sight of Garcia standing at the front, beaming as usual. Her bright pink outfit, complete with colorful accessories, added an air of cheerfulness to the otherwise somber atmosphere. 

“Hi, you two,” Garcia chirped, her voice full of warmth as you and Derek walked in. 

“Hey, Garcia,” you said with a small smile, settling into your usual seat at the table. Derek took the chair directly in front of you, glancing at his phone. 

Moments later, Spencer entered the room. Your eyes instinctively flicked to him, your lips parting to greet him, but he didn’t look your way.

Instead, he avoided your gaze entirely, his expression carefully neutral as he chose a seat farther away—one that was decidedly not next to you. 

You blinked, surprised. Confusion prickled at your thoughts as you watched him pretend to bury himself in the case file that Garcia handed him.

Normally, Spencer greeted you with an enthusiastic smile or a quiet, thoughtful comment. This coldness was unlike him. 

Your eyes shifted to Derek, silently seeking an explanation. He met your gaze, one eyebrow raised, but said nothing. 

“Here you go,” Garcia whispered, slipping a file into your hands. She leaned closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Did you two argue?” 

“What? No,” you whispered back quickly, shaking your head. 

But as the team slowly trickled into the room, it became clear you weren’t the only one noticing the strange tension.

One by one, each team member did a double-take when they saw Spencer’s choice of seat. Everyone knew the two of you were close.

Sitting next to each other during briefings was practically tradition. 

Yet there he was, pointedly looking at his file as if he hadn’t broken that unspoken rule. 

You tried not to let it show, but your heart sank a little as you flipped open your own file. The questions swirled in your mind: Was it something you said? Something you did? 

For the rest of the meeting, you forced yourself to focus on the case, determined to push the nagging thoughts aside. But every now and then, your eyes drifted toward him, hoping for a hint of what was wrong. 

And every time, Spencer Reid refused to meet your gaze. 

Once Garcia finished explaining the details of the case and the team had hashed out the initial plan, Hotch’s voice brought the meeting to a close.

“Wheels up in 20,” he said, and everyone began gathering their things. 

You hesitated, lingering in your seat as the others started filing out of the room. Your eyes flickered toward Spencer, silently willing him to look your way, to give some kind of indication that everything was okay.

But he didn’t. 

Instead, he moved quickly, clutching his file tightly as he left the room in a rush. His long strides carried him away before you could even think of stopping him. You bit your lip, frustration and confusion bubbling up as you watched him disappear down the hall. 

Shaking it off, you grabbed your things and followed the rest of the team, trying to focus on the case rather than the knot of uncertainty twisting in your chest. 

By the time you boarded the jet, you weren’t surprised anymore when you saw Spencer seated far away from his usual spot next to you. He was already absorbed in his file, his profile turned slightly away, making it clear he wasn’t about to acknowledge you. 

Your heart sank a little, but you forced yourself not to dwell on it. Instead, you slid into your regular seat, pulling out your file to prepare for the mission. If Spencer wanted to play distant, you’d let him—for now. 

Emily settled into the seat across from you, her eyes scanning your face with curiosity. You tried to ignore her, keeping your focus on the pages in front of you, but her gaze burned into you. 

Minutes passed, the hum of the jet engine filling the silence, but Emily didn’t look away. Finally, you sighed, snapping the file shut as you met her stare. 

“Emily,” you said, your tone equal parts exasperated and pleading. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice low but insistent. 

“Nothing,” you replied too quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.” 

“Don’t give me that.” Emily leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You and Spencer haven’t looked at each other once since this morning. That’s not normal. Did something happen?” 

You hesitated, your lips pressing into a thin line as you considered how much to say. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the file. “He’s been… off. Avoiding me.” 

Emily tilted her head slightly, her expression softening. “Did you talk to him?” 

“I didn’t exactly get the chance,” you said with a bitter laugh, glancing toward the back of the jet where Spencer sat. He hadn’t looked up once, his focus seemingly glued to the pages in front of him. “And even if I did, I don’t know what I’d say.” 

Emily followed your gaze, her brows knitting together in thought. “He’s probably overthinking something,” she said, her tone conspiratorial but kind. “You know how he gets.” 

“Maybe,” you murmured, but doubt lingered in your voice. 

Emily reached across the table, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “Give him time. And if he doesn’t snap out of it soon, you’ll have to be the one to say something. He’s not exactly known for his social bravery, you know.” 

You managed a small smile at that, grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood. But as you glanced toward Spencer one last time, the knot in your chest only tightened. 

You stared out the window, watching the clouds stretch across the sky as the jet hummed steadily beneath you. The rhythmic sound was almost soothing, but it did little to calm the chaos of your thoughts.

You didn’t notice Derek slip into the seat next to you until his voice cut through your haze. “Hey, pretty girl.” He nudged your shoulder lightly, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You blinked, focusing on his familiar face. “Hi,” you smiled softly at your friend, grateful for the distraction, even if it was brief. 

Derek’s expression shifted from playful to serious. “I talked to him,” he said quietly. 

Your interest piqued immediately. You turned your head toward him, eyes searching his face for any hint of what had been said.

“What’d he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear. 

Derek leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced toward Spencer at the back of the jet. “Nothing,” he said simply, his tone flat. 

You frowned, your gaze following Derek’s to Spencer.

For the first time today, Spencer’s eyes met yours—just for a moment—but it felt like an eternity. He quickly looked away, like he was ashamed to have caught you looking. 

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” you pressed, feeling a pang of frustration twist in your stomach. 

“I mean, he said there’s nothing wrong,” Derek replied, his voice low. His eyes followed Spencer again, and you could tell he wasn’t buying it either. 

You shot Derek a skeptical look. “He can’t seriously think anyone would believe that.” Your voice was laced with disbelief. 

Before Derek could respond, Emily, who had been quietly listening from the seat in front of you, leaned back and added her voice to the conversation.

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of the conversation settle heavily on your shoulders. The uncertainty was overwhelming, but the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.

“It's okay,” you said quietly, offering Derek a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks for asking anyway.” You tried to sound convincing, but your heart wasn’t in it. You didn’t want to delve deeper into this conversation, not now.

Derek gave you a long look, as if he wanted to press the matter further, but instead, he nodded and leaned back in his seat. Emily, too, remained silent, though you could tell she wasn’t ready to drop it. 

The rest of the flight passed in a heavy, unspoken quiet. You kept your attention on your file, reading the same paragraph over and over without really processing any of it.

Hotch was all business as usual, his stern voice cutting through the quiet hum of the jet.

He glanced briefly at his team before issuing instructions, his usual calm demeanor masking the weight of the case ahead. 

“Derek and Emily, I want you to speak with the families of the victims,” Hotch said, his eyes meeting the two of them briefly before shifting toward Rossi. “Rossi, you’ll be with me at the morgue.” 

Your stomach sank at the mention of your assignment. You knew what was coming, and so did Spencer. You exchanged a fleeting glance—brief, but heavy.

Then came Hotch’s eyes, locking onto yours. “You two will handle the geographical profile,” he said, his voice leaving little room for argument. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the assignment. Hotch knew that you and Spencer worked well together, but today, it felt like he was trying to push you into a situation that neither of you were ready for. 

The jet seemed quieter now, as if everyone could sense the unease simmering beneath the surface.

You glanced at Spencer once more, but he was already looking down at his file again, his brows furrowed in concentration, his face a mask of indifference.

You wanted to say something, ask Spencer what was going on, but you didn’t know where to start.

 The jet had finally touched down, and after gathering their things, the team made their way to the station.

You followed behind, taking in the familiar sights of the small town where another case was waiting to be solved.

Once inside the conference room, the rest of the team split off to tackle their individual tasks.

Hotch, Derek, Emily, and Rossi were all busy making preparations, leaving just you and Spencer to tackle the geographical profile.

The police officers handed you a stack of maps—crumpled and worn—offering their best attempt at providing the information you needed. You nodded and murmured your thanks before walking back toward the table where Spencer was already settling in.

You placed the maps down with a soft thud, but before you could sit, you glanced at Spencer.

His eyes were fixed on the maps in front of him, his hands already sorting through them mechanically, as if the world around him didn’t exist. 

“Spence,” you said softly, almost hesitantly. You had hoped this moment wouldn’t come, that the silence would resolve itself, but you couldn’t keep pretending anymore. 

He barely looked up at the sound of his name, but you caught the brief flicker of his eyes—a fleeting glance that was almost too quick to notice. 

“Hm?” he responded absently, his focus still on the maps as his fingers traced over the inked lines of streets and neighborhoods. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, a quiet plea hanging in the air between you.

Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it was something else. Something outside of you that had put this strange distance between the two of you. 

Spencer’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for the briefest moment, you saw it—something in his gaze that made your chest tighten. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t frustration.

It was hurt.

Pain that you hadn’t expected to see in his eyes. 

He seemed to freeze for just a moment, and you felt your heart hammer in your chest, suddenly unsure of what to say next. 

He shook his head, his face hardening slightly, as if he was trying to pull himself back from whatever had just flickered in his eyes.

“Talk about what?” he asked, his tone a little colder than usual. His voice was quiet but firm—too firm, almost as if he were trying to put up a wall between you and him. 

You felt a lump form in your throat. "Did I—" 

Before you could finish, Spencer cut you off, his voice tight with something you couldn’t quite place. “We have to get started on this,” he said, his words sharp but careful. 

With a slow exhale, you nodded, though it didn’t come easily. "Right." You lowered your gaze, your fingers gripping the edges of the map in front of you as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

Spencer didn’t say anything more. Instead, he reached for a marker and started drawing a rough outline on one of the maps.

The usual warmth that he brought to these situations—his quiet intelligence, his willingness to collaborate—was nowhere to be found. 

As the moments stretched on, the weight of the silence became harder to ignore.

You both busied yourselves with the task at hand. Every time you glanced at him, Spencer’s face remained unreadable, his gaze focused solely on the maps.

The others trickled in later that night, the sound of the door opening followed by the rustle of bags and the smell of fast food wafting through the room.

Derek and Emily both carried bags filled with food, the scents of greasy burgers and fries a welcome distraction from the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the team. 

"Seems like it’s gonna be a long night," Rossi sighed, his voice deep with the exhaustion that had already begun to settle into his bones. He dropped down into one of the chairs around the conference table. 

You barely looked up, your stomach growling in protest. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the smell of food hit you.

Without a second thought, you grabbed one of the boxes of fries from Derek’s hand and sat down, your back against the cool metal of the chair as you dug into the food.

“Thanks,” you murmured around a mouthful, not looking up as you continued to eat. 

The others began settling in, the murmurs of conversation filling the room, but there was one sound that was noticeably absent—the sound of Spencer's voice.

It had been hours since the awkward exchange between you and him, and you hadn’t had a chance to talk since.

You barely noticed when Spencer walked past the table until he mumbled something under his breath, barely audible over the low hum of the team settling in. 

