#This thought has been creeping up on me for a while now

[mcrdvcks]

Until I Found You

Summary: Living in a small town had it's pluses and minuses. But when an older man and his daughter move in, things start to change, perhaps for the better.

Word Count: 24.3k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!teacher!reader

Notes: this is looong, and believe me, i was surprised when i realized that it ended up being 24,000 words.

this thing is a slow-burn, i was literally screaming at my screen saying 'just kiss already!' then realizing that, in fact, i'm the one who has to make them kiss or confess or do something.

reader has a last name, but other than that, she isn't described. this technically could be considered an AU of logan (2017) where logan survives, so this was written with old man logan in mind.

i would like to turn this into another oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests! (relating to this or anything else you want to see!)

warnings: none!

The small town you lived in meant a few things, everyone knew everyone, and everyone got in everyone’s business.

A few months ago, an older man and his young daughter moved into town. You weren’t sure exactly how old he was, of course you knew who he was, but even you had to admit, he was attractive. But that’s what everyone thought, you heard the mothers who would pick up their children from school, looking at Logan as he picked up Laura.

It was nice to see a man who picked up his kid, though you’ve never seen Laura’s mother, so perhaps that explains why.

Laura was a quiet and sweet girl, at least that’s what you thought. Apparently, she also had the spirit of a firecracker and got angry easily. And while she’s visited the principal’s office at least 9 times since she’s been here, you still can’t help but see her as a cute little girl who’s been through something traumatic, whatever it was.

You were standing outside with your class in the afternoon, waiting until all the students were picked up. Laura was in another teacher’s class at the end of the day, your coworker Emma Zhou. You and Emma stood next to each other, your classes mingling as they waited for their parents to pick them up.

Emma leaned close to you, “this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”

“Yeah, I think it’s everyone’s favorite part of the day. We get to go home after this.” You replied.

“It used to be that, but now…” Emma trailed off as you glanced over at her, “there aren’t a lot of people in this town who are good looking. But he’s a great new addition.”

You hummed noncommittally, so what if Logan was good-looking? It wasn't like you spent your time ogling him. He was just another parent in the sea of them, a bit rougher around the edges maybe, but nothing that special. Emma shot you a knowing look.

"Come on, you’ve seen him, right? That scruffy beard, those eyes," Emma said, nudging you with her elbow. "He’s like one of those rugged cowboys from the old Westerns."

"You sound like you're about to swoon," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light. You didn't want to admit you might have noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at Laura or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Well, can you blame me?" Emma shot back with a grin. "Small town like ours, and a guy like that shows up? It's bound to turn some heads."

You knew that much. All the women, even those who were married, always ogled him, but he either didn’t mind or didn’t care. His salt and pepper hair, the thick beard—he was practically a wet dream for women everywhere.

Emma nudged you again, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, you’re not even the least bit curious about him?"

"I mean, sure, he's... attractive, but I'm not about to join the fan club," you said, shrugging it off, though you could feel heat creeping up your neck. You kept your focus on the kids in front of you, especially Laura, who sat quietly on the steps, doodling in her notebook like she always did while waiting for her dad.

Emma smirked, clearly not buying your indifference. "Yeah, right. I see the way you look over there sometimes."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're seeing things."

Just then, you noticed Logan’s truck pull into the school parking lot. He stepped out, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the crowd of parents. Laura immediately perked up, her quiet demeanor shifting just a little, and she started gathering her things without a word.

"Speak of the devil," Emma murmured, but you ignored her, watching as Logan approached, his usual scowl in place, though it softened when his eyes landed on his daughter.

He gave a brief nod in your direction as he came closer. "Afternoon."

"Hey," you replied, casually. You weren’t about to give Emma the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

Laura stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she walked over to him. She paused in front of you, though, glancing up with those big, serious eyes of hers.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice quiet but steady with a hint of her accent.

You smiled. "See you tomorrow, Laura."

She gave a small nod before taking Logan’s hand. He didn’t say much else, just a simple ‘thanks’ before turning to leave with Laura in tow. You watched them walk away for a moment longer than necessary, noticing the slight limp in his step that he tried to hide.

"Y/N," Emma sing-songed, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Admit it, you’ve got a little thing for him, don't you?"

You rolled your eyes. "You really need a new hobby."

Emma laughed, but before she could press any further, her attention shifted to another parent picking up their kid, and you were grateful for the distraction. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder about Logan and Laura, what their story was. Everyone in town seemed to have their theories—some more ridiculous than others—but you’d always figured it wasn’t your place to pry.

As the crowd of students and parents thinned out, you found yourself thinking about Logan again. His gruff exterior didn’t bother you—it reminded you of those old Clint Eastwood characters, tough but with something vulnerable underneath. Maybe it was the way he looked at Laura, so protective but with a softness that made you wonder what kind of man he really was when he let his guard down.

Emma’s voice pulled you back to the present. "So, what’s your plan for the evening?"

You shrugged. "Probably just grading papers. Maybe catching up on some Netflix. You?"

"Trying to figure out how to run into Logan at the grocery store," she joked, though you wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t kidding.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good luck with that."

As you both said your goodbyes and headed to your cars, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time. He was already driving off, Laura in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window.

You let out a small sigh and got in your car, starting the engine. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but there was something there. Maybe Emma wasn’t entirely wrong.

Not that you’d ever admit that to her.

---

Much to your dismay, you had to go to the store once you were already clad in your loungewear. You wanted to make pasta, only to remember you forgot to get milk after work.

So now, here you were at the small local grocery store grabbing milk and a pint of ice cream for your troubles. The store was quiet at this hour, a few other people milling about but otherwise uneventful. You grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the dairy section, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. Loungewear was great for a lazy evening at home, but not exactly your first choice for public appearances.

Once you made it to the frozen section, you looked at the pints of ice cream, specifically looking for one of your favorites, Ben and Jerry’s s’mores. “Fuck.” You muttered, seeing a pint of cookie dough in the spot of the s’mores.

You angrily grabbed the cookie dough ice cream to look behind it, only to find a chunky monkey pint. With a huff, you looked at the pint of ice cream, mentally cursing your luck. Just as you were about to put it back onto the shelf, a deep voice spoke from beside you.

"Didn't figure you for a chunky monkey type."

Startled, you looked up and found Logan standing there, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was holding a six-pack of beer and a carton of eggs in one hand, the other casually resting in the pocket of his jeans.

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden appearance. "What? Oh, no, I was just... I was looking for s'mores," you explained awkwardly, holding up the ice cream like it was evidence.

He nodded, his smirk deepening a little as he glanced at the shelves. "Guess they’re out, huh?"

"Yeah, my luck tonight," you muttered, a little embarrassed to be caught standing here obsessing over ice cream in your loungewear. Not exactly how you wanted to run into the guy you were definitely not crushing on. How could you? He was the Wolverine, around 200 years old, and looked to be the age of your father. Well, if your father was still alive. Or if you ever got to know him.

Logan glanced at the shelf again and shrugged. "S'mores is overrated anyway."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment. "Oh really? What’s your go-to then, Mr. Anti-S'mores?"

He smirked, that same low, gravelly voice coming through as he responded. "Not much of an ice cream guy, but if I had to choose… probably plain vanilla. Simple. Not too sweet."

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you. "Of course you'd go for the most basic flavor."

His eyebrow twitched slightly at that, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes. "Sometimes simple’s the best option."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pint of vanilla. "Well, I guess I'll take your advice tonight, then. Not like I have much of a choice."

He gave you a brief nod, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there, but then Logan shifted slightly, his weight on one leg, clearly trying to mask the limp you'd noticed earlier. You weren’t sure if it was from the adamantium or something else, but it definitely wasn’t healing like it should. You found yourself biting your lip, wanting to ask but knowing better.

Instead, you went for something safer. "Laura’s doing well in class, by the way. She’s sharp. A little stubborn, but sharp."

He glanced down at you, a flicker of pride crossing his face. "Yeah, she’s a tough one." His expression softened as he added, "She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she likes you. Keeps her distance with most people."

Your heart fluttered a little at that. Laura was a bit of a mystery, rarely engaging much with the other teachers or students, so hearing that she’d let her guard down even a little with you meant more than you’d expected. "Well, she’s a good kid. I try not to push her too much."

Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you expected, like he was sizing you up in that quiet, brooding way of his. It made you feel both exposed and… oddly seen.

"Anyway," you said, breaking the silence, "I’ll let you get back to your shopping. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than stand around talking about ice cream."

He gave a small grunt that might’ve been a laugh, but it was so subtle you couldn’t be sure. "Yeah. See you around, Ms. Aberra."

"Y/N," you corrected, feeling a little awkward. "You can just call me Y/N."

He hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Y/N, then."

You gave him a small smile, feeling a strange warmth at the way your name sounded in his deep voice. He gave a nod before turning to leave, but as he walked away, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his retreating form. There was something about him—something rough, broken, but undeniably captivating.

---

The next morning, you pulled into the school parking lot, iced coffee in hand, still replaying your chance encounter with Logan at the grocery store. Why did it have to be the one night you went out in loungewear? If Emma ever found out, you'd never hear the end of it. You mentally braced yourself as you walked toward the building, determined to shake off any lingering thoughts about last night.

As you entered the teacher's lounge to drop off your things, Emma was already there, nursing her own cup of coffee. She spotted you immediately and raised an eyebrow.

"You look a little too chipper for a Wednesday," she teased.