"I'm not hungry." 

You kept eating, trying to distract yourself, but your heart ached in a way you couldn’t explain.

You missed Spencer’s warmth,the way you’d work side by side, always in sync.

But now, there was nothing.

You had no idea what had happened—what had gone wrong. And that uncertainty gnawed at you, making your chest tighten every time you thought about it. 

You glanced up, watching as Spencer’s figure slipped quietly out of the room, his back to you as he moved toward the hallway.

Rossi, who had been watching the scene unfold, raised an eyebrow at the silent exchange.

Derek, who had been digging into his food, finally looked up at you. His face was usually so open, so easy to read, but right now, there was something in his expression that mirrored Emily’s. 

“Hey,” Derek said, his voice gentle but direct. “You alright?” 

You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice to answer. You were trying so hard to hold it together, to focus on the task at hand, but all you could feel was Spencer’s absence.

"Yeah," you finally murmured, forcing a small smile. "Just hungry."

The case was wrapped up by the next day after a grueling night of work, punctuated by greasy fast food and a few stolen naps here and there.

The sense of relief was palpable as the team boarded the jet for the flight back home. The usual hum of quiet conversation and rustling papers filled the cabin, but you didn’t participate.

Instead, you sank into one of the plush seats and fell asleep almost immediately, your exhaustion taking over the moment you closed your eyes. 

Spencer sat across the aisle, his book open in his lap, though his eyes weren’t scanning the pages.

Instead, they were fixed on you.

The rise and fall of your chest, the way your head tilted slightly to the side as you rested—he couldn’t help but watch. It was a habit he’d developed over the years, this quiet observation of you. But now, it was tinged with something heavier. 

He missed you. 

Usually, these flights home were his favorite part of the job. You’d either challenge him to a card game, always finding new ways to try and outwit him (and sometimes succeeding), or you’d sit beside him and attempt to read over his shoulder.

He could still hear your exasperated sighs whenever he turned the page too quickly, knowing you barely managed to finish the first paragraph before he’d already moved on.

He could only sit there, the book forgotten in his hands, as he replayed the words that had been haunting him since the case started. 

“I don’t like it.” 

He hadn’t meant to overhear the conversation between you and Derek, but he had.

The way Derek had said, almost teasingly, that Spencer would do anything for you—it had been the truth.

Spencer would do anything for you. He cared about you in ways that he couldn’t fully articulate, in ways that went beyond logic or reason. But it was your response that had cut through him like a knife. 

“I don’t like it.” 

Those four words had been replaying in his head, over and over again, like a broken record. At first, he tried to rationalize it.

Maybe you were just joking, or maybe he’d misunderstood the context. But no matter how he tried to spin it, the meaning stayed the same. 

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like him caring about you. 

The realization had been like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t meant to be a bother, hadn’t realized that his presence, his actions—his feelings—might be unwelcome.

It tore at him, the thought that his care might have been suffocating, that it might have pushed you away instead of bringing you closer. 

He closed his book with a soft thud, unable to focus on the words anymore. His gaze drifted back to you, still sleeping.

He wondered if you had any idea how much you meant to him. If you knew how much he valued every moment you spent together, every smile, every laugh. 

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe he’d cared too much, given too much of himself. And in doing so, he’d crossed some invisible line, made you feel something you couldn’t say aloud. 

Spencer sighed quietly, leaning back in his seat as he stared out the window. He wanted to talk to you, to ask what you’d meant, to understand.

But the fear of hearing the truth—that he was a burden, that you didn’t want his care—kept his words locked tightly inside. 

So, he sat in silence, watching you sleep from afar.

Emily’s gentle touch on your shoulder roused you from your nap. The hum of the jet engines had stopped, and as you blinked yourself awake, you realized that nearly everyone else had already left.

You grabbed your bag groggily, trailing after Emily as she led the way off the plane. 

Once back at the BAU, you headed to your desk to grab a few last-minute things before heading home. The bullpen was mostly empty now, the soft glow of desk lamps casting long shadows across the space.

But your steps faltered when you noticed Spencer still seated at his desk, his focus seemingly glued to a stack of papers in front of him. 

You hesitated, debating whether to say something. But you couldn’t stop yourself—it was instinctual, this pull to check on him, to make sure he was okay.

Because you cared about him. 

“You should go home, Spence,” you said softly, standing at your desk across from his. The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, and you winced, worried it might irritate him further. 

Spencer’s head jerked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before they darted back to the papers on his desk. “Still need to get some paperwork done,” he mumbled, his voice low and distant as he picked up his pen again. 

That was it. That response—cold, dismissive, and completely unlike him—pushed you to your breaking point. You couldn’t take it anymore, the distance, the tension, the ache of not knowing what you’d done to make him pull away. 

“Spencer, did I do something? Or did—” you started, your words tumbling out in a rush, driven by the desperate need for answers. 

His hand froze mid-sentence, the pen hovering above the page. Slowly, he set it down, his movements deliberate as he leaned back in his chair.

For the first time in what felt like days, he looked directly at you—really looked at you. 

His expression was a mix of weariness and pain, and it stopped you in your tracks. 

“Did you do something?” he repeated quietly, almost as if he couldn’t believe you’d asked the question. A bitter laugh escaped his lips, but there was no humor in it. “No, you didn’t do anything. Not really.” 

“Then why—” You gestured helplessly between the two of you, your frustration bubbling over. “Why are you acting like this? Like you don’t even want to be near me?” 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and he glanced away, staring down at his desk. 

“I don’t wanna seem like I care too much,” Spencer said, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and hurt.

You stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft hum of the neon light above you, its flicker almost mocking the distance now between you. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, your voice trembling slightly. 

Spencer stood abruptly, his gaze sharp as he grabbed his bag, avoiding your eyes. “Nothing,” he muttered, his tone flat.

“Hey, no,” you said, walking toward him, your steps firm despite the tightening in your chest.

“No, you don’t get to do this, Spencer.” You stood in front of him now, blocking his path, your heart racing as he glared down at you. “You can’t just shut me out and then expect me to move on like nothing happened.” 

He didn’t respond at first, but you could feel the tension rolling off him, his anger simmering beneath the surface.

You bit your lip hard, the pain sharp as you tried to keep your composure. Blood welled up, a bitter tang on your tongue, but it barely registered as you looked into his eyes, searching for something—anything—that would tell you where you stood. 

Spencer’s gaze flicked down to your lip, his eyes softening for a moment as if the sight of you hurting made him hurt too.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking in a slow breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, tinged with regret. 

“You said you don’t like it,” he murmured, his words hesitant. 

Your heart skipped a beat.You had no idea where this was going, but you felt the space between the two of you growing heavier with each passing second. You swallowed, your eyes flitting nervously across his face as you stepped closer to him. 

“Don’t like what?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid of pushing him further away with a raised tone. 

Spencer’s gaze fixed on you, his disappointment clear. “You don’t like that I would do anything for you,” he said, his voice breaking just slightly. 

The words struck you like a punch to the gut, and you took a step back. Memories of your conversation with Derek came flooding back—his words, the concern in his voice.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you barely registered Spencer’s disappointed stare. 

“I heard your conversation,” he added, his voice distant, wounded. 

“Did you hear all of it?” you asked, your eyes searching his, the confusion on your face undeniable. 

“What?” he muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

“The rest of what I said,” you clarified, your voice softening as you felt the distance between you begin to close.

You gave him a small, tender smile, one that barely reached your eyes. “I assume you didn’t hear what I said after that.” 

Spencer's shoulders slumped slightly, the tension draining from his body, but the disappointment remained. “I heard enough,” he replied. 

You sighed, your hand reaching out to gently touch his.

“I also told Derek that you care too much.” Spencer flinched at your words, as though they pained him, and you felt a flicker of guilt. But you weren’t done yet. “I’m not finished.” 

He looked at you, eyes wide with something close to fear, as if bracing for the words that might break him.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your emotions. “I said that I’m worried you endanger yourself for me. Look, Spence…” you hesitated, your throat tightening, “I don’t like making you worry. That’s why I said what I said. It scares me that you put yourself in danger. For me.” 

As your words lingered in the air, Spencer’s face softened, and his eyes flickered with a sudden realization.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, and for a moment, he looked almost fragile, as though the weight of everything had suddenly hit him. 

“I… I didn’t mean—” His words caught in his throat, and he stumbled over his apology. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood everything. I should’ve listened better. I shouldn’t have assumed…” His voice broke. “I'm sorry.I shouldn't have pushed you away like that. I care about you so much, and I… I just… I’m sorry.” 

The rawness of his apology struck you harder than you expected. You could feel the sincerity in every word.

But before you could say anything, the urge to hold him—comfort him—overwhelmed you. 

Without thinking, you stepped forward, your arms reaching around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, the warmth of his body grounding you, and for the first time all day, the chaos inside you started to settle. 

Spencer stood still for a moment, clearly surprised by the sudden closeness. But then he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

You could feel the rapid beating of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own. 

You closed your eyes, your voice soft but steady as you spoke into his neck, your words laced with emotion. “Spence… I care about you more than you’ll ever know,” you murmured, your hand gently stroking the back of his head as if to comfort him. “I don’t like being away from you. The thought of you putting yourself in danger for me… it’s just too much.” 

You felt Spencer's breath hitch against your skin, and he tightened his arms around you, as if trying to reassure himself that you were really there, that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“I know I should’ve said it better,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your words. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t care.” 

Spencer’s grip tightened. For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Finally, he pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your waist.

His eyes searching yours with a mixture of tenderness and uncertainty. “You mean everything to me, you know that? I just… I just don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know how to stop myself sometimes.” 

You smiled softly. “I know, Spence.” 

He nodded slowly, a faint but genuine smile tugging at his lips as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, but you shook your head. 

“Yes, you do,” you whispered back, holding him even tighter, as if reaffirming your place in each other's lives.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.1

Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine

Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it

Part 2 >> Masterlist

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.

Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

~~

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.

“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.

“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.

“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.

You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”

“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”

What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”

“My world?”

You nod again.

“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”

“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”

Logan chuckled at that.

“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”

“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”

“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”

“Oh, you're friends as well?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”

“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”

Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.

You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.

“Angel.” You whispered darkly.

“Warren?”

“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”

You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.

“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.

Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.

“Here.”

You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.

You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.

“Why have you folded it like that?”

Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”

“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”

He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”

“Why are we leaving?”

“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”

You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”

He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”

It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.

He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.

“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.

“El.” You smiled widely.

She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”

“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”

“That is why I was worried.”

She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.

The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.

“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”

You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”

“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”

“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.

“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”

“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”

“Well, duh-”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.

“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.

“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”

“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.

Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”

“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”

“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.

You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”

“Maybe you should let it play out.”

“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”

“All the more reason to."

He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.

"Elektra told you the plan?”

“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”

Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.

Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”

You waved him off. “It's fine.”

“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”

“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.