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just happy to be halfway through the week."

"Uh-huh," she said, not quite convinced. "You didn't run into anyone interesting last night, did you?"

Your heart skipped a beat. How does she know?

"Like who?" you asked, trying to play dumb, but Emma's smirk told you she wasn't buying it.

"Oh, I don’t know... maybe a certain rugged cowboy-looking guy with a truck?" she said, her grin widening.

You groaned. "Seriously, do you have a sixth sense or something?"

"I knew it!" Emma practically squealed. "You did run into Logan, didn’t you? Come on, spill!"

You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. "It was nothing. We just ran into each other in the frozen section, talked for, like, two seconds. That’s it."

"Uh-huh, and?" Emma leaned forward, eager for details.

"And nothing. We talked about ice cream. He said s'mores was overrated."

Emma let out a dramatic gasp. "Overrated? Now, I know he's not perfect."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Yeah, well, that's the most thrilling part of my story, so feel free to be disappointed."

Emma shook her head, still grinning. "Oh, I'm not disappointed at all. This is just the beginning."

"There's nothing to begin, Emma," you said, exasperated. "He's just another parent."

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," she said with a wink before heading out to her classroom. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again as you followed her out into the hallway.

---

The morning passed uneventfully, but Laura had been quieter than usual in your class. Not that she was typically the most talkative kid, but today she seemed more distant, even from you. She’d finished her assignments early, as usual, but spent most of the class staring out the window instead of doodling in her notebook.

During lunch, you decided to check in with her. You found her sitting by herself outside, picking at the sandwich Logan had packed for her. You approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her.

"Hey, Laura," you greeted, taking a seat on the bench next to her. "Everything okay?"

She glanced at you, her expression as unreadable as always, before giving a slight shrug. "Yeah."

You studied her for a moment, noticing the way she kept her gaze low, avoiding eye contact more than usual. Something was definitely off. You knew better than to push too hard, but you also didn't want her to bottle everything up.

"Well, you know if you ever want to talk, I’m here," you said gently.

She gave another shrug, but this time, her eyes flickered up to meet yours briefly. "I know."

You nodded, letting the silence settle between you. Laura wasn’t one for big emotional outbursts—at least not around you—but you had a feeling she'd talk when she was ready.

"By the way," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood, "your dad said he don’t like s'mores ice cream. Is that true, or is he just weird?"

Laura looked up at you, her lips twitching slightly like she was trying not to smile. "I like s'mores."

"Thought so," you replied with a smirk. "Well, I’m officially questioning all of your dad's taste now."

Laura didn’t laugh, but her expression softened a little, and she took another bite of her sandwich. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress. You let her finish eating in peace, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you’d at least gotten her to relax.

---

The afternoon flew by, and soon enough, the end-of-day pickup routine was in full swing. You and Emma stood outside again, watching the usual parade of parents and cars. Logan’s truck was easy to spot as it pulled up to the curb. You tried to act like you weren’t paying attention, but of course, Emma caught you glancing over.

"Still nothing, huh?" she teased under her breath.

"Shut up," you muttered, doing your best to seem disinterested.

Logan stepped out of the truck, his usual stoic expression in place as he made his way toward the school. Laura was already waiting, standing near the steps with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw him and walked over without hesitation, but before they left, she turned back to you.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice a little softer than usual.

"See you tomorrow, Laura," you replied with a smile.

Logan gave you a nod as they walked past, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight limp in his step again. It was subtle, but there. Your curiosity piqued, but you pushed it down, reminding yourself it wasn’t your place to pry.

Emma, however, was still watching you closely. "You’re so not fooling anyone."

You shot her a look. "Seriously, get a hobby."

Emma just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, this is my hobby, Y/N. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it."

As you both stood there, watching the last of the kids get picked up, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time as it drove away. Emma’s teasing was getting on your nerves, but there was a part of you that couldn’t completely dismiss what she was saying.

Maybe you were a little curious. Just a little. But you weren’t about to admit that to anyone—not even yourself.

---

Over the weekend you decided it was time to get an oil change. You weren’t going to go to ‘Mavin’s Oil Change’, not after that happened. Which is why for the past few years you’ve been doing it yourself.

It wasn’t difficult, and it was a lot cheaper, both wins in your book.

You walked around the hardware store, glancing at the shelves as you carried a new oil drain pan. You paused in front of the rows of motor oil, scanning the labels. Conventional had always worked fine for you, but maybe this time you'd splurge on the synthetic blend. It wasn't a huge decision, but it felt like a small act of treating yourself, in a way.

You were debating the pros and cons of the oil options when you heard the sound of someone walking up behind you.

"Didn’t peg you for the kind to do your own oil changes."

You turned your head and were met with Logan’s familiar gravelly voice. There he was again—of all places, he’d found you here in the auto section of the hardware store.

"Yeah, well, it's cheaper this way," you replied with a casual shrug, hoping to mask the slight surprise in your voice. You gestured to the oil in front of you. "What about you? Conventional or synthetic blend?"

Logan glanced at the shelf, then back at you. "Conventional. Gets the job done."

"Figures." You grinned a little, grabbing the conventional oil off the shelf. "Guess I’ll stick with what I know too, then."

He raised an eyebrow at you, but there was a hint of amusement behind his usual stoic demeanor. "Figured you’d be one to overthink it. Synthetic’s not all it’s cracked up to be."

You chuckled. "I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Oil Expert."

He grunted in response, grabbing something off the shelf for himself. For a moment, you both stood there, surrounded by tools and motor oil, neither of you saying much. It was kind of nice—quiet, comfortable in a way you wouldn’t have expected.

You shifted, holding the oil pan in your hands. "So, is Laura doing anything fun this weekend?"

Logan glanced at you, his face softening slightly at the mention of his daughter. "Not much. She likes to keep busy, but… this town ain’t exactly got a lot going on."

"True," you nodded, biting your lip as you tried to think of something. "She could come by and help me out with my garden, if she’s interested. I know she likes plants."

Logan looked at you, a little longer than usual, and you wondered if you’d crossed some kind of line offering something so personal. But then he nodded. "She’d probably like that."

"Cool," you said, feeling oddly relieved that you hadn’t messed up. "Let me know if she wants to. I could use an extra set of hands."

He gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on you again for a second before he turned his attention back to the shelf. There was that same weight to his gaze, like he was always sizing things up, figuring people out.

"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I’m starting to think you’re stalking me. First the grocery store, now here. Should I be worried?"

Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Pretty sure it’s the other way around."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I’m just a simple schoolteacher who likes ice cream and doing her own oil changes. Hardly the stalking type."

"Sure," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly into what could almost be considered a smile.

You felt your own lips tugging into a grin, and for a moment, it felt easier. Logan wasn’t always the easiest person to talk to, but something about these small, random moments with him made you feel more at ease than you expected.

"Well, good luck with your oil change," he said, turning to head down another aisle. "Maybe see you around."

"Yeah, see you around," you replied, watching him walk away before you continued shopping, a strange warmth lingering in your chest.

As you walked toward the checkout, you couldn’t help but think back on how natural it felt, just talking to him. There wasn’t any awkwardness or forced conversation—just two people running into each other at the hardware store. Nothing to overthink. Except, maybe, the fact that you were starting to like these encounters more than you’d like to admit.

---

Logan blew out a breath of his cigar smoke. Laura said she didn’t like it when he smoked inside so he started doing it outside on the porch.

A small added bonus was seeing you, a few houses down, across the street, currently underneath your car getting the oil to drain.

The door opened and shut behind him as Laura stepped out, “ella te gusta,” she said softly.

He let out a huff, “kid, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura let out her own huff, sitting down next to Logan’s chair with her sketchbook, flipping it open. She didn’t say anything for a while, just started sketching in that intense, quiet way she had. Logan leaned back, puffing on his cigar, watching the smoke curl up into the air.

He caught himself glancing back across the street, where you were still working under your car. Laura's earlier comment lingered in his mind, even if he pretended not to know what it meant.

After a few minutes of silence, Laura looked up from her drawing. “You should go help her.”

Logan snorted, taking another puff of his cigar. “She’s fine. Knows what she’s doin’.”

Laura raised an eyebrow at him, her expression skeptical. “You’re always saying people shouldn’t be doin’ stuff like that alone. What if something happens?”

“Yeah, but she’s not helpless,” he grunted, though there was something in his tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

Laura shrugged and went back to her sketch. “Still think you should.”

Logan glanced at her, then back at you. You were sliding out from under the car, wiping your hands on your jeans, looking like you’d handled it just fine. He grunted again, though this time it was more to himself.

“What are you drawing?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

Laura held up her sketchbook, showing him a detailed drawing of a plant—a vine with thorns twisting around a branch. It reminded him of your garden, something about the way the plants seemed to grow wild but still had a certain beauty to them.

“That for Ms. Aberra?” Logan asked, the name slipping out before he could stop it. He tried to keep his tone casual, but Laura shot him a knowing look.

“Maybe.” She shrugged, but there was a smirk playing on her lips. “She likes plants. Thought she’d like this.”

Logan just nodded, staying quiet. He wasn’t about to get into a conversation with an eleven-year-old about why he’d noticed things about your garden or how you seemed to have a way with plants. That wasn’t his style.

“Why don’t you go show her?” Logan suggested, nodding toward you as you gathered up your tools.