“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.

“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”

“But you are hurt.”

“Logan.”

“Y/N.”

Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.

“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.

“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”

You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”

The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.

“You can't fight.” Logan started.

Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”

“Go on then.” He called your bluff.

You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”

“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.

Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”

Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?

Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”

Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”

“Well... Maybe I do, too.”

God he was ruined.

You were literally amazing.

How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.

Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.

He loved you, by god, he did.

Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.

Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.

Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.

"Come with me." He begged.

"I'm sure I will." You winked.

"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.

"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.

He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.

He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.

Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.

.

.

Part 2

[harryslittlefreakk]

obsessed

summary: harry is your roommate, best friend … and crush 💃 he’s finally broken up with his girlfriend and you’re struggling to hide how you feel about him. loosely based on the song!!

warnings: none! fluffy fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst, mentions nudity

wordcount: 2.7k

a/n: i am a loud & proud olivia rodrigo stan sooo naturally i had to write something. it’s silly and cheesy and short! but i hope you enjoy!!

you can find my masterlist here and join my taglist here!! happy reading my loves 💖

“Guess who I saw today?”

“Who?” You didn’t even need to look up from your book to know Harry was about to throw himself down on the end of your bed, his coat and shoes still on. Every time you got home before him he’d bound into your room like a little labrador, too excited to see you to even drop his stuff down first.

“No, you have to guess.”

“Could’ve been anyone, H,” you told him, feigning reluctance as you closed your book and looked up at him. The second you heard his key rattling in the door you’d wait for the sound of your door bursting open, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life. But you’d never let him know that, so every day you’d pretend it was an annoyance to have him perched at your feet.

“Think of someone you really don’t like,” he persisted, a toothy grin nestled between his dimpled cheeks.

“Literally could be anyone.”

“Come on! Blonde hair, tall, pretty…”

Of fucking course. His stupid, evil, awful ex girlfriend. And naturally, the only way you could react to hearing about her was to reach over and shove him before crossing your arms over your chest. “Ow! What was that for?” Harry laughed, rubbing at his upper arm.

“I was having such a nice day. And then you have to come in and mention that.” It was massively childish, but you couldn’t help but feel violent every time you heard about her. She was fine for the most part, maybe a little too conceited for your taste, but she’d made Harry happy. But you’d watched from the outside as Harry went through relationships, and he always morphed into whatever version of himself he thought the girl would prefer. He stopped being your Harry, and your friendship would suffer for it. But you couldn’t say anything, could never treat his girlfriends with anything but a polite smile and quick conversation, unless you wanted to out yourself as a jealous little girl. And you definitely didn’t want to do that.

This time, however, the ability to hate her had been handed to you on a silver platter when she decided to go home with one of Harry’s friends on a night out. You were his shoulder to cry on, the one to make him smile again after days of moping around. So you had full permission to hate her, and you were relishing in it - as much as you could while still tiptoeing around Harry’s aching heart.

“She wants to meet for a coffee this week,” he told you, scrunching his eyes tight as he waited for another shove. When nothing came, he squinted over to see you rubbing at your temples. “Are you gonna?” you asked, brows furrowed as you imagined the two of them back together.

“Am I allowed?” Harry teased, turning round to lay on top of you, his face only inches from yours. “You’re a grown man, H. Couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to,” you told him, your voice void of any emotion.

“Dunno if it’s a good idea. She might find me too irresistible and then I’ll have to deal with that,” he grinned, not noticing the change in your face. You looked down as you felt your lip start to quiver, too proud to show how your heart sank. “I need to shower, H. Dinner after?” you asked, slipping out from under him and dragging your heavy limbs towards the door. He looked over at you with round, questioning eyes, only to be met by silence and a weak smile as you headed for the bathroom.

You barely got the door shut behind you before the tears came, hot and heavy drops rolling down your cheeks. You knew you couldn’t have Harry, but every minute spent with him had your heart breaking over and over again. Every little cuddle, every touch, lit you up with a fire that burned to the bones. But then you’d see the way he acts with a girlfriend, the way he loved someone, and all those moments you shared seemed silly and infantile. He was your best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

You sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as the sobs wracked your body. You’d tried so hard to push away the feelings, to convince yourself that you were just confused and overwhelmed. He’s a friend, he’s a friend, he’s a friend, echoing around your mind. But deep down, you knew that no one could ever compare to Harry. He was yours, the only one to ever steal a piece of your heart.

“Y/n? M’coming in.” You froze as Harry’s voice came from the other side of the door, clamping a hand over your mouth to hold the sobs in. “I’m naked,” you called out, scrambling to your feet and wiping away your tears with your sleeve. But he opened the door anyway, stopping in the doorway when he saw your tear-stained face. “Didn’t even turn the shower on yet,” he muttered, glancing over at it.

“Why’re you crying?”

“M’not,” you whispered, choking out a giant sob as you turned your face away from Harry, sinking down onto the edge of the bath.

“Quite clearly are. Move,” he ordered, swatting you away before reaching to turn on the taps.

“What are you-”

“If you’re sad, I’m sad. And I like having a bath when I’m sad,” Harry shrugged, turning around to grab one of your bath bombs.

“I was gonna shower, you can’t-”, between the sobs, your confusion and the need for Harry not to know why you were crying, you could barely string a sentence together.

And when Harry pulled off his t-shirt, you were even more lost for words, left with your mouth gaping and only air coming out. “Joining me?” he asked, tipping too much bubble bath into the steamy water - something you’d have to scold him for later.

“I’m not getting in with you,” you told him, once you’d finally got a grip on your brain.

“Just get under the bubbles. And you can close your eyes when I get in.”

“No way.” You hugged your arms over your chest, drawing your swollen bottom lip into your mouth as you watched a shirtless Harry mix the bubble bath into the water. The way his muscles flexed, the tattoos littered across his tanned, slender frame. His skin always looked perfect, not Barbie doll smooth but irresistibly soft. Your fingers took on a mind of their own, slowly reaching out to touch him before he turned around with a smug grin. “Fine, go away then while I have my nice relaxing bath.”

“I want a bath,” you whispered, barely audible over the running water splashing into the tub. “What was that, angel?” Harry grinned, moving his towel onto the toilet seat. “I want a bath,” you told him, louder now, a tiny smile dancing on your lips.

Harry grabbed a hold of one of your hands, tugging you closer to the bathtub. He turned you around before pulling your t-shirt over your head, leaving you in just your little pyjama shorts. Just the brush of his fingertips against your bare torso sent chills down your spine. “M’not looking. Tell me when you’re in,” Harry told you, dropping your t-shirt to his feet.

You pushed your pyjama shorts and panties down your legs, checking behind you to see if Harry really wasn’t watching. True to his word, he had his eyes scrunched tight and his hand clenched over them. You’d seen each other in bathing suits and underwear so many times before, but being naked in the same room as Harry felt beyond weird. You’d never been overly shy about your body, especially with someone who made you feel as pretty and as comfortable as Harry did, but this would add a whole new layer to your friendship - and you didn’t know if you’d survive it. Still, you sunk into the bathtub and pulled the mass of bubbles to your end, trying to keep your breasts under the water before you told Harry he can look. “It’s really hard to make bubbles stay put, H,” you told him, screwing up your face as you tried to hold them steady.

He was laughing as he pulled his trousers and socks off, great big guffaws tumbling out every time the bubbles tried to escape your grip. “Want me to turn the lights down a bit? Then it’s harder to see,” he shrugged, nodding towards the light switch. You nodded, grateful that he cared enough to make sure you were 100% comfortable. It was one of the things that first drew you to Harry, and definitely what you valued most about him. He was always so kind, always caring, so willing to put anyone’s needs above his own - and that’s why relationships always changed him.

“Close your eyes then,” he said, mockingly holding two hands in front of his bulge. You rolled your eyes, finally starting to lighten up as the hot water washed over you. When Harry reached out to swat at your nose, you closed your eyes tight. You felt him stepping into the bathtub after a minute, his long legs slotting down your left-hand side.

“Hi,” he smiled when you opened your eyes. “Gonna tell me what upset you now?”

“It’s really not a big deal,” you told him, your voice small.

“It is if it made you that upset,” Harry countered, placing a gentle hand on your calf, his thumb rubbing against the soft skin.

You paused for a moment, trying to think of what you wanted to say and how to say it. “It just- she doesn’t deserve you, H. Anyone who hurts you like that doesn’t deserve any of your time and respect.” Your eyes dropped to the water as you spoke, your body frozen. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but as soon as he did, you needed to say more. “You were really sad, Harry. It sucked for you and it sucked for me too because I don’t like seeing you like that. I’ll always be there for you, you know that, but I can’t just sit and wait for her to hurt you like that again. Not when you know she’s capable of it.”

You watched the smaller bubbles popping one by one by one, suddenly anxious in the silence that followed your speech. You hated going against Harry, putting your two cents into something that really didn’t concern you, but sometimes he needed to hear it.

“I know,” he replied finally. “But do you think that because you don’t like her?”

“Harry, no! I don’t like her because she did that to you.”

“You were never her biggest fan,” he shrugged, his brows knitted when you finally pulled your eyes up to meet his.

“She changed you, H. You were different with her, less you. Everything is so surface level with her, it’s looks and Instagram likes and who’s got trouble with who. There’s no substance, nothing deeper.”

Harry’s thumb halted as he shook his head, his jaw clenching slightly. “It doesn’t always have to be deeper,” he sighed, rubbing at his chin with his free hand.

“I know it’s not my place but you need someone who brings out the best in you, you need-”

A bitter laugh from Harry stopped you in your tracks, your mouth snapping closed as a chuckle slipped out of his. He met your questioning gaze with a tiny smirk. “She always used to say you were jealous of her.”

You could feel the tears collect on your bottom eyelashes again as he said it, the words stinging like barbed wire sinking into your skin. How could you even respond? “Harry-” was all you could manage before your mouth ran dry.

“I don’t wanna fight with you, y/n,” he told you, his voice soft as he reached out for your hand. “Come here,” he whispered, tugging at your fingertips. “I’m- we-” you started, gesturing between your bare bodies with your free hand, eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Doesn’t matter,” Harry said, motioning for you to turn around.

Somewhat reluctantly, you did, leaning back into his body until your back hit your chest. You were exposed in every sense, your chest sitting just above the waterline and your heart on your sleeve. Harry wrapped an arm around your torso, his delicate touch careful not to go anywhere it shouldn’t.

“Truth is I probably need someone like you. Only one to make me happy on a shitty day, only one who gives me any effort,” he murmured, his voice so low that if he wasn’t speaking directly into your ear, you wouldn’t have heard him. Your heart quickened as he spoke, your pulse pounding against your inner wrists. “I’m not- I don’t have anything that she-” you choked out.

“S’a good thing, no?” Harry asked, turning his head just slightly until his lips brushed tentatively against your earlobe. “No, Harry. You need more, you need-”

“You,” he finished for you. “Just say the word and I’m yours, angel.”

It was like someone had handed you everything you ever wanted on a silver platter, all you had to do was reach out and take it. But it wasn’t that easy. If anything went south, you risked losing Harry forever. You shuffled back out of his grip, turning to sit in front of him, perched on your knees. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about him seeing your body, your words willing themselves from your lips. “If anything went wrong Harry, I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, blinking to keep the tears at bay.

“What would go wrong? We know we get along, we have the same traits and the same values. We’re already doing life together,” he reached out a hand to cup your cheek as he spoke, his eyes laced with nothing but earnestness.

“I don’t want to be your consolation prize.”

“Never. Never ever, I swear. I thought about it for a while but it never really clicked until now.”

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Harry spoke, desperately needing to figure out if it was all a dream. The sensation of his touch, the sound of his voice, the gentle heat of the water – it all felt too real to be a dream. But a part of you couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was too perfect, too surreal to be true. You hesitated, unsure if you should dare to believe in the fairytale unfolding between the two of you.

As if he could see the cogs turning in your head, Harry dropped his hand from your cheek, entwining your fingers in yours instead. He squeezed lightly, the corners of his lips turning up into a little smile. "I'm here, y/n," he whispered. "This is real, promise." His words were a lifeline in the sea of doubt that threatened to consume you. Even if it was a dream, it was a dream you never wanted to wake up from.

“It’s all I ever wanted,” you confessed, allowing yourself to give into the fantasy for at least a little while. You fought the urge to search for the hidden cameras, check the date to make sure it wasn’t an April Fools prank. Harry was a goof, but you were a thousand percent sure he wouldn’t play with your feelings like that.

“Just say the word,” he repeated, his husky voice laced with sincerity and longing.

“I want this,” you whispered, clutching onto Harry’s hand as if you could fall off the Earth at any minute. His face erupted into a grin so cheesy that you couldn’t help but mirror it, eyes locked onto his as he closed the distance between the two of you.

Harry’s lips met yours softly, as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you melted into him, the air nearly knocked out of your lungs by the urgency and desire behind his soft movements. He pulled away after a minute, his forehead pressed to yours as he searched your eyes for any sign that you wanted to stop. Although all Harry was met with was a sparkle in your gaze, and a further few pecks landing on his lips. “Should’ve done this a long time ago,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands splaying across your back. “Should’ve done it before you got me naked,” you teased, succumbing once again to his kiss.

rrrr i really don’t know how i feel about this but i wanted to get something out

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7

[ennabear]

BAE. i absofrickenlutely NEED you to write something along the lines of decorating sevika with crimis boas and lights and whatever, maybe while she's sleeping idfk- and have her be like 😠 butt because reader is so cute and sev loves them sm, she can't hide her smile OR WHATEVER THE FUCK I SAID U KNOW WHAT I MEAN😭😭

i also made this for you. um. idk. it's not very. crimis sevika, but more crimis if it was sevikamas. imagine her trapped in an ornament ok plu shut ya face now bai luv u o masterful sevika writer

HAIII PLUTOBAE HEHEHE thank you for this idea, you cooked fr!!!! i’m featuring jinx in this because i’m a sucker for the found family trope and also her ass would LOVE to prank sevika LMAOOO 😭 AND THANKS FOR THE ORNAMENTS I’M HANGING THEM ON MY SEVIKAMAS TREE!!!!

one last thing, idk if they celebrate or even know about christmas in zaun so just pretend they do for a sec… thanks guys!!!

potential s2 spoilers under the cut!! read at your own risk!!!

sevika’s been stressed out of her mind. she’s not used to having this much power, but with silco gone it’s necessary. she’s also had no choice but to take jinx under her wing, which she’s not exactly thrilled about, especially now that jinx has taken her own little cub under her wing too. exhausted is an understatement. she’s got no clue how to lead a rebellion, and much less how to parent.

so you feel a little bit mean for what you’re about to do, but your wife deserves some giggles in these hard times, no matter how pissed she’ll initially be. jinx giggles as she tiptoes toward sevika’s slumped over form, her snores echoing through the room. you hope your wife enjoyed her sleep while she could.

jinx pokes her a few times to make sure she’s sound asleep, and if anything it only pushes sevika deeper into her slumber. you coo at your wife, she finally looks so relaxed after these past few weeks. jinx sticks her tongue out and pretends to gag at the affection you show to your wife, but she quickly switches back to excitement when you hand over a long rope of sparkly red tinsel.

she wastes no time in wrapping it around sevika and tying it to the chair with intricate knots. sevika doesn’t wake up as she gets restrained to the chair, not as you lift up her heavy new arm and wrap it in brightly colored lights, not even as jinx sticks a few shiny bows to her head. “ready?” she asks.

“ready.” you laugh, preparing yourself for the way sevika’s gonna bitch and moan when she wakes up. once jinx presses a few buttons, the loudest version of ‘get jinxed’ booms through the room, and you jump back in surprise. it’s so loud you swear the whole building shakes, and sevika’s awake in an instant with her arm rattling to the sound of the bass.

“turn it off, jinx!” she shouts, wiggling against her restraints in an attempt to cover her ears. “JINX?”

as soon as she catches sight of the blue-haired girl clutching her stomach in a fit of laughter, she looks like she’s about to smash the kid to pieces. “JINX!” she shouts over the music, “TURN IT OFF.”

jinx rushes over and shuts the music off before her own eardrums blow out, but quickly returns to giggling hysterically. “merry christmas, sevika. you’ve been jinxed!” she laughs. “you should’ve seen your face! i didn’t think you could look any angrier than you already do!”

“what the fuck is this!?” sevika shouts with that deep growl that you love in her voice. “what the fuck is wrong wi—” and then she sees you. you’re laughing nearly as hard as jinx, and she can’t help but gawk at you. your smile is her favorite thing in the world, and it’s the only thing that’s keeping her going lately, but how could you be so cruel?

taking advantage of sevika’s surprised, annoyed, and offended state, jinx ties a new string of white lights to the back of sevika’s chair and starts running around her in circles. “you’re in on this?” sevika asks you.

“well, yeah.” you admit, stepping closer to her. your wife gasps and blinks at you blankly. “how could you?”

“you were asleep,” jinx cuts in. “that’s what you get for falling asleep on the clock.” sevika sighs at this, closing her eyes to keep herself under control before she can spew insults at jinx. “i’m not ‘on the clock’ you brat. it’s early in the morning, and i wouldn’t be so tired if you knew how to clean up your own messes.”

you settle yourself on sevika’s lap, slinging your legs over her as she tries and fails to wrap you in her arms. “you look cute.” you say. “i don’t look cute. untie me.” she demands. you ignore her, instead picking up a few ornaments and hanging them from the little half-ponytail in her hair. jinx notices this and practically flies over, sticking a few snowflake shaped hair clips in sevika’s hair.

you can’t help but laugh at your wife, she looks exactly like a christmas tree. if trees could scowl and pout, that is. jinx joins you, stepping back to admire her work beside you. sevika’s lips twist into a flat line, her eyebrows so low they’re about to make contact with her eyes. it’s been a while since you’ve felt a true familial love, but this feels real and warm to you. you giggle even harder as a sudden love for your girls floods your heart, and sevika shakes her head at you in disapproval.

jinx shoves a mirror in sevika’s face, and this time her lips slightly twist up in the corners as she tries her hardest not to smile. she’s glowing with the amount of lights on her, and the amount of sparkly ornaments and clips hanging from her pisses her off even more. it’s ridiculous. and hilarious. and she loves you guys so much, no matter how unwilling she is to admit it.

“don’t smile…” you tease. “don’t you dare smile, sevika. don’t do it.” she shakes her head again, refusing to make eye contact with either of you and instead staring at the floor.

“i’m not… smiling.” she says, holding her lips as straight as she can. you sit yourself in her lap again, holding her close as she muffles her not-smile in the crook of your neck. “you love us.” you accuse. she sighs with a defeated giggle, a smile brighter than the lights wrapped around her body finally settling on her face. “i guess you’re right. get over here, you fucker.” she mumbles, gesturing with her head for jinx to join in the group hug.

jinx reluctantly walks over and wraps her arms around sevika as loosely as she can, although you know deep down that they both love each other more than they pretend to. you smile, pressing a kiss to sevika’s head and ruffling jinx’s bright blue hair.

“pull anything like this again, and my arm will chomp your heads off. both of you.” sevika threatens, although she means it in the most loving way possible. “that’s my arm.” jinx corrects, flicking her in the forehead. “and maybe next time you should try falling asleep in a bed.”

[stilessflannel]

idk if you write for luke but imagine sneaking into mr ds office and getting comfy because you like the idea of getting caught 👀

this has been going around my head ever since i received it and i finally did something about it 😗 also i got asked for a percy jackson smut and to do whatever i want with it (yk who you are sweet anon) so does this count? muah xx

sneaking into mr d’s office with luke castellan was something you thought you’d never do. but your boyfriend had a tendency to ignore or try break unspoken rules, and that led to luke interrupting your cabin’s lava wall training, promising them their counsellor would be back soon as he dragged you away.

“are you out of your mind?” you hiss at him, checking behind you every five seconds, “we’re going to get caught by mr d or chiron!”

luke only offered the signature grin all hermes kids owned and continued until he had locked the door behind you. there wasn't much to take in - big wooden desk, a map of half-blood hill on a wall, a dusty bookshelf, and the faint smell of diet coke. while you were taking in your surroundings, luke gained a keen interest in the desk with locked drawers down each side. it only took a few seconds before he had them unlocked and he pulled up a bag full of drachmas.

normally you'd never go around to the other side of the desk to try pry a drawer open for yourself. the idea wouldn't even cross your mind to stuff as many bags of gold into your pockets as you possibly could; but it was mr d and drachmas he wouldn't be spending anytime soon seeing as he was confined to the camps boundaries, anyone would do the same.

once you were finished luke's arms wrap around your waist and hoist you onto the surface of the desk, as warm lips attack your neck and big hands work their way up and under your orange shirt. a sigh escapes your lips and your fingers wrap into his raven hair. "hey there"

"hey" he mumbles back, muffled against your neck as he presses a last kiss behind your ear and pressing his forehead against yours. "twenty minutes 'till lunch."