Laura seemed to think about it for a second, then shook her head. “Maybe later. She’s busy.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t push it. He knew better than to try and make Laura do something if she wasn’t in the mood. The kid had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Though he supposes it was his fault.

A teenage girl who was walking a dog, a tan pit bull, stopped in front of your driveway, the dog happily wagging its tail as it patiently waited for you to say hello.

You were still wiping the oil off your hands when you noticed the pair. "Hey, there.” You smiled as you crouched down to greet Juno, who leaned eagerly into your hand, her tail wagging excitedly. "How are you, Juno?" you cooed, giving the pit bull a good scratch behind the ears.

The teenage girl holding the leash smiled politely. “She’s been dying to see you again,” she said, giving the leash a little slack so the dog could get closer.

"Well, I’m always happy to see her." You grinned as the dog nudged your leg, clearly wanting more attention. "Been a busy evening?”

The girl shrugged. “Yeah, but Juno here makes it better. You know how it is.”

You nodded. "Definitely. Plants are my version of Juno. Or baking, it’s hard to decide.”

The girl chuckled lightly before glancing at the car behind you. “Doing your own oil change?”

"Yep," you said, standing up and wiping your hands again on the rag. "Easier and cheaper than going to a shop."

She raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I wouldn’t even know where to start."

“You’d be surprised how easy it is. YouTube tutorials, mostly,” you said, shrugging as you wiped your hands on the rag.

The girl smiled. "I might have to try that next time. If I don’t mess up my car in the process.”

You laughed. "That’s what the tutorials are for. But yeah, it’s not too bad. You’d get the hang of it."

As you chatted with the girl for a bit longer, Juno continued to happily soak up the attention. You scratched behind her ears one more time before standing up straight. “Well, good luck with the rest of your walk. Always nice seeing you two.”

“Same here,” the girl replied, tugging gently on Juno’s leash. “C’mon, girl. Let’s get home.”

You waved as they continued down the street, Juno looking back at you with her tail wagging. With a satisfied sigh, you turned back to finish cleaning up, putting away the oil pan and bottles of motor oil.

Across the street, Logan puffed his cigar, watching as you gathered your tools and wiped your hands one more time. Laura had gone back to her sketching, though every now and then she’d glance up at him with that same look.

“She’s done now,” Laura said after a moment, still sketching.

“I can see that,” Logan grumbled, tapping ash off the end of his cigar.

“Still think you should go help,” she added, not even bothering to look up this time.

Logan huffed, staring at you as you double-checked your work and began packing up. He didn’t need to help—you were obviously handling everything just fine. But still, there was something about the way you worked so methodically, so determined. You’d done it all yourself, like you didn’t need anyone’s help. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling, though, that maybe he wanted to offer it anyway.

“Kid, you sure know how to push buttons,” he muttered under his breath.

Laura just smirked, flipping another page in her sketchbook.

Logan grumbled to himself for a moment longer before standing up from his chair, tapping out the last of his cigar in the ashtray. “Stay here.”

He walked across the street toward your driveway, hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes set on you as you knelt by the toolbox, sorting through the remaining tools.

“You done already?” he called out, making his presence known.

You glanced up, not expecting to see him again so soon. “Yeah, just finished up,” you replied, standing up and wiping your hands on the rag again. “What about you? Something break down?”

“Nah, just figured I’d see if you needed any help,” he said, his tone casual, though you could tell it wasn’t exactly his style to offer assistance without a reason.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. “You offering to help after the job’s already done?”

"Guess I am," Logan replied with a hint of a smirk, his eyes not quite meeting yours.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I suppose. Next time, I’ll be sure to save the hardest part for you."

"Yeah, you do that," he said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. He shifted his weight slightly, glancing over at the now-finished oil change. "You do this kind of thing often? Or just the oil changes?"

"Mostly just the oil changes," you admitted, as you leaned in closer like you were telling a secret. “I went on a few dates with Mavin’s son the first few months I was here and didn’t go over well. Now he overcharges me.” You held up your hands, “but if it’s something complicated, I promise I drive 30 minutes to the city to get it checked out.”

Logan's eyes flickered with interest, the corners of his mouth twitching into something resembling a smile. "That right? Well, can't say I'm surprised. Mavin's a bit of a jerk."

You chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, he wasn't thrilled about me ghosting his son, that's for sure. But hey, I learned how to change my own oil, so I guess something good came out of it."

Logan grunted in agreement, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't say much after that, his eyes lingering on you as if he were trying to piece together something that didn't quite fit. You had a feeling he wasn't used to people like you—people who seemed to find their way into his life, one way or another.

"Well," you said, breaking the silence, "thanks for the offer, even if the job’s already done." You smiled, a little uncertain about what to do next. "Guess I'll see you around."

He nodded, but didn't make a move to leave. "Laura likes you, you know."

That caught you off guard. "Oh," you replied, a bit flustered. "Well, I like her too. She's a good kid. Smart, but... you already know that."

"Yeah," Logan muttered, his voice softer than usual. "She doesn’t open up to many people. But you... you’re different."

You weren't sure how to respond to that, so you just nodded, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through your chest. "I’m glad she feels comfortable around me. She’s been through a lot."

Logan's eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. "More than most," he agreed, his voice rough with something that sounded a lot like guilt.

You wanted to reach out, to say something that might make him feel better, but words failed you. So instead, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, not awkward but charged with something unspoken.

"Anyway," Logan said, clearing his throat as if to shake off the heavy moment. "If you ever need help with the car, you know where to find me. Or Laura."

You smiled, feeling that warmth again. "I’ll keep that in mind. And if you two ever need help with, I don’t know, math homework or... anything else, you know where to find me."

He nodded, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Noted."

You watched as he turned to leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. As he walked back toward his house, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something more than just friendly encounters at the store.

---

During lunch, you sat in your classroom, enjoying 30 minutes of peace and quiet before the kids came back into the room. The soft hum of the heater filled the space, making the room feel warmer than usual as you flipped through the stack of quizzes you needed to grade. The formulas and diagrams were a blur as your mind drifted back to the weekend, specifically to Logan.

The way he’d offered to help with your oil change, the quiet moments that had followed—it was so unlike him. Or maybe, you realized, you just didn’t know him well enough yet. Either way, something about it had left you feeling... something.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, that cheeky grin on her face.

“So,” she started, stepping inside your classroom. “I hear you’re making friends with a certain someone across the street.”

You rolled your eyes, setting down the quiz you’d been half-grading. “I’m not ‘making friends.’ We just happen to run into each other.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Mhm. Sure. Totally normal for him to come help with your oil change, right?”

"My God, how do you know?" you asked, eyes widening in disbelief as you sat back in your chair.

Emma smirked, leaning against the doorway like she had all the time in the world. "Small town. You know how people talk." She paused, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Besides, you’re not exactly subtle. Logan? The gruff guy across the street? It’s hard to miss that you two have been... running into each other more than usual."

You sighed, rubbing your temple. "It’s not like that. He just offered to help with my car, and Laura—"

Emma’s grin widened. "Ah, Laura. That’s the key, isn’t it? I’ve seen how she looks at you. That kid doesn’t warm up to just anyone. She’s a little... prickly, but with you? She’s different."

"She’s a good kid," you said, trying to deflect. "She’s been through a lot, you know? I just think she needs someone to talk to. Someone who’s not... intimidating."

"Sure, sure," Emma teased, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of one of the desks. "But you can’t tell me there isn’t something more going on between you and Logan. I mean, come on. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the ‘friendly neighbor’ type. More like ‘leave me alone or I’ll stab you with my claws’ type."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Okay, yeah, he’s not exactly Mr. Rogers. But it’s not like we’re... you know, it’s just—"

"Flirting?" Emma offered with a raised eyebrow.

"Friendly," you corrected quickly, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "It’s just friendly. He’s Laura’s dad, and we’ve talked a few times, but that’s it."

Emma gave you a knowing look. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I’m the Queen of England."

You groaned, pushing your quizzes aside. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"

"Because," Emma said with a shrug, "it’s about time you had a little fun in this town. You spend all your time either at school or working on that garden of yours. You deserve to have a life outside of grading papers and pulling weeds."

"I have a life," you protested.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? And when was the last time you went on a date?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, realizing you didn’t have a good answer. "Okay, fine," you admitted, "it’s been a while. But that doesn’t mean—"

"Exactly my point," Emma interrupted, flashing a triumphant grin. "Look, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. But Logan? He’s clearly interested. And I think you are too."

"Okay… even if I was interested, I’m pretty sure a guy like that doesn’t have dating or relationships on his mind. Especially with someone like me." You leaned back in your chair, feeling a mix of frustration and doubt.

Emma gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. "Someone like you? Come on, Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re smart, funny, and clearly, Logan thinks you’re worth his time. He’s not just helping anyone with an oil change, believe me."

You sighed, crossing your arms. "It’s not that simple. You know what he’s been through. And Laura... she’s been through so much already. I’m not about to mess with their lives."

Emma smirked, tapping her fingers on the desk. "Mess with their lives? Or make their lives better? Laura clearly likes you, Y/N. She’s practically glued to your side when you’re around. And Logan? He’s different with you. I see it."

You frowned, picking up a pen and twirling it between your fingers. "Laura’s nice to me, yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s indifferent to most of the other teachers, and she barely talks in class. I don’t even know if she likes me, or if it’s just... I don’t know."