"yeah... wanna go back to mine?" you offer your cabin, playing with the beads on his camp necklace. an unsure hum from him makes you look up at him. you can see the lightbulb light up behind his blue irises. he picks you up so your legs wrap around his hips and sits back into the padded desk chair

"i think we'll be just fine here, yeah?" he said, pressing a kiss into the side of your mouth and working his way back down your neck to make the marks he left earlier brighter. you try your hardest to focus on luke and the heavenly way his mouth feels on your skin, but your mind kept jumping to mr d and chiron finding their two best counsellors in this state. the thought of either of them terrified you to your wits end, but also sent a surge of thrill through your veins.

luke brings you back by digging his teeth into your collarbone and eliciting a groan from you, effectively shutting off your care for who could catch you. you grab his jaw and force him to look at you and you fold - his lovesick face with pupils blown wide from lust makes you crash your lips against his. its messy and rough and perfect for you two as hands explore each others bodies. you pull away to tug your shirt off your head and he follows suit, then you're back on each other again.

the sound fills with small moans, sighs, and gasps from both of you. you're too far gone to hear the footsteps approach the door, too caught up in the feeling of grinding against luke and hearing his faint groans to notice the voices behind the door and the rattling of the handle being twisted. it isn't until the door squeaks on its hinges that you turn to look over your shoulder and see mr d, his face as red as the wine he invented.

you could argue the two weeks wash up duty was worth it.

taglist: @izzieluvsdelusion @azure-drag0ness @vivi-anasan @percyssunlithope @amandareids @raysmayhem-72 // join the taglist here

[zyonsay]

Begrijp je me? JOOST KLEIN

Summary: You get home to discover an upset Joost.

Reader: Genderneutral

Warnings: Mention of struggling with mental health, sadness BUT theres comfort!

Now playing: 'Antwoord" by Joost Klein

AN: Hi guys! I had this idea a few days ago, never got around to writing it tho. Assignments are kicking my ass and im knee deep in a psychiosis. This one is relatively short (1k words) but more self indulgent! Love yall, take care <3

#Justice for Joost

A dark, heavy blanket was already draped over the city. Your job often required you to work late evenings, which was unfortunate but in your current situation not avoidable. Together with the support of a good friend, you had already sent out a few job applications some time ago, but nothing has come out of that yet.

Ik moest wachten, wachten, wachten op een antwoord

Your shoes quietly clacked on the wet sidewalk. The stars shone brightly but were also accompanied by heavy rain. Sighing tiredly, you pulled your hood further over your head, as if it would do anything against the water drops being catapulted right into your visage. Maybe it was time to take out your bike from the garage again.

Keek in de spiegel, zag de vraag en het antwoord

The water crawled up your jeans slowly but surely, having reached your calves already. The wet fabric slapping against your leg was a sensory nightmare, you were cursing every single inch you’d have to walk till arriving at your apartment building.

Ik moest wachten, wachten, wachten op een antwoord

With hurried steps you raced up the staircase. Number 2.06, Number 2.06. A content and slightly exhausted huff escaped you as the three black numbers finally graced your field of view.

Dans met de duivel, die heeft mij allang door

Your keys rattled as you locked the door. Usually there’d be a salt lamp lit on the coffee table in the living room, but this evening everything was dark and quiet. Not that it was usually loud, but it felt almost like the life was drained out of the apartment.

Maar we blijven grinden tot het einde

That was until you heard a quiet sniffling sound. You discarded your soaking wet shoes along with your equally wet socks at the front door. Like a bloodhound you tracked down where the source of the noises came from. But you barely had to walk out from the hallway to find a huddled up Joost on the sofa.

Ik woonde in Katwijk, dat was lijden

You quickly rushed to his side, slinging your arms around the heap of blankets, under which there was a man hidden. Somewhere. With gentle hands you stripped down the blankets, revealing your teary-eyed boyfriend. His eyes were reddened and glossed over with tears. As much as he tried hiding it, you picked up on the light quiver of his lips and the sniffling from his nose.

Ze willen niet kijken naar de feiten, spijtig

“Come here.” His arms slid around your torso, holding you close. You nestled your face into the mess of blonde hair atop his head. “I’m here.”, you pressed a sweet peck against his forehead, while holding him in your arms.

Maar ik blijf mezelf te allen tijde, begrijp je me?

Joost had been struggling with his mental health for a while now. From time to time, he’d get really bad. In moments like this he needed you the most. Your embrace for sure didn’t fix his problems, but they sure made it feel more conquerable. You knew how helpless one can feel, how you want to be isolated while craving love, how you hate everything but don’t want to.

Begrijp je me?

Joost pressed closer to you, tears now flowing again. You squeezed him, letting him hold onto you for as long as he needs to. “How about I make us some tea?”, you rubbed his back in smooth, slow motions. His hum was muffled by your own figure. Joost loosened his hold on you, his blue eyes searching yours. Your hands cupped his face while you left sweet kisses along his forehead, cheeks and finally the tip of his nose. “I’ll need to get those pants off first though.” He looked down at the soaked jeans and grimaced in a disgusted manner. A sigh of relief left you as you slipped the fabric off, leaving you in your underpants. Joost tangled his fingers in yours and you pull him towards the kitchen.

Begrijp je me?

The kettle whistled a distant song, while you once again wrapped Joost in an embrace against the counter. Two cups stood on the surface, both with a tea bag inside. One of them had one sugar cube, the other had two and a half.

Begrijp je me of begrijp je me niet ?

The blonds heart seemed to beat with yours, he inhaled your scent. Besides your usual cologne you smelled like… you. He huffed contently. The light on the kettle died down and you broke the hug to pour the steaming water into the cups. While your front was turned towards the cups, Joost had found the opportunity to cling to your back. Your warmth, your scent, everything about you was calming to him. Some people need etheric oils to feel at ease, but you were like his own substance. He was addicted to you, your emotions and your words.

Begrijp je me?

You turned around in his arms, smiling at him. God, how he loved that smile. “Wanna talk about it?” He shook his head, “I’m too exhausted. Maybe tomorrow.” He lazily smiled at you, inching closer to your face and then pressing a sweet, short peck to your lips.

Begrijp je me?

“Alright.”, you offered him another loving kiss. “Let’s just enjoy this tea and then head to bed, sounds like a plan?” He still had his signature smile all over his face, his dimples showing and his eyes lighting up again. He loves how you get him, how you understand him in every way.

Begrijp je me of begrijp je me niet?

[penkura]

Jingle Bells

Summary: Its your son's first Christmas and Law wishes certain people were here.

Note: I'm sorry for the angst. :') Law just leads to it when I write him.

“Law, we should put him in his crib.”

“Mm…I will in a bit.”

It makes you smile to watch Law just sit with and hold your son Rosi while he sleeps, especially with the lights from your Christmas tree brightening the room. Your eight-month-old doesn’t seem bothered by the lights, comfortably snoozing in Law’s arms with the jingle bells he got from a party earlier that day still clutched in his little hands. You had taken him to a party with all your friends and their own kids, little gift bags were given to them with homemade sugar cookies (Sanji’s doing), a small bit of money (Nami’s doing), and, unfortunately, a set of jingle bells, which you just knew was because of Luffy. Once Rosi got a hold of his set, and heard the sound they made just from him moving his little arms, he didn’t stop the whole time during the party, and neither did the other toddlers that got their sets in their hands. It sounded like a badly put together children’s choir performance, most of you were about to threaten Luffy with providing his kids with worse musical instruments one day.

Rosi continued shaking his jingle bells even once you had him in the car to drive home, the sound only stopping when he’d finally fallen asleep about halfway home, making you and Law sigh in relief. He’d been asleep ever since, but still holding onto those bells, you were planning to hide them from him for a while just for your sanity’s sake.

You try to stay quiet, motioning for Law to do the same as you attempt to remove the bells from your little boy, gently opening his hands and only making the bells rattle as soon as you’ve freed them and set them on the coffee table. He starts to stir and fuss just a bit, but Law quickly hushes and calms Rosi down, it’s like he never even started waking at all. You love to watch Law with him, sometimes he’s the only one who can calm Rosi down and while it can frustrate you, it makes you happy to watch them bond.

“I think he had fun today.”

“Yeah,” Law scoffs while you sit beside him, rolling his eyes a little as well, “He sure had fun ringing those bells in my ears the whole time I held him.”

You laugh a bit as Law grumbles about the bells, shaking your head and stroking your baby boy’s hair while he continues to sleep. In the same way you love to watch Law with him, Law feels the same with the two of you. He was never really sure about having kids of his own, but when you came into his life, Law realized he wanted all of the family life stuff that he’d missed out on when he was younger, and he wanted all of it with you.

Holidays were always difficult for Law, after losing his family and then Cora-san, he never wanted to celebrate after all of that even when he met Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo, then the rest of his friend group. They’d all try but never could convince him to join in the festivities, he’d always reject the ideas they came up with and went along just to not be alone during the Christmas season.

Then Shachi brought you along one day when everyone was hanging out and you immediately attached yourself to Law, trying to drag him along for whatever holiday plans they had, because you hated the idea of anyone being alone during that time. Law still doesn’t know why, but he went along with you, kept doing so through the whole season even with the thought in his mind that after the holidays were over you’d disappear back into your shared job with Shachi, but the new year came and went, and you continued to hang around all of them, especially Law.  It led to you asking him out and his agreeing, which led even further to your marriage and now your son Rosi being in your lives, all in the matter of three years.

With this year being Rosi’s first Christmas, even though the eight-month-old doesn’t get it, Law hopes he’s enjoying himself, but he wishes his family and Cora-san were here for it. He knows his mother would be doing every to make this the best first Christmas for Rosi, his father would probably be telling stories about past Christmases, Lami would absolutely want to take her nephew to all the Christmas events around, and even Cora-san would be working to make this holiday the best for your son.

It's still hard for him, but you and Rosi are making things easier, better for Law.

“Law? Are you okay?”

You’re able to tell when Law starts to get lost in his head, in the thoughts of what’s missing, you try to bring him back to the here and now when it happens, so you don’t lose him to those worries and the pain that still lingers after so long. You’ve noticed that just having your son has helped with it too, it seems like Law gets lost to those thoughts much less often now.

But with the distant look he had before you said his name, you knew it was happening again, even when he shrugs and looks back to little Rosi starting to wake and rub his eyes with his little hands.

“…I just miss my family…”

“Oh, Law…”

“I wish they were here…”

“I know, my love.”

“All of them,” Law takes a shaky breath, forcing back whatever tears try to slip out, while you rest your hand on and stroke his cheek, listening to him, “My parents and Lami…and Cora-san…They would have loved you both…”

“I know they’re all so proud of you, Law,” you lean over and kiss his cheek, before taking Rosi from him as your son coos and giggles at you, “They’d be so happy to see that you’re happy, to know you and Rosi are well, and I’m sure they’d want you to be enjoying his first Christmas.”

Law knows you’re right, watching you start to talk to and smile at Rosi, making him smile in return. He’s told you everything about his family, you’ve been so understanding and loving ever since he first told you the story, sometimes he wonders how much you told your parents since they’re always so nice when you go to their house, but he also thinks it’s just because they actually like him. He doesn’t mind going to see them, more recently your mom wants to give all her attention to Rosi and your dad takes to trying to connect with Law more, he really enjoys it.

“Hey,” looking up at Law, you give him a smile when Rosi starts to reach for him, needs “Let’s go see your parents tomorrow, after we’ve opened gifts.”

“Yeah? You want to?”

Nodding, Law sets a hand on Rosi’s head before leaning over to kiss his forehead and do the same to you.

“Yeah. It’ll be good to spend the day with family.”

Nothing makes you happier at that moment than to hear that from Law, and you agree that it would be a good idea, so long as you can make Rosi leave the jingle bells at home. You’re not sure your parents would like to hear that sound all day.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

[wip!] the art & science of parenting || jay park

update: this fic's been posted!! click here to read!

a/n: hellaur everyoneeee here's a lil summary & drabble into another wip i'm working on rn,,,i had this idea in the back of my head for SO incredibly long (im talking since 2021 pls) and decided to finally go for it :') so here's a lil peek for the time being to prove i'm still alive heh. i hope you guys like this concept,,,idk why but i really envisioned jay in this trope maybe because i plan on making it very fun & lighthearted but mixed in with some serious & angsty tones...we shall seeeee....you know i love my college!aus and e2l!aus heheh anyways saur sorry im yapping now! lmk what you think & if you want to be tagged !!

genre: jay x female!reader, fluff, comedy, college!au, enemies to lovers!au, parenting!au (parenting a robot baby LMAO), sum angst maybe, both reader & jay are smartasses who don't know how to communicate and confront their feelings , also a bit of photographer!jay :')

summary: The Art & Science of Parenting 101 (PSY1009) – In this interactive course, students will explore the psychological, social, and biological foundations of parenthood. Through a mix of theory and hands-on practice, you'll master the art of raising a simulated baby—aka the 'robot child.' Late-night feedings, tantrum taming, and crisis control are all part of the deal. What you didn’t expect to be part of the deal? Getting paired with Jay Park—the last person you’d trust to raise, well, anything. You’re pretty sure he couldn’t even take care of a pet rock. Now, you’re stuck co-parenting this robot baby together for 40% of your final grade.  Warning: Sleep deprivation is guaranteed. And maybe, just maybe, some unexpected feelings for your disaster of a partner. Good luck!

longer drabble under cut! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

"Y/N and Jay."  

Wait. What?  

Your head snaps up so fast it's a miracle it didn't pop off your neck and roll away.  

You blink. You must have misheard.  

"Y/N and Jay," Professor Kim repeats as if she could read your confused expression, voice too nonchalant for the life-wrecking news she's about to deliver: "You two are partners."  

The words hit you like a bus. No, not even. The words hit you like a bus driven by a T-Rex that flips over, crashes into a building, and explodes into a million ashy pieces. And there you are—standing right in the middle of the wreckage, somehow still alive to suffer through every second of it—while Jay, smug as ever, whips around in his seat to face you.  

And of course, there it is: that look of his that screams 'This is going to be so much fun for me, and so much pain for you.' 

"Guess we're parents now, Y/N!" Jay chimes, his voice dripping with so much sarcastic enthusiasm you swear he just got handed an Oscar for Most Annoying Human. If that tone were a substance, you'd bottle it up and use it as insect repellent. On him. Repeatedly.  

You blink at him, you're sure—you're praying—this has to be some elaborate prank. Maybe Jay bribed Professor Kim with his rare attempt at turning in an assignment on time just to mess with you. Or maybe the universe just hates you and this is your karma for stealing your roommate's last ramen packet that one time a year ago.  

But no, Professor Kim keeps rattling off other pairs like it's business as usual, as if your entire academic career and sanity isn't currently being flushed down a metaphorical toilet, while you sit there, paralyzed, your brain rapidly melting into a useless puddle from the sheer thought of being paired with him.  

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Jay teases as he leans over the back of his chair towards you. "You don't want to play house with me?"  

You narrow your eyes at him, mentally wielding your imaginary bug spray like it's a holy weapon. "I don’t," you reply flatly. "In fact, I’d rather perform open-heart surgery on myself with a plastic spoon than co-parent with you." 

Jay’s eyes light up as his hand goes to his heart. "Aw, you really know how to make a guy feel special. This is why I like our little relationship, you know?" 

"Relationship?" You scoff loud enough to make the people sitting three rows behind you to glance in your direction. "The only thing we have in common is a shared oxygen supply." 

"See, that’s the spirit," he says, turning back to face the front like he didn't just ruin your life. And somehow, that pisses you off even more. Is it his voice? His stupidly perfect hair? The fact that he breathes in your general direction? At this point, he could literally sneeze, and it would still feel like a personal attack.

Is it too late to switch majors? Or schools? Maybe even countries? Surely, restarting your entire college career as a super senior would be better than spending the next six weeks parenting with Jay. Jay Park, who has probably never held anything more fragile than a Red Solo Cup.  

Jay Park, who is just sitting there, all calm and collected, clearly loving every second of your misery.  

While you're frozen in pure, unadulterated horror.  

Your grade? Plummeting as we speak.  Your robot baby? Probably going to need therapy by day two.  And you?  

You're screwed. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

decided to go for a longer sneak peek than usual bc im very excited about this one heh :) i also changed up my title image formatting..trying out smth new !!!

lmk if you want to be tagged!

<3, addie

[nanamineedstherapy]

Help! I'm a Woman & I got my two Male Boyfriends Pregnant

Summary: You got your boyfriends Gojo Satoru & Ryomen Sukuna Preganat; now they are spirling, thinking you are going to leave them. Send jesus!

Based on this.

The day started normal enough. Coffee brewed. Cursed spirits got obliterated. You avoided Gojo's pranks and Nanami’s disapproving stares. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Absolutely nothing.

"EXPLAIN," Sukuna growled, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger, his crimson eyes flaring with murderous intensity. "HOW THIS HAPPENED."

Beside him, Gojo sat slumped on the couch, his head in his hands. For once, his usual smirk was nowhere to be seen. “She broke me,” he muttered, his voice muffled and full of existential despair.

You blinked, your hands raised defensively as you tried to process the sheer absurdity of what was happening. “Okay, let’s—let’s all calm down and start from the beginning. What exactly—”

“WE’RE PREGNANT!” Sukuna bellowed, his voice rattling the windows.

Your brain short-circuited. “What?”

“Both of us,” Gojo mumbled, finally lifting his head to glare at you with his piercing blue eyes. “We’re both pregnant. With your cursed energy, apparently.”

You stared at them, your jaw hanging open as your brain desperately tried to make sense of the words coming out of their mouths.

“Wait,” you said slowly, pointing at each of them. “You’re pregnant. And you’re pregnant. And… I’m the father?”

“Yes!” they both shouted in unison.

Gojo flopped back against the couch, throwing an arm over his face dramatically. “I can’t believe this. I’ve never been abandoned before. This is new for me.”

“Abandoned?” you snapped, your bewilderment turning to irritation. “I’m literally right here! No one’s abandoning anyone!”

Sukuna’s glare could’ve melted steel. “You better not be abandoning us. Do you have any idea what this is like? I’m a goddamn king, and now I’m carrying twins! Twins!”

You blinked again. “Twins?”

“Yeah, apparently cursed pregnancies are extra efficient,” Gojo muttered, rubbing his temples. “I’ve got triplets. Freaking triplets.”

Your knees nearly gave out. “Oh my god.”

“Oh your god, indeed,” Sukuna snarled, his pacing becoming more frantic. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve puked today? I’m the King of Curses, not the King of Ginger Ale!”

Gojo groaned dramatically, throwing himself across the couch. “And my ankles are swollen! I didn’t even know I had ankles that could swell!”

You stood there, frozen, as the two most powerful men you knew devolved into chaos before your eyes. Sukuna ranted about hormonal imbalances and cravings for spicy tuna rolls at three in the morning, while Gojo moaned about needing custom maternity uniforms for missions.

“Okay, okay!” you finally shouted, throwing up your hands. “Let’s take a step back and breathe for a second!”

Sukuna whirled on you, his crimson eyes blazing. “You breathe! I can’t breathe because your cursed energy apparently rewired my insides to incubate life!”

“That’s not even scientifically possible!” you argued, gesturing wildly.

Gojo raised a hand from the couch, his voice weak. “Apparently, science has no place in cursed pregnancies.”

“Obviously!” Sukuna snapped.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Okay, look. I don’t know how this happened, but I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

Gojo perked up slightly, peeking at you from under his arm. “So, you’re saying you’re going to stick around? You’re not gonna leave us to fend for ourselves?”

“Of course not!” you said, exasperated. “Why would I abandon you?”

Sukuna snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because that’s what all the terrible stories say. The cursed sorcerer fathers always leave. And yet, here I am, trying to keep it together while I grow two heads and three hearts inside me!”

“What?!” you shrieked.

“Apparently, cursed pregnancies come with… add-ons,” Gojo said, waving his hand vaguely. “It’s fine. We’ll manage. Just… don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t tell anyone?!” you repeated, your voice climbing several octaves. “How am I supposed to explain why Sukuna is eating pickles and peanut butter out of the jar at 2 a.m.?”

“I’m literally creating life, you peasant!” Sukuna growled.

“And what about you?” you snapped at Gojo. “You’ve been crying for two hours! What even is that?”

Gojo sniffled, his bottom lip trembling. “I just feel so much right now, okay?”

You stared at them, completely overwhelmed, as the reality of the situation sank in. Two of the most powerful sorcerers in existence were pregnant. With your cursed energy. And somehow, it was your job to keep them alive and sane.

“Fine,” you said, throwing your hands up. “I’ll get the pickles and the peanut butter. And maybe a sedative for myself while I’m at it.”

“Don’t forget the chocolate!” Gojo called after you as you stormed out of the room.

“And ginger tea!” Sukuna shouted. “Or so help me, I’ll kill you!”

You groaned, your footsteps echoing down the hall. This was your life now.

A/N: Want more? I can give you more if you ask nicely (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)👌 I will mark this series completed for now until I get any more inspo or ideas (feel free to send yours too). Please comment; it fuels my cheos ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ Who would you like to get pregnant next?

[injvns]

if words were flowers - zhong chenle

wc: 478

notes: based off the title of the curtis harding song :P enjoy!!!

if words were flowers, chenle would give you them all.

you don't know how long it's been since he opened his mouth, but it's been quite a bit since he shut it. 

he started off showing you clips of the latest golden state warriors game, raving about steph curry, then it went to how basketball has been going for him personally, to how if he had his own team he'd make daegal the mascot, and now he's planning a picnic date with you and daegal.

"do you think we could bring those chocolates you like or would that be too risky?" chenle's got his notes app open, writing down his groundbreaking picnic ideas, "ooh! or maybe i can get the macarons from the place in town instead!"

he looks so proud of himself as he backspaces to replace the words 'chocolate maybe??' with 'macarons from that one place.'

you can't help but smile at his excitement, it amazes you how chenle never lacks the imagination to keep endless conversations. words flow out of him like petals in the wind.

he hasn't stopped rattling off ideas, you honestly think his brain runs at least 20 miles faster than his mouth can keep up with. you also think it might be time to finally cut him off.