"She doesn’t warm up to just anyone," Emma pointed out. "You’re different. She looks at you like she trusts you, and Logan trusts you too, whether he shows it or not. That’s not something that happens often with them. They’re... well, guarded, for obvious reasons."

You were quiet for a moment, thinking about Laura. It was true—she was quiet, distant with others, but with you? There was something different. She’d even started staying after class sometimes, just sitting there while you graded papers or prepped for the next lesson. And Logan? He was always nearby, watching, but never intruding.

Still, the idea of anything happening between you and Logan felt... complicated. "Even if he did trust me, it’s not like he’s the type to be thinking about relationships. The man’s got enough on his plate. And me? I’ve got work, and... I’m not exactly relationship material."

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "Please, Y/N. If anyone deserves a chance at something real, it’s you. You’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else—your students, your job. Maybe it’s time to let someone take care of you for a change."

You looked at her, skeptical. "You think Logan is the type to 'take care of' someone?"

She smirked. "He already is. He’s just doing it in his own way. And trust me, the way he looks at you? There’s more there than you realize. You just have to stop overthinking it."

Before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Emma stood up, giving you one last knowing smile before heading for the door. "Just think about it, Y/N. Sometimes, the best things happen when you least expect them."

You watched her go, your mind still swirling with doubt and a tiny sliver of hope. Could there really be something more between you and Logan? Or was it just your imagination?

As your students started filing back into the room, you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the rest of the day. But even as you taught your lessons and graded papers, Logan lingered in the back of your mind.

---

Later that evening, you found yourself in the garden, pulling weeds and trying to clear your head. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the small town. You liked this time of day—the quiet, the calm.

Just as you were settling into the rhythm of pulling weeds, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you saw Logan standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Need any help?" he asked, his gruff voice breaking the silence.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, with the garden? I’m just pulling weeds."

He shrugged, stepping closer. "Doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands."

You smiled, feeling a bit awkward but oddly touched by the offer. "Sure, if you’re up for it."

Logan crouched down next to you, pulling at the weeds without saying much. The two of you worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the rustling of plants and the distant hum of traffic.

Eventually, you spoke up, trying to break the tension. "So... Laura’s been doing well in class. She’s quiet, but I think she’s starting to come out of her shell a bit."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah? That’s good to hear. She doesn’t talk much at home either."

"She’s a smart kid," you added, pulling another weed. "But I think... she could use someone to talk to. Someone she feels safe with."

Logan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "She’s been through a lot. Trust doesn’t come easy for her."

You hesitated, then asked, "What about you? Do you feel safe here?"

He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. "Safer than I’ve felt in a long time."

That simple admission hit you harder than you expected. Logan, this gruff, guarded man, was letting his walls down, even just a little. It made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

"That’s good," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. "I’m glad."

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt heavy but not uncomfortable. Logan’s presence was grounding, solid in a way that made you feel... safe too.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I appreciate what you’ve done for Laura. She doesn’t trust many people, but with you... it’s different."

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "I’m just doing my job. She’s a good kid, like I said."

Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "It’s more than that. She trusts you. And... so do I."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. There was something unspoken in the air between you, something neither of you was ready to address. But it was there, simmering just below the surface.

"Logan, I—"

Before you could finish, he stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it."

You stood up too, feeling the weight of what was left unsaid hanging in the air. "Thanks for the help."

He gave a brief nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to leave. "Anytime."

As you watched him walk away, your heart was pounding in your chest. There was no denying it now—there was something between you and Logan. Something real. And it scared you just as much as it excited you.

---

Parent-teacher conferences always stressed you out. Gathering all your students’ information, organizing it all, it was hectic and unreasonable. You couldn’t understand why an email didn’t suffice.

Possibly the worst thing about it is the fact it took place in the school gym, which had no AC. The heat was almost unbearable, making your clothes stick to your skin as you shuffled through your notes, waiting for the next parent to arrive to your table.

The gym was packed, parents and their kids moving between tables as they talked to teachers, making the already stifling room feel even hotter. You fanned yourself with the stack of notes you’d organized earlier, feeling sweat prickle at your back.

You glanced at your list of appointments, sighing when you saw who was next: Logan. You hadn't expected him to come. Laura was doing well enough in your class, but she wasn’t exactly the type to care about grades. You figured Logan would be the same—practical, but not overly concerned about school meetings.

You straightened up, glancing around to see him approaching with Laura by his side. She looked slightly uncomfortable, her arms crossed and her gaze focused anywhere but the gym, while Logan was, well... Logan. His expression was gruff, unreadable as usual, but there was something in his eyes that softened when he saw you.

“Ms. Aberra,” Logan greeted as he reached your table, giving you a nod.

“Logan,” you said, smiling at Laura. “And Laura. How are you two doing?”

Laura shrugged, barely meeting your gaze. Logan pulled out the chair for her, and she reluctantly sat down, still quiet. He stayed standing, leaning on the back of the chair, watching you with that familiar intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Laura’s doing fine in class. Really, there’s not much to talk about.”

Logan glanced at Laura, then back at you. “Figured I’d come by anyway. See how things are goin’.”

You nodded, pulling up Laura’s grades on your tablet. “Well, like I said, she’s doing great. She’s one of the best in the class, actually. Quiet, but I can tell she’s always thinking.”

Laura’s face remained impassive, but there was the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.

“She’s got potential,” you continued, looking at Logan. “Especially in science. I think she’d be great at anything she wanted to do, honestly.”

Logan grunted in response, but there was a proud glint in his eye. “That’s good to hear.”

Laura finally spoke up, her voice quiet but clear. “I like science. And math.”

You smiled, surprised by her willingness to engage. “Well, you’re really good at it. I was thinking, if you ever wanted, there are some extracurriculars coming up. Science club, math competitions—stuff like that. It might be fun.”

Laura glanced at Logan, who simply shrugged. “Up to you, kid.”

She seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded slightly. “Maybe.”

“Well, no pressure,” you said, trying to keep it casual. “You can always decide later.”

There was an awkward pause as you flipped through the rest of Laura’s grades, though there wasn’t much else to say. She was excelling, especially considering her background. You couldn’t help but feel a little protective over her, knowing what she’d been through.

“So, uh, anything else you need to know?” you asked, looking back up at Logan.

He shook his head. “Just wanted to check in, make sure she’s on track.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth in his words even if he didn’t show it. “She’s doing great. Really.”

Logan gave you a brief nod, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary before he straightened up. “Thanks.”

You watched as he turned to Laura, ready to leave, but she didn’t stand just yet. Instead, she glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowed slightly like she was piecing something together.

“Are you... friends?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the noise of the gym.

You blinked, taken aback by the question. Logan seemed just as surprised, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly recovered.

“Well,” you said slowly, glancing at Logan for a cue. “I guess you could say that.”

Logan cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

Laura’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t quite believe it but wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.”

She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor as she started toward the exit. Logan hesitated for a moment, giving you one last look before following her. “See you around,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

You watched them go, feeling that strange mix of emotions again—the warmth, the uncertainty, the possibility of something more. As the door closed behind them, you realized that, for once, you didn’t mind the heat. It was a small town, and people noticed everything. But you were starting to wonder if maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Laura grabbed his hand as they exited the gym, having already seen her other teachers. She looked up at Logan, as he stared straight ahead at the truck in the parking lot. “Creo que ella te gusta.”

He let out a huff, “kid, don’t know how many times I gotta say it, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura gave him a sidelong glance, clearly unimpressed by his response. "You should learn," she muttered under her breath, squeezing his hand as they reached the truck.

Logan grunted as he fumbled for the keys, a slight wince crossing his features as he slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at Laura, who was already buckling herself in without a word. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t quite easy either.

He turned the key in the ignition, the truck sputtering to life as he pulled out of the parking lot. His mind wandered back to the parent-teacher conference, and specifically to Y/N. She’d always been good with Laura, he could see that. But lately, something about her seemed to calm him too—a feeling he wasn’t used to and didn’t quite know how to handle.

“You like her,” Laura said, breaking the silence with her blunt observation. It wasn’t a question.

Logan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “She’s a good teacher. You like her, too.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, crossing her arms. “You act different when she’s around. You don’t growl as much.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any real humor. “I don’t growl.”

“Yes, you do,” Laura said, looking out the window. “But not at her.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the road, trying to push away the thoughts circling in his mind. He wasn’t a man used to... feelings, especially not ones that left him unsure. But Y/N had a way of sneaking under his defenses, and that scared him more than he’d like to admit.

“I like her,” Laura said quietly after a long stretch of silence.

Logan glanced at her, surprised by the soft admission. Laura didn’t trust people easily, and she certainly didn’t like many. But her words carried weight, especially to him.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Laura nodded, still looking out the window. “She’s not like the others. She doesn’t treat me like I’m different.”

Logan felt a knot in his chest loosen, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the relief of knowing Laura had found someone she trusted, or maybe it was the way Y/N had already become a part of their lives, without him even realizing it. Either way, he didn’t say anything more, just drove the rest of the way home in silence, lost in his own thoughts.

---

The next morning, you thanked the stars that it was Saturday. You were exhausted from the large amount of human interaction last night and decided to sleep in a bit before tending to the garden.

After that, and taking a shower, you slipped into comfortable clothes, some small shorts and a large t-shirt that covered the shorts, since it only getting warmer outside.

Even with that said, you couldn’t help but crave chocolate chip cookies, thanking the stars once again that you had all the ingredients.

You turned on the oven, allowing it to pre-heat, as you grabbed a mixing bowl and walked around your small kitchen looking for the ingredients listed on your worn-out piece of paper. You still hadn’t memorized the recipe after making it for years.

The doorbell ringed as you poked your head out the side of your kitchen. When you answered it, you were pleasantly surprised to find Laura outside, wearing what you could only describe as a cute grey shirt with a colorful bear on it. You’d never say it to her, she’d probably leave if you said she looked cute.

“Hey, Laura. D’you need anything?”

“Daddy said I could help with the garden.” She spoke softly.

“Oof, sorry kiddo. Already did it this morning.” You looked back inside your house before turning back to Laura, “though, I could use some help making cookies.”

Laura hesitated for a second, her dark eyes studying you as if trying to decide whether this was worth her time. You were still getting used to her quiet, guarded nature, but you’d learned quickly that she was different around you compared to other people. It was like you had some sort of unspoken understanding, even if you didn’t fully get why.

“Okay,” she finally said, stepping past you into the house.

You closed the door behind her, walking back into the kitchen and grabbing a second mixing bowl. “You ever make cookies before?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her.

Laura shook her head, standing by the counter as she watched you.

“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’m about to show you the magic of sugar, butter, and chocolate chips.” You grinned as you started measuring out the ingredients. “Can you hand me the brown sugar?”

She scanned the countertop before reaching for the brown sugar, silently passing it to you. You got the feeling she wasn’t used to this kind of thing—normal, mundane stuff like baking cookies on a lazy Saturday. Not that you knew her whole story or anything, but you’d heard enough about Logan and his complicated life to guess Laura hadn’t had a typical upbringing.

As you started mixing the butter and sugar together, you tried to think of something to say. Conversations with Laura could be tricky; she wasn’t the chatty type, and you didn’t want to push her too much.

“So,” you started, keeping your tone casual, “what’s Logan up to today?”

She shrugged. “Resting.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Logan resting was a good thing. You knew he’d been having a rough time lately with his health, even though he wasn’t the type to admit it. You figured he was just being stubborn, refusing to slow down even though it was clear his healing wasn’t what it used to be.

Laura remained silent, watching as you added the flour to the mix.

“You wanna stir?” you asked, offering her the spatula.

She looked at it for a moment before stepping closer and taking it from you. Her movements were careful, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but smile as she focused on the task.

“Nice job,” you said, giving her a thumbs-up. “You’ve got a future in cookie-making, I can tell.”

Laura didn’t react much, but you swore you saw the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

As she stirred, you reached for the chocolate chips. “Best part of making cookies—sneaking a few of these before they go in the dough.” You tossed a couple into your mouth, then held the bag out to her.

She paused, looking at the chocolate chips like she wasn’t sure what to do. After a second, she picked one up and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.

You chuckled. “See? Told you it’s the best part.”

Laura kept stirring the dough while you got the baking sheets ready. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just… quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Laura wasn’t the type of kid who needed constant conversation, and you appreciated that about her.

As she worked, you glanced at her again, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. You didn’t know what exactly she’d been through, but whatever it was, you could tell it had shaped her into someone far older than her years.

When the dough was ready, you started scooping it onto the trays. “Almost done,” you said. “Then it’s just a waiting game while they bake.”

Laura nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she watched you.

You slid the trays into the oven and set the timer before turning back to her. “You want some water or anything while we wait?”

She shook her head, her eyes still on the oven like she was trying to figure out why people made such a big deal out of cookies.

“Well, I’m grabbing a drink.” You poured yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you sipped. “It’ll take around 12 minutes for them to finish. Then we put in another batch, and another until the dough has all been used.”

Laura gave a small nod, her eyes still focused on the oven. It was like she was trying to figure out if all this waiting was actually worth it.

You studied her for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. She never really said much, but it was clear there was a lot happening behind those dark, watchful eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why she’d taken to you, but you were grateful for it. Laura didn’t let many people in, that much was obvious.

“I can show you a movie. Or maybe some music? I usually play somethin’ while I wait.”

Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Music,” she said quietly.

You smiled, glad she was at least open to that. “Cool. Let’s see what we got.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your playlist, landing on something mellow, nothing too upbeat or distracting. You hit play, letting the soft sounds of a guitar fill the room.

Laura leaned against the counter, listening, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t fidgety or impatient, just quiet, like she was absorbing everything around her.

You took another sip of water, watching her from the corner of your eye. “You ever help Logan with stuff like this? Like cooking?”

She shook her head. “No.”

You figured as much. “Well, if he ever asks, you’ll be a pro now.” You winked at her, earning the tiniest of shrugs in return.

You both stood there in a comfortable silence, letting the music play. It wasn’t awkward, just… peaceful. The smell of the cookies starting to bake filled the kitchen, and for a moment, it was easy to forget all the heavy stuff hanging in the air—Logan’s health, Laura’s past, whatever weight she carried that you didn’t fully understand yet.

After a few minutes, Laura spoke up. “I talked to Logan about you… last night.”

You paused, surprised she’d bring it up. “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”

She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the oven. “He said you’re... different from other people. In a good way.”

A warmth crept into your chest at that. “Well, that’s nice of him to say. I think he’s pretty different too, you know. In a good way.”

Laura looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He likes you,” she said, her tone flat, but there was something in the way she said it, like it was a fact she was still processing.

You felt your cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah? Well… I like him too.”

She stared at you for a moment longer before nodding slowly, like she was piecing something together in her head. “He doesn’t trust people. But he trusts you.”

You swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I’m glad he does. I mean… I care about him, Laura. And you too.”

Laura’s eyes flickered with something—maybe understanding, maybe something else you couldn’t quite name. She didn’t say anything for a while, just looked down at the floor.

Before the silence could stretch too long, the oven timer beeped, cutting through the moment.

“Cookies are done,” you said, turning to grab the oven mitts. You pulled the trays out, setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was even stronger now, warm and sweet, filling the entire kitchen. “Wanna taste test one?”

Laura hesitated for a second before nodding.

You carefully lifted a cookie from the tray, holding it out to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”

She took it, blowing on it before taking a small bite. You watched as she chewed, her face still neutral, but you could tell she liked it.

“Good, right?” you asked, biting into one yourself.

Laura nodded again, chewing slowly. For a split second, you thought you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

As you both stood there, munching on cookies, the air felt lighter, like some kind of invisible barrier between you had shifted just a little. You didn’t know all of Laura’s story, but you didn’t need to. What mattered was that she was here, sharing this small moment with you, and that was enough.

“So,” you said after a few minutes, breaking the silence. “What should we do next? More cookies? Or maybe try out that movie?”

Laura looked at the remaining dough, then back at you. “More cookies.”

You grinned. “Good choice. Let’s make this batch even better.”

---

After all the cookies came out of the oven, you sent Laura home with a container of some of the batch. You could never eat them all on your own, and you ended up giving some away anyways, so why not give some to Laura?

You walked Laura to your front door and watched as she crossed the street, her figure disappearing behind the door three houses down. There was always something surreal about the way she moved—so quiet, so controlled, like she had learned to blend into the background. It made you wonder what her life had been like before coming here.

When Laura walked in, the container held tightly to her chest, Logan sat on the couch, the soft murmur of the TV barely audible as he sipped from a whiskey bottle. His eyes flicked over to her as the door clicked shut behind her.

“You were gone a while,” he muttered, his voice rough but not harsh.

Laura shrugged, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Made cookies.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, watching her disappear from view. The faint clinking of a container hitting the counter reached his ears. He knew she didn’t do stuff like this unless someone dragged her into it. “With Y/N?” he asked, taking another sip.

Laura reappeared, nodding as she plopped down beside him on the couch, the container of cookies now on the coffee table.

Logan stared at it for a moment, then gave a small grunt of approval. He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the container, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness that felt out of place in his usual world of bitterness and whiskey.

“Not bad,” he muttered, glancing at Laura. “You help with these?”

She shrugged again, still watching the TV, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her expression that didn’t go unnoticed by Logan.

“Hmm,” he grunted, leaning back. “Maybe next time, you can bring some whiskey to wash ‘em down.”

Laura didn’t smile, but her lips twitched slightly as if she was trying not to.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the low hum of the TV filling the room. Logan’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He didn’t trust people easily—never had, and probably never would. But Y/N was different. He’d seen how she handled Laura, how she didn’t push too hard or ask too many questions. And she was patient, something Logan knew he didn’t have much of.

“Y/N’s a good one,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Laura didn’t say anything, but she shifted slightly, leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

Logan watched her for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. He knew settling down wasn’t really in his nature, but for Laura’s sake—and maybe a bit for his own—he was trying. And Y/N? She made that easier, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“She ask about me?” Logan asked, more curious than he wanted to let on.

Laura nodded, her eyes still on the screen. “Yeah. I told her you were resting.”

Logan snorted. “Resting. That’s a nice way of putting it.”

Laura didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t push further. He knew what Y/N probably thought—that he was just some grumpy guy with a limp, maybe a few too many scars for comfort. She didn’t know the half of it. But she didn’t pry either, and for that, he was grateful.

“Guess I’ll have to thank her for the cookies,” Logan said after a while, taking another sip from the bottle. His mind wandered to the thought of Y/N—the way she smiled when she was around Laura, how she always seemed to have the right balance of patience and understanding. It wasn’t just anyone who could handle a kid like Laura, let alone make her feel comfortable enough to bake cookies on a Saturday.