"babe, we can have a picnic whenever we want, slow down." you reach out to grab his phone from his hands, "figuring out all the details doesn't need to be done today."

he turns to you in sync with the taking of his phone, "but i was on such a roll.."

"and i'm sure you can get your groove back whenever," you put his phone on the table beside the couch before quickly turning back to him, "your thoughts are kind of endless, lele."

he scoffs, "you know you love my voice, don't even try to deny it." the sentence ends with an overly dramatic eye roll.

"i do love your voice, but i also hate you so they cancel each other out." you shrug nonchalantly as you say it, though your grin is anything but.

"then i guess i just have to talk so much that it overpowers the hate." he copies you, shrugging casually, but eyes smiling brightly.

"i guess you do," your head falls onto his shoulder, a content sigh leaving your lips.

chenle has never been one to stop talking around you, or at all. it's like his brain is running at full speed while his mouth is on autopilot, and today is no different. you can feel the vibrations of his voice as he talks, head rested where his neck meets his shoulders. it's relaxing, lulling you into a sleepy daze, but you'd rather die than give up listening to the soothing tones of chenle's voice.

if words were flowers, you'd cherish every single blossom chenle gifted you.

[roguelov]

Okay, an idea that's been rattling my brain for awhile, BUT IMAGINE;

Morpheus has been thinking about asking you to marry him and when he finally decides he's going to do it, he sets up a whole romantic day and things go so well THAT HE COMPLETELY FORGETS TO ASK!

Que to like 2-3 months later, Morpheus ask you something about the wedding and you're so confused because "What wedding?" That's when he realizes that he completely forgot to ask and he just starts ranting to himself mostly while you just sit there listening then you finally interrupt him to say "I would love to marry you".

HE WOULD HE WOULD SO DO THAT

Morpheus slid up behind you, pressing his lips into your temple. You let out a gentle hum then smiled at him, “Well, hello to you.”

Morpheus’s eyes softened. “Hello.”

You spun around and threw your arms over his neck. “And what brings you here?”

He wrapped his arms around you. “A bit of business.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I wanted to get started on wedding preparations.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry did you just say … wedding?”

Morpheus tensed up. Why were you confused? “Yes, our wedding … did you have something else in mind for our union?”

You pulled away from him, now utterly baffled. “Morpheus, you - you never proposed.”

Morpheus almost felt a bit angry. He did. He planned such a wondrous day a few months prior. He meticulously arranged all the details from the dinner down to petals on the flowers he created for you. He brought you to a part of the Dreaming then -

Oh. Oh no.

Morpheus’s eyes flickered down to the silver band on his hand. A ring he wore to show his love to you, a ring that matched yours. However, his eyes darted to your hand finding it empty.

Hot embarrassment washed over him. And frankly, you had never seen him so flustered. He glanced away from you. A tint of red poured into his cheeks as he tried to take slow even breaths.

“Morpheus?” You stepped forward. You cupped his face bringing his attention back onto you. “Talk to me.”

He sighed heavily. He placed his hands onto of yours, holding onto your wrists. “Apologies my dear, it seemed I got ahead of myself … or forgotten in my daze.”

You cocked your head.

“Do you remember a few months ago when I planned a day for us?”

Your eyes sparkled at the memory. “How could I forget?”

He smiled - one of those small rare smile. “Yes, well, in all my planning I forgot one thing … I wanted to propose.”

Your breath hitched.

“Forgive me, I was -“

“Yes.”

Morpheus blinked. “Pardon?”

“Yes, I want to marry you.”

Morpheus forced himself out of his stupor. “I - I did not -“

“You don’t have to do anything. You asked and I’m giving you an answer … although I suppose you never outright asked but it doesn’t matter,” you chuckled.

Morpheus shook his head, hiding his smile. He stepped out of your grasp then slowly knelt down before you. “You may not need to hear it, but I wish to speak it.”

He stretched out his palm and with a swirl of sand a ring box appeared. He opened the box revealing a silver band, a ring forged from starlight. You gasped.

“My dear, would I have the honor of calling you mine forever? Will you marry me?” He spoke so softly yet his usual calm tone was laced with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes. “Of course, you idiot.”

Morpheus let out a small laugh. He slipped the ring on your finger. You immediately pulled him up to his feet then kissed him.

Pulling away, you laughed while happy tears streamed down your cheeks. Morpheus only smiled wiping them away. “Ok, now, we can start planning for a wedding,” you joked.

[stxrbxrn]

claws and kisses …

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader tw: none, just fluffy word count: 1.5k ( give or take ) a/n: i have watched and rewatched deadpool & wolverine like 4 times. i love my boys ( but mostly logan )

you sighed contentedly as you nestled deeper into logan's warm embrace. the two of you were lounging on the worn leather couch in his cabin, a crackling fire casting a cozy glow over the rustic living room. outside, a gentle snow was falling, blanketing the wilderness surrounding the remote hideaway in pristine white.

it had been logan's idea to get away for the weekend, to escape the chaos of the x-mansion and have some uninterrupted time together. you'd jumped at the chance for a romantic getaway with the gruff but lovable mutant who had stolen your heart.

logan's strong arms were wrapped securely around you as you leaned back against his broad chest. one of his hands was lazily tracing patterns on your arm while the other cradled a bottle of beer. you held a steaming mug of hot cocoa, savoring the rich chocolatey aroma.

"this is nice," you murmured, tilting your head back to look up at logan. his rugged features were softened in the firelight, a rare contentment evident in his warm hazel eyes.

"mmm," he agreed, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "should've done this sooner."

you nodded in agreement, thinking back on how long it had taken the two of you to admit your feelings for each other. logan had been reluctant to pursue a relationship at first, worried about the dangers that came with his lifestyle. but you'd worn down his defenses, showing him that you could handle yourself and that the connection between you was worth taking a chance on.

a sudden gust of wind rattled the cabin windows, making you shiver slightly despite the cozy warmth inside. logan's arms tightened around you protectively.

"cold, darlin'?" he asked, a note of concern in his gruff voice.

you shook your head. "no, i'm perfect right here."

logan's chest rumbled with a low chuckle. he set his beer bottle down on the side table and brought his now-free hand up to gently stroke your hair. the tender gesture made your heart swell with affection.

you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of logan's fingers running through your locks. he was always so careful with you, tempering his incredible strength to show a gentleness that few got to witness.

a stray strand of hair fell across your face, tickling your nose. before you could brush it away, logan's hand was there, calloused fingertips delicately sweeping the errant strands back.

you blinked your eyes open, gazing up at him with a soft smile. "my hero," you teased lightly.

logan rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but you caught the pleased glint in them. "can't have anything obstructing that pretty face of yours," he rumbled.

a warm blush spread across your cheeks at the compliment. even after months together, logan still had the ability to make you feel giddy with just a few gruff words of affection.

you set your cocoa mug down and shifted in logan's arms, turning to face him. reaching up, you traced the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the scratch of stubble beneath your fingertips. logan's eyes fluttered closed at your touch, a contented sigh escaping him.

"i love seeing you like this," you murmured. "so relaxed, guard down."

logan's eyes opened, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your breath catch. "only with you, darlin'," he said softly.

your heart swelled at his words. you knew how rare it was for the battle-hardened wolverine to let anyone past his gruff exterior. the fact that he trusted you enough to be vulnerable meant everything.

unable to resist any longer, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a tender kiss. logan responded immediately, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. you melted into him, reveling in the feeling of safety and belonging you always felt in his arms.

when you finally parted for air, logan rested his forehead against yours. "what did i do to deserve you?" he murmured, voice husky with emotion.

you smiled, running your fingers through his wild hair. "you're you," you said simply. "that's more than enough."

logan's arms tightened around you, pulling you more firmly against his broad chest. you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his masculine scent of leather, pine, and bourbon

for a long while, the two of you simply held each other, basking in the intimacy of the moment. the crackling of the fire and the soft whisper of snow against the windows were the only sounds breaking the peaceful quiet.

eventually, logan shifted slightly, prompting you to lift your head and meet his gaze questioningly.

"your hair's a mess," he said with a fond smirk, reaching up to smooth down your tousled locks.

you laughed softly. "i wonder whose fault that is?"

logan's smirk widened as he continued to run his fingers through your hair, gently working out any tangles. his touch was so tender, such a contrast to the deadly weapons normally concealed beneath his skin.

you hummed in contentment, practically purring under his ministrations. logan chuckled lowly.

"if i'd known playing with your hair would make you this happy, i'd have done it much sooner," he teased.

you opened your eyes, not having realized you'd closed them. "mmm, well now you know for next time," you said with a cheeky grin.

logan's expression softened, his hazel eyes warm with affection. "there's gonna be a lot of next times, darlin'," he said.

your breath caught at the implications of his words. logan wasn't one for flowery declarations or grand gestures, but in his own way, he was promising you a future together.

"i like the sound of that," you whispered, voice thick with emotion.

logan's hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. you leaned into his touch, overcome with love for this complex, incredible man.

a myriad of emotions flickered across logan's face - vulnerability, hope, and a fierce protectiveness that made your heart race. then he was pulling you close, claiming your lips in a kiss that left you breathless.

when you parted, logan rested his forehead against yours once more. "i love you," he whispered roughly. "more than i ever thought possible."

tears of joy pricked at your eyes. logan didn't say those words often, making them all the more precious when he did.

"i love you too," you replied, pouring all of your emotion into those four simple words. "so much."

logan's answering smile was radiant, chasing away the last lingering shadows in his eyes. in that moment, you knew without a doubt that no matter what challenges lay ahead, the two of you would face them together.

as if to seal that unspoken promise, logan leaned in for another kiss. this one was slower, deeper, filled with all the words left unsaid between you. you wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself as close to him as possible.

a sudden gust of wind caused the fire to flare, sending shadows dancing across the walls of the cabin. but wrapped in each other's arms, lost in the taste and feel of one another, you and logan were oblivious to anything beyond your own little world.

when you finally came up for air, you were both breathing heavily. logan's pupils were dilated, a look of hunger in his eyes that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. but there was tenderness there too, a depth of emotion that never failed to take your breath away.

"what do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable?" logan growled, voice low and husky.

you bit your lip, pretending to consider. "i don't know... i'm pretty comfy right here," you teased.

logan's eyes narrowed playfully. "that so?"

before you could react, he was standing, scooping you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. you let out a surprised squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"logan!" you laughed as he carried you towards the bedroom.

he smirked down at you, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "still comfy?"

you nodded, nestling closer to his broad chest. "always, when i'm with you."

logan's expression softened at your words. he paused in the doorway of the bedroom, gazing down at you with such love and tenderness that it made your heart ache.

"i'm the luckiest man alive," he murmured, pushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

you leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips. "we're both lucky," you whispered against his mouth.

logan smiled - a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. then he was carrying you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you.

as logan laid you gently on the bed, gazing down at you with a mixture of hunger and adoration, you sent up a silent prayer of thanks. for the moment, this man, this love that you'd found against all odds.

whatever the future held, you knew that as long as you had logan by your side, you could face anything.