“She likes you too, you know,” Laura said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Y/N,” Laura clarified, her tone as flat as ever. “She likes you.”

Logan chuckled, though there was a bit of discomfort behind it. “You don’t know that, kid.”

Laura looked at him, her gaze piercing and a little too wise for someone her age. “She does. I can tell.”

Logan stared back at her, caught off guard by how matter-of-fact she sounded. It was hard to argue with Laura when she had that look on her face, the same look that said she saw through everything and didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

He cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well… that’s her problem, not mine.”

Laura didn’t react, just turned back to the TV. But Logan could feel her eyes on him for a few seconds longer before she settled back into the cushions.

Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Laura’s words hanging in the air. He wasn’t used to people ‘liking’ him in the way Laura seemed to imply. People tolerated him, sure, maybe even respected him, but liking him? That was new territory.

He let out a sigh and reached for another cookie. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not right now.

But even as he chewed in silence, he couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N—and what it might mean if Laura was right.

---

A few days later, you found yourself at Logan’s house helping Laura with some of her English homework. You usually don’t make ‘house calls’ to help students, but you couldn’t deny Laura.

Logan stayed seated in the living room, drinking a beer and watching the TV. But really, he was pretending not to listen to their conversation in the kitchen.

“You’re doing good, Laura.” You said.

Laura shrugged, her eyes flicking over to Logan in the living room. “Can you stay for dinner?” She asked you.

Logan’s head snapped up at that. He hadn’t expected Laura to ask, but there was no denying that the kid had gotten attached to you. Before you could answer, Laura added, “I made something. With Logan.”

That was a lie, of course. Laura had barely touched the stove since the cookies, but she gave Logan a look that told him to back her up.

Y/N smiled softly. “I wouldn’t say no to dinner.” She glanced at Logan. “If that’s okay?”

Logan grunted, shifting his weight. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Laura gave a small nod, clearly satisfied with the answer. You smiled, pushing the papers aside. “Guess I’m staying for dinner, then.”

Logan shot Laura a look, one that said what exactly are we eating? but she ignored him, turning her attention back to you. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said, which wasn’t reassuring.

“Well, I’m excited. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it,” you joked, standing up to stretch your arms.

Logan watched you from the corner of his eye as he sat back down on the couch, pretending to be more interested in the muted TV than he actually was. You couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed a little tenser whenever you were around, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He was trying to stay low-key, but you could tell he was keeping tabs on every move you made, every word you said.

“So, what’s on the menu?” you asked, trying to ease the quiet that had settled over the room.

Laura, sitting across from you, didn’t answer right away, like she was carefully considering her next move. Logan’s eyes flicked over to her, waiting for her response.

“Spaghetti,” she finally said, her voice as flat as ever.

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh yeah? Sounds good.”

Logan gave a low grunt from the couch, and you could tell by his expression that he was trying to figure out when they’d supposedly made spaghetti. But he didn’t contradict Laura, just took another swig from his beer.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” you said, standing up from the kitchen table. “Let me know if you need any help.”

Laura didn’t say anything, just headed to the stove where a pot of water was already simmering. You followed her, glancing at the nearly-empty box of spaghetti on the counter. It was clear she hadn’t done this a lot, but the effort was what mattered. And if it meant spending more time with her—and Logan—you weren’t about to complain.

“I’ll get the sauce going,” you offered, stepping beside her. Laura gave you a slight nod, sliding over to make room.

Logan watched from the couch, his eyes narrowing as if he was weighing the situation. He hadn’t expected you to just roll with it, but then again, you always had a way of adapting.

“So, how’s school?” you asked Laura, trying to keep the conversation light while you opened the jar of sauce.

“It’s fine,” she said, her tone noncommittal.

You stirred the sauce, giving a little shrug. “Well, if you ever need help with any other type of homework, you know where to find me.”

She glanced up at you, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes softened for a second. “I know.”

The two of you worked in quiet sync, with Laura focusing on the pasta and you keeping an eye on the sauce. It wasn’t long before the kitchen started to smell of tomatoes and garlic, the scent filling the air and making the small space feel cozy. For a while, the only sounds were the bubbling pot and the clinking of utensils.

Logan shifted on the couch, clearing his throat. “Need me to do anything?”

You glanced back at him with a smile. “Just sit there and look pretty, Logan. We’ve got this.”

A low chuckle escaped him, though his face didn’t change much. “That so?”

Laura glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, but you caught the briefest hint of approval in her eyes before she turned back to stirring the pasta.

Once everything was ready, you and Laura brought the food to the small dining table. You plated up the spaghetti, topping it with sauce and a sprinkle of Parmesan. Logan joined you both, moving slower than he probably realized, and sat down with a grunt.

As you all ate, the room stayed comfortably quiet. It wasn’t one of those forced silences that felt awkward—it was more like everyone was just settling into the moment. Laura was still guarded, but you could tell she was starting to relax, even if it was just a little.

“You did good, Laura,” you said, twirling some spaghetti on your fork. “This tastes great.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept eating, but you saw her shoulders ease up ever so slightly.

Logan, on the other hand, glanced between the two of you, chewing slowly. He hadn’t been big on cooking or anything domestic like this, but he could tell Laura had put in effort. He took another bite, grunting his approval. “Not bad,” he said quietly.

You smiled to yourself. This whole thing wasn’t exactly what you’d planned for the evening, but it was nice in its own way—just simple, like normal people having dinner together.

As you were finishing up, Logan pushed his chair back, grabbing his beer bottle from the table. “I’ll handle the cleanup,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

You raised an eyebrow, standing to gather a few plates. “You sure?”

Logan waved you off. “Yeah. Laura and I got it.”

You nodded, stepping back. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”

Laura watched you quietly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Logan. You could tell she wasn’t used to this kind of thing, the casual ease of sharing a meal and cleaning up afterward. But she was learning, and it seemed like she didn’t mind having you around for it.

“Well,” you said, grabbing your bag from the chair. “Thanks for dinner, you two. I’ll see you around?”

Logan grunted in acknowledgment, giving you a nod. Laura followed you to the door, her small figure standing by your side as you reached for the handle.

Before you could leave, she spoke up. “Will you come over again?” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

You smiled softly. “Of course. Anytime.”

She nodded, her face still unreadable, but there was a certain calmness to her now, a trust that hadn’t been there before.

You gave her a little wave before stepping out into the evening air. As you walked back to your house, you couldn’t help but think about how unexpected this had all been.

---

You muttered to yourself, hanging up the phone. Your sink had started to leak, and even though you were fairly handy, when you tightened the pipes, it did nothing.

So here you were, on your lunch break, looking for a handyman that didn’t want to charge you $200 for a quick fix.

Emma walked in, holding a folder with her lesson plans. “So…”

You rolled your eyes, “don’t start.”

“What! I’ve told you, word travels fast. Rose saw you leavin’ his house last night.”

“Rose?” You shook your head, “that woman is 85 and still gossips like she’s 20.” You put your phone down, “I was helping Laura with her English homework.”

"Helping Laura with her English homework?" Emma raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "You mean, at ten o'clock at night? Sure, Y/N."

You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “It wasn’t like that. She’s struggling with some of the writing prompts, and Logan’s... well, you know he’s not exactly the best person for that.”

“Uh-huh,” Emma nodded slowly, setting her folder down. “I’m just saying, you and him… there’s something there. You can deny it all you want, but people see things.”

“People need hobbies,” you muttered. “Besides, Logan’s... complicated. It’s not that simple.”

“I’m not saying it is,” she shrugged. “But you’ve been spending more and more time with him and Laura lately. I’m just curious.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “Curious about what, exactly?”

“Just curious when you're going to admit you like him,” Emma smirked.

“I don’t—" you started to argue, but stopped yourself. “Emma, he’s… I mean, I care about him, but it’s not like that. He’s a single dad with a kid, and I’m just the neighbor who helps out sometimes.”

“Yeah, sure, Y/N.” Emma grabbed her folder and gave you a pointed look, “if you don’t make a move, someone on the ‘Wolverine Watchers’ will.”

You choked on the iced coffee you took a sip of, “the what?”

Emma grinned, “the ‘Wolverine Watchers’. A bunch of women in the town created a Facebook group about him. I joined out of curiosity.”

You blinked at Emma, still processing what she’d just said. “Hold on—there’s a Facebook group about Logan? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Emma said with a smug smile. “They call themselves the ‘Wolverine Watchers.’ There’s, like, at least 30 women in it. Maybe more.”

You shook your head in disbelief, sinking back into your chair. “That’s insane. Why would anyone even...”

“Oh, please,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it. He’s rugged, mysterious, barely speaks to anyone, and he’s got the whole grumpy-silver-fox thing going on. They eat it up. Hell, even I get it.”

You glared at her. “You’re not helping.”

She leaned against the desk, still grinning. “Just saying, don’t wait too long, or one of them might swoop in.”

You waved her off, though a part of you felt oddly defensive about the whole thing. “Logan’s not interested in any of that.”

Emma shrugged, pushing off the desk and heading for the door. “Maybe. Maybe not. But are you interested?”

You opened your mouth to respond before shaking your head. “Okay. I’m going to forget this part of our conversation and continue to try and look for a plumber or handyman.”

Emma laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Fine, fine. But if you need help with Logan or plumbing, you know where to find me.”

She left the room at the same time Laura walked in. She walked over to the front of your desk and stared at you with those eyes of hers. “You need help?” Laura finally asked.

You shook your head, “no. Just need a plumber. The sink in my kitchen is leakin’.”

Laura tilted her head slightly, considering something. “Why don’t you ask daddy?”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Because your dad’s busy, and it’s not his problem to deal with. I’ll figure it out.”

“He fixed the dishwasher last week,” she pointed out quietly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And the dryer.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to bother him with stuff like this,” you countered, trying to ignore how her face lit up every time she mentioned something Logan had done for you. “I’m sure he’s got enough on his plate.”

Laura didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against your desk, her small fingers tapping lightly on the wood. “He likes helping,” she murmured, almost like she was testing the waters.

You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, but quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the bulletin board behind you. “He’s good at fixing things.”

You watched her for a moment, your irritation from earlier starting to melt away. It was hard to stay frustrated when she was being so earnest. “Okay, okay, I get it. But your dad doesn’t need to be the town’s go-to handyman.”

Laura glanced up at you through her lashes. “Just tell him. Please?”

There was something almost… hopeful in her gaze, and you felt a twinge of guilt. Laura wasn’t the type to ask for much. If this meant that much to her…

“Fine,” you sighed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’ll ask him. But only because you asked nicely.”

Laura’s lips twitched in the faintest smile, a look of victory crossing her face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but you’re not off the hook yet,” you teased gently. “You still owe me an essay on Newton’s laws of motion, remember?”

She scrunched up her nose, making a face. “I know. I’ll finish it.”

“Good,” you nodded, giving her a playful wink. “And don’t go trying to bribe me with homework just to get me to talk to your dad, okay?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I would never.”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Alright, head back to class. Lunch is almost over.”

She gave a small nod, then glanced back at you before leaving. “He really likes you, you know.”

Your heart stuttered, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Laura—”

“Just saying,” she added quickly before ducking out the door and heading down the hallway.

You stared at the empty doorway, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Liking you? What did that even mean coming from an eleven-year-old?

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. Logan was… well, Logan. Gruff, quiet, and often impossible to read. And sure, he’d been more present lately, but that didn’t mean anything. He was just being a good neighbor.

You glanced at the time on your phone, groaning softly. Lunch was almost over, and you hadn’t even finished setting up for the afternoon class.

“Guess I’ll ask him about the sink,” you muttered under your breath, more to convince yourself than anything.

Because if Laura was already noticing things, how long would it be before the whole town started talking?

---

That evening, after school had ended and you’d finally managed to get through the rest of your lesson plans, you found yourself standing in front of Logan’s place. It was only a short walk down the street, and yet, your feet felt heavier with each step.

You could hear the faint sound of a TV through the open window and the soft murmur of voices—Laura and Logan, probably talking about her day. It was… nice. Domestic. Something that made your chest tighten with an inexplicable emotion.

“Just ask about the sink and go,” you whispered to yourself, giving a firm nod. “No big deal.”

You knocked lightly, and a few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Logan. He was in his usual attire—flannel shirt, jeans—and he looked at you with that same unreadable expression.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. “I, uh, wanted to ask for a favor.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. “What’s goin’ on?”

You hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My kitchen sink started leaking, and… well, I tried fixing it, but I think I made it worse. Laura said you’re good at this kind of stuff, so I thought… maybe…”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You want me to take a look at it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “If you’re not too busy. I don’t want to—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, already grabbing a toolbox from a nearby shelf. “Let’s go.”

You blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to, like, finish dinner or something first?”

He shot you a look that was almost amused. “I’m not gonna let your kitchen flood because of a sink. C’mon.”

You let out a small laugh, relieved by his reaction. “Okay, fair point. Thanks, Logan.”

“No problem,” he grunted, stepping out onto the porch. “Lead the way.”

As you walked back to your place, you stole a glance at him. Logan might have been gruff and intimidating to most people, but you’d come to learn there was more to him than that.

When you reached your house, Logan set to work immediately, inspecting the pipes under the sink. You leaned against the counter, watching as he tinkered and adjusted, his movements methodical and precise.

“You didn’t have to come over right away,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

He didn’t look up, just shrugged. “It’s fine. Better to fix it now than let it get worse.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “But still… thanks.”

Logan glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than usual. “You don’t gotta thank me every time I do somethin’ for you, Y/N.”

“I know,” you replied, offering a small smile. “But I want to.”

He gave a low grunt, something between acknowledgment and dismissal, and returned his focus to the pipes. You stayed silent, watching him work, trying to make yourself useful by occasionally handing him a tool or holding a flashlight.

“You’ve done this before, huh?” you asked, breaking the silence again.

Logan didn’t look up, but you saw the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Couple times.”

“Fixing sinks?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Or just everything?”

“Everything,” he muttered. “You learn to handle stuff when no one else can.”

There was an unspoken weight behind his words, something you didn’t pry into. You knew Logan had been through more than he let on—there were pieces of his life you still hadn’t put together, and you weren’t sure you ever would. But that didn’t stop you from being curious.

Instead, you chose to keep the conversation light. “Well, I appreciate it. I probably would’ve made a bigger mess if I’d kept trying.”

He grunted again, this time almost in agreement, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, I walked into that one,” you admitted. “But seriously, thank you. Laura was right—you are good at this.”

Logan tightened the last pipe and stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “She talks too much sometimes.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “She’s just proud of you.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes darkening for a brief moment before he shifted the subject. “It’s done. Shouldn’t leak anymore, but if it does, just call me.”

You nodded, feeling that strange tightening in your chest again. “Got it. Thanks again.”

Logan grabbed his toolbox and started for the door, but something in the air between you both felt unfinished, like there was something unspoken hanging there. Before you could second-guess yourself, you called out.

“Logan?”

He paused, his back to you.

“I meant what I said earlier,” you continued, a little more quietly this time. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to add to it. But I appreciate you helping me.”

Logan turned, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place. For a second, you thought he might say something, but then he just gave a slow nod.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he finally said. “If you need somethin’, I’ll be around.”

He turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in your kitchen, staring after him. You exhaled, feeling a mix of confusion and warmth.

Later that evening, as you cleaned up and prepared for the next day’s lessons, you couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in your head. Logan’s quietness, his willingness to help, Laura’s knowing smiles. There was something stirring there, something more than just neighborly concern.

But you pushed the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the practicalities. Logan was a single dad with a complicated past, and you… well, you had your own life to focus on. This wasn’t the time to start overthinking things.

Still, as you drifted off to sleep that night, the image of Logan fixing your sink—focused, calm, and oddly comforting—stayed with you.

---

You’ve never liked storms. You’re not sure why, you grew up in Houston where it rained consistently and encountered a few hurricanes.

But when you turned 18, you went to college further north in Texas, getting away from the rain and finally getting sunshine and real heat, not humid heat.

It never rained much in the north of Minnesota, but when it did rain, it rained a lot. So much so that the school cancelled classes for the rest of the week.

You could use the time to catch up on grading assignments, but instead you found yourself barely able to keep your attention on the TV, flinching every time you heard thunder.

The storm outside raged on, lightning flashing every few seconds, followed by the rumble of thunder that rattled the windows. You glanced at the stack of papers you’d set aside to grade, but your mind just wasn’t in it.

“Why does it always feel worse at night?” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to focus on the TV.

Then, a knock at the door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially with the weather this bad.

You got up, hesitating for a second before opening the door to reveal Laura, soaked from head to toe, holding a small flashlight.

“Laura? What are you doing out here?” you asked, eyes wide with concern.

“Our power went out,” she explained quickly, shivering slightly. “Daddy said I could come over here since your lights are still on.”

You frowned, glancing past her toward Logan’s house, which was barely visible in the heavy rain. “Is your dad coming over too?”

Laura shrugged, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “He said he’d figure it out.”

You closed the door behind her, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and handing it to her. “You should’ve just called, you know. I would’ve come to get you.”

Laura gave you a small smile as she dried off. “It’s fine. I didn’t want to wait.”

You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at her stubbornness. “Of course you didn’t.”

The two of you sat in the living room for a while, Laura settling into the corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, still glancing out the window at the storm every so often.

“How long’s the power been out?” you asked after a few minutes.

“Since just after dinner,” she replied. “Daddy was gonna try and fix it, but he said it might take a while.”

You nodded, already feeling a little guilty. If the power didn’t come back on soon, you’d probably end up with both of them staying over. Not that you minded, but it was one of those situations where you didn’t want to impose. Especially with Logan.

Almost on cue, there was another knock at the door, this one heavier, more deliberate.

You didn’t even have to look to know it was Logan.

You opened the door to find him standing there, drenched like Laura had been. His hair was plastered to his head, and his usual gruff expression was softened slightly by the rain dripping from his face.

“Come on in,” you said quickly, stepping aside.

Logan entered, shaking off some of the rain before giving you a nod. “Thanks. Power’s out, and I don’t think it’s comin’ back anytime soon.”

You closed the door behind him and offered him a towel, which he accepted without a word. He glanced over at Laura, who had made herself comfortable on the couch, and then back at you.

“You alright with us bein’ here?” he asked, his voice low but genuine.

“Of course,” you replied, waving it off. “I’m not gonna let you sit in the dark with no heat.”

Logan nodded, though there was something in his eyes—something like gratitude, though he didn’t voice it.

The three of you sat in the living room for a while, the storm still raging outside. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable silence, but it wasn’t awkward either. Just... quiet. Logan wasn’t one for small talk, and Laura seemed content just to be around people, her gaze flicking back and forth between you and her dad.