[reaping-the-benefits]

hi! (dinner party anon here)

your medic reader is always so, so delicious i feel like i’m getting spoiled with a Michelin star meal. you mentioned wanting to talk about how reader met met price? would you please, pretty please tell us what your ideas are?

it's the middle of the night, and I should be asleep. But the idea will rattle around in my head until I finally get it down. So forgive any grammatical errors.

content warning: MDNI suggestive content, a small age gap

So, what I'm thinking is that reader is a couple years younger than Price. Like five to six years younger at the max. which might not matter in the story, but it matters in my head.

I think you and Price had been vaguely aware of each other for longer than you can pin down. You joined later in Price's career, and had seen each other in passing. Once you had tended to a minor wound of his, but he had been in and out of the med bay without much conversation.

You two officially meet when he's a Lieutenant. He'd ended up having to drag two recruits to the med bay, hurt during training. Nothing you hadn't seen before, and you had to snap at them more than once to stop squirming while you attempted to stitch them back together.

Price was immediately enamored by your spitfire attitude, and made an effort to come back to you. He wasn't willingly putting himself into harms way, but maybe he was catching a few more stray hits during training than normal. Not that he'd admit that.

You, on the other hand, were far more willing to admit that having him in your office was beginning to piss you off. I mean, come on! How did he become a Lieutenant while being this reckless with himself? It's ridiculous, and you end up snapping at him on more than one occasion.

It's during one of these rants that Price grabs you by the shoulders and kisses you. Maybe not the most suave, but he had been young and seeing you all fired up had him hard in his pants.

You like to joke that it had been the most reckless thing he ever did. Price would argue that the most reckless thing he did was have you blow him in your office. Agree to disagree, because you both know that specific blowjob was the hardest he's ever come and he had practically dragged you back to barracks to have the most mind-blowing sex in your life.

You started dating shortly after that.

I think, after he got promoted to Captain, you both bought a little house together. Some place to call home, to fill with your shared life.

And shortly before the task force was formed, you got married. It hadn't been some elaborate affair, just a run down to the courthouse. You both knew something was brewing, events that would keep you both far too busy for a proper wedding. But you were fine with it either way.

Ghost was absolutely your witness. It's the only reason he was willing to make that stupid bet with Soap and Gaz.

[whore4abby]

ooo i always have so many ideas but then my mind just goes blank lol

maybe abby and the reader are at a family dinner at either abby or the readers like aunts house idk and they sneak off to a bathroom/somewhere more private to make out all messy but then the reader stops abby before anything else happens to tease her and get her all worked up??

sorry if that’s horrible 😭

-🎀

home for the holidays; abby anderson

i literally had so much fun with this aaaaaaa thank u so much for this request <3

warnings; smut - dry humping, pussy slapping, fingering, abby covering readers mouth, reader sucking abby’s fingers

wc; 1.8k…..i got very carried away hehe

you’ve always loved spending christmas with abby’s family you always have such a fun time even if it was a little hectic and frenzied at times. most of the afternoon was spent making small talk with the rest of abby’s family which abby herself was in the kitchen helping her dad make dinner.

you hung out with her siblings for a little while and played all of abby’s little nieces and nephews until you got a little disinterested and all you wanted was to just see your girl again.

you wander into the kitchen and see her stood at the island preparing ingredients for dinner. abby is doing her best to keep calm as she slices vegetables but you can tell she’s getting a little agitated with being around so many people in such a small space. you notice her hand gripping the knife harshly, freckled knuckles turning white and her jaw tightly clenched.

she’s so focused on chopping up the vegetables that she doesn’t hear you behind her.she suddenly feels a pair of warm hands on her shoulders. she nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels your touch, and she slowly turns around to face you, suddenly feeling more at ease at close proximity. "hi, my love..."

she leans into you for some much-needed comfort, leaning her head against your shoulder and you feel tension in her body beginning to dissipate. you can feel her breathing slowly becoming more even and regular as she relaxes against you.

the last couple days have been spent over at her dad’s house have been hectic and busy to say the least, leaving you little to no alone time with abby. she's been craving some time alone with you for fucking days, but the constant hustle and bustle of the house makes it difficult to fulfil.

all she wants is to have a moment where it's just the two of you, where you can spend some quality time together and not being able to do so us causing her to become more frustrated as the hours pass by.

she glances around and notices how busy the kitchen is, realising it would be pretty easy for the two of you to sneak away without anybody noticing. she’s suddenly pulling at your sleeve and ushering you through the house and up the staircase.

before you reach and empty room she’s pushing you up against the wall so hard the picture frames hung above your head rattle and clang against the drywall. you’re paranoid of somebody catching you and you swiftly pull her into the nearest empty guest room.

before you know it you’re pinned under her as she straddles you, her thick thighs pinning you down either side of your waist. abby chuckles as she struggles to take her shirt off due to the sheer excitement of finally getting her hands in you. you’re already a giggling mess as you reach up to help her pull her shirt up and over her head, sending it tumbling to the hardwood floor.

her hands start to slip up under your sweater as she desperately tugs it off your body before she starts to roughly grope your tits over your lacy bra. she gives a soft smirk and without warning, she leans down pressing her lips lovingly against yours as her hips grind against you. you pull apart for a second, looking up into her eyes with a needy gaze. “please, abs….been too long.”

“i know baby…i know.” she reassures you, glancing down at your lips before leaning close again. her mouth hungrily meeting yours, tongues swirling against each others, causing her to let out a soft groan.

her body is pressed tightly against yours as she continues to grind her hips against you. "i've missed this so much." she whispers, her voice a raspy murmur as her lips glide over your throat.

she wedges one of her thighs in between yours, her knee pressing into your cunt over your pants. your body practically goes lax as you finally get some stimulation exactly where you need it. “fuck. feels so good, abby~”

she continues to kiss you messily and grind against you, her breath becoming more shallow as she starts to lose herself in the moment. "mhm.. that's right~" she smirks, that familiar cocky look on her face as she sees how much you’re loving this.

abby's breathing becomes more shallow as she continues to rock her body against you with a bit more intensity, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip to stifle her voice as she lets out a deeper, more primal moan that makes your pussy clench around nothing whilst her knee bumps into your clit over and over.

just as the two of you start to get into a steady rhythm, you’re interrupted once again by someone calling out for the two of you from downstairs to tell you dinner is ready.

“every fucking time.” she curses under her breath as once again your alone time has been interrupted and she’s forced to pull away from you. her chest still heaving as she sits on the edge of the bed, grumbling to herself as she throws her shirt back over her head begrudgingly.

you lean up on your elbows, watching her as she practically sulks like a little child. “why does this keep happening?” you whine and throw yourself back on the bed dramatically. a second later you’re being pulled off of the bed by your forearms and your shirt is being slung over your head by abby.

you desperately hope no one will notice you slightly disheveled clothes and hair or your lip gloss that’s now sloppily smeared around your mouth. you giggle as abby reaches out to wipe the gloss away, ‘innocently’ opening up your mouth slightly and letting her thumb slip into the warmth of your mouth before she quickly retracts it. she grits her teeth and grips your jaw with her strong hand, “don’t be a fucking tease.” she mumbles sternly, pressing a long, hard kiss straight onto your lips before pulling away and dragging you out of the room and back downstairs.

hours later, everyone has gone to bed in their respective rooms for the night after all watching a movie together which finally leaves you and abby alone for the night.

she's laying on the sofa with you resting in between her legs. she watches as the next movie of the channel starts to play, but you can tell she's not really paying attention to it as her fingers run up and down your thighs teasingly, inching closer and closer to the edge of your panties each second.

she slowly starts to hike up the edge of your nightdress further exposing your thighs to cool air. she stops her teasing and eventually pulls the nightdress up over your hips so she can see the mess you’ve made in your panties. there’s already a wet patch right in the center of your pretty panties and she can’t help but run her finger over it lightly, seeing how you react.

your breath hitches in your throat and you look back over your shoulder at her wordlessly begging her to carry on. she smiles and pressing a kiss to your cheek before she pushes your panties to the side to get a glimpse of your pussy that she’s been desperate to get her hands on for the last four days.

“missed this fucking pussy so much.” she growls as she slaps your pussy sending a jolt of pleasure through your body and you whine out her name. she chuckles cruelly and slaps at your swollen clit again, harder this time whine has you loudly moaning out her name, causing her to cover your mouth with her giant hand, “shut up. be a good girl and shut up for me, yeah?”

you nod obediently and she starts to rub doting circles over your clit, snaking her other hand round to pinch at your nipples through the soft cotton of your nightdress. you’re trying you absolute best to stay quiet but you can’t help the squeaks that leave your lips, pathetic noises slipping through her hands attempt to muffle you. “shut the fuck up or i’m not letting you cum.”

your eyebrows furrow as you try your best to stay silent. her fingers move from your clit down to your weeping hole and she dips her fingers into your folds, inhaling sharply as she feels how wet you are. “god baby, bet you could take three fingers right now. you’re so fucking wet~” she slips her middle and ring finger inside, pumping them slowly as the pads of her digits bump into that spongy spot inside.

your back starts to arch into her and you attempt to pry her hand from your mouth, desperately wanting to kiss her and feel her tongue against yours. she doesn’t even have to speak as the look in her eyes says it all - she’s obviously serious about not letting you cum if you make even the tiniest of noises - she reluctantly pulls her hand away and your arm is quickly wrapping around her neck and pulling her down towards you. the both of your mouth meet in a rough kiss, tongues and teeth clashing together messily.

she adds a third finger and you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning as she stretches your tight hole out with her thick fingers. they’re pumping in and out of you at an eye-rolling pace, completely coated in your slick and glistening in the low light emanating from the christmas tree in the corner of the dim room.

abby notices how hard you’re biting down on your bottom lip and offers you the fingers of her free hand instead. she’s nudging your chin up towards her and before you can even reply your mouth is stuffed full of her fingers exactly how your pussy is.

she’s fucked you so dumb you don’t even think twice before your sucking her fingers into your mouth, moaning around them as she plunges her fingers in and out of your dripping hole pushing you closer and closer to the edge each time. “that’s a good girl, cum for me baby~” abby murmurs, kissing up and down the shell of your ear as she keeps up the pace of her fingers.

the base of her wrist smashing against you clit with every stroke has you literally drooling all over her fingers as your pussy clenches and squelches around her fingers obscenely. your head falls back against her chest and you’re whining and gasping as you cum all over her fingers, syrupy slick gushing out of your abused hole.

abby’s fingers eventually slow down and she slips them out of you, but not without you whining in protest at the empty feeling your experiencing without her fingers stretching you and keeping your pussy stuffed to the brim. “shh…shh, it’s okay. you did such a good job baby, i’m so proud of my girl~”

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