As the night wore on, the storm didn’t let up, and Laura’s eyelids started to droop. You glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting.

“You’re welcome to stay the night,” you offered, glancing between them. “It’s still coming down pretty hard out there, and I don’t think the power’s coming back on soon.”

Laura perked up at the suggestion, but Logan hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “We’ll be fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t wanna impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “There’s a guest bedroom, and I’ve got blankets. Besides, I’m not letting either of you walk back in this mess.”

Laura, sensing her opportunity, chimed in before Logan could object. “I want to stay,” she said quietly, her eyes big and hopeful.

Logan sighed, glancing at his daughter, clearly torn. “Laura…”

“Daddy, it’s still storming,” she added, her voice soft but insistent. “We can stay, right?”

You jumped in before he could refuse. “It’s no trouble, Logan. Really. Laura can take the guest bedroom, and I can sleep on the couch.”

Logan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not sleepin’ on the couch in your own house.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s your bed,” he grunted. “I’ll take the couch.”

Before you could argue, Laura piped up again, her voice full of innocent mischief. “You could both sleep in the bed.”

Your eyes widened, and you quickly glanced at Logan, whose expression had shifted to one of slight surprise.

“Laura,” you started, but she just shrugged, clearly enjoying this more than she should have been.

“What?” she said innocently. “It’s a big bed.”

Logan sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re not helpin’, kid.”

Laura just grinned, her eyes gleaming with quiet victory. “I think I am.”

You cleared your throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m fine with sleepin’ on the couch, really. Can’t really sleep when it’s stormin’ anyways.”

Laura, still lounging on the couch, piped up again, her grin growing wider. “You could just share the bed.”

Your face flushed, and you shot her a look. “Laura—”

“What?” She shrugged, playing innocent, but you could see the hint of mischief in her eyes.

Logan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kid, stop messin’ around.”

She held up her hands in surrender, but the teasing smile on her face didn’t budge. “I’m just saying it’s an option.”

You shook your head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Laura, you’re gonna sleep in the guest room. I’ll be on the couch. End of story.”

Laura rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine.”

Logan glanced at you, his eyes softening for a brief moment before he muttered, “You sure about this? I don’t wanna take your bed.”

You waved him off, trying to sound casual. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just get some rest. You’ve been out in the rain long enough.”

He hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. “Alright. But only because you won’t stop arguin’.”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling a little as you grabbed an extra blanket from the hallway closet and tossed it to Laura. “You can get settled in the guest room, kiddo.”

Laura caught the blanket and headed toward the guest room with a little bounce in her step, clearly pleased with how things were turning out. You watched her disappear down the hallway before turning back to Logan, who was still standing in the living room, looking somewhat out of place.

“You can leave your wet clothes by the door if you want,” you offered, trying to keep things normal, even though the situation felt anything but.

Logan gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, pulling off his soaked jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. He moved slowly, like he was still debating whether to argue about the sleeping arrangements again, but thankfully, he didn’t.

After a minute, he glanced back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You really are stubborn, you know that?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you toward your bedroom. “Fair enough.”

Once he disappeared into the room, you let out a small sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was... not how you expected your night to go. Sharing your house with both Logan and Laura during a storm, with Laura sneakily playing matchmaker. It was almost funny, if not for the fact that Logan being this close made your heart race a little too much for comfort.

You settled back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over yourself and staring at the TV screen without really watching it. The sound of rain pounding against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder filled the quiet, but it was hard to focus on the storm when you knew Logan was in the next room.

Laura had probably planned this all along.

You glanced toward the hallway where the guest room was, wondering if she was already asleep—or if she was lying there, scheming her next move.

Thunder broke you out of your thoughts, making you flinch slightly under the blankets.

You settled deeper into the couch, but sleep wasn’t coming any easier despite the exhaustion from the day. Your mind kept wandering, mostly back to Logan and how natural it had started to feel having him and Laura around. Maybe a little too natural.

A sharp crack of thunder rattled the windows, and you flinched again, instinctively pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You’d thought you were getting used to storms, but this one was relentless, dragging on with no signs of easing up.

Just when you started to think you’d be up all night, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. You turned, expecting to see Laura coming out of the guest room, but instead, Logan stood there in the dim light of the living room, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady, despite the storm.

He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “Not used to sleepin’ anywhere but my own bed.”

You nodded, biting back a knowing smile. “Yeah, I get that. Storm’s not helping much either.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the window, then back to you. His gaze was a little softer than usual, like the storm had taken some of the edge off his usual roughness. “You alright? Heard you jumpin’ every time the thunder hits.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his concern. “It’s nothing. Just... not a fan of storms.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Logan said, stepping further into the room. He hesitated for a moment, then moved to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Don’t have to tough it out, y’know.”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be this open, to offer any sort of comfort. He usually kept things buried under layers of gruffness and distance.

“Guess I’m just used to toughing it out,” you said softly, offering him a small smile.

Logan studied you for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You don’t always have to. Not with us.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to say. This side of Logan—the quiet, protective side—was something you’d only seen glimpses of before, but tonight, it was like the storm had brought down some of his walls.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you finally said, but your voice lacked its usual conviction.

“Not worryin’,” Logan replied, his gaze steady. “Just statin’ a fact.”

The thunder rolled again, quieter this time, as if the storm was finally starting to let up. Logan’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, before he stood up, looking like he was about to head back to the bedroom.

But then he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “If you want... there’s room in the bed.”

Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, not sure if you heard him right. “What?”

Logan’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but his expression remained serious. “I ain’t suggestin’ what Laura was earlier,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “Just... if it helps you sleep better, I don’t mind. Couch’s not exactly comfortable.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. Logan wasn’t the type to offer comfort lightly, and the idea of sharing a bed with him—platonically or not—made your pulse quicken.

“I—” You faltered, unsure how to respond. But something in the way he was looking at you made it clear this wasn’t just about the storm or being polite. This was about something more—something that had been quietly building between the two of you for a while now.

Before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay.”

Logan’s eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by your answer. He stepped aside as you stood, grabbing the blanket from the couch. Neither of you said anything as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom, the tension thick but not uncomfortable—more like an understanding had settled between you.

Once inside, Logan shifted awkwardly as you took your side of the bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, trying to act like this was normal, like your heart wasn’t racing in your chest. Logan laid down on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance, though the bed felt smaller with him in it.

The sound of the rain outside softened, though the occasional rumble of thunder still rolled in the distance. You stared at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Logan beside you, the space between you feeling charged.

“You good?” Logan asked after a minute, his voice low in the quiet.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Thanks,” you added, not just for offering the bed, but for being there, for not making this weird.

Logan turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. “Ain’t nothin’.”

But it was something. It was a lot, actually.

You both lay there in silence for a while, the sound of the rain becoming almost soothing. You could feel the warmth of him next to you, solid and reassuring, and slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, Logan’s voice broke the silence again, so quiet you almost missed it.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice gruff but sincere. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Not with us around.”

Your heart swelled, a mix of emotions you weren’t quite ready to confront just yet. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his in the small space between you.

Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled gently around yours, his grip warm and steady.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you fell asleep without flinching at the sound of thunder.

---

You woke up to the sound of soft rain pattering against the window, the storm from last night finally easing up. For a second, you forgot where you were, until you felt the weight of the blanket and the warmth of another presence next to you. Logan. His steady breathing filled the quiet space, and you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.

This was new.

You glanced over at him, his face relaxed in sleep, the tension he usually carried nowhere to be found. It was strange seeing him like this—calm, almost peaceful. You could feel the residual warmth from his hand where he’d held yours last night, and the memory made your chest tighten.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of quiet. You padded out into the hallway, stopping by Laura’s room to peek in. She was still asleep, wrapped up in blankets, her small body barely a lump under the covers.

You smiled to yourself, already suspecting that she had something to do with last night’s sleeping arrangements. Laura was too clever for her own good sometimes.

In the kitchen, you started brewing coffee, the scent filling the small space. As you waited for it to finish, you found yourself staring out the window, your mind still on Logan. Last night had been... unexpected. But not unwelcome. The way he’d stayed close, offering comfort without making a big deal out of it—it meant more than you wanted to admit.

The soft creak of footsteps behind you pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You’re up early,” Logan’s gravelly voice broke the quiet.

You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his hair still a little mussed from sleep, but otherwise looking much like his usual self.

“Couldn’t sleep much after the storm,” you shrugged, offering him a small smile. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, moving to sit at the kitchen table. “Thanks.”

You poured two mugs, setting one in front of him before taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sipping your coffee in the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Logan glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his eyes softer than usual. “You sleep alright?”

You hesitated, remembering how easily you’d fallen asleep next to him. “Better than I expected, honestly.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess the storm wasn’t as bad as you thought.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. “Or maybe it was the company.”

Logan’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on you again. “Thanks for lettin’ us stay. Laura didn’t give you much choice, huh?”

“She didn’t have to,” you replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t gonna let either of you stay in a freezing house with no power.”

Logan nodded, his eyes drifting to the window. “Power should be back on soon. I’ll head back once it’s up.”

You didn’t say anything, but part of you felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. You hadn’t had many moments like this—quiet, with just the two of you—and you found yourself wanting it to last a little longer.

Laura’s quiet footsteps broke the silence as she padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Mornin’, kid,” Logan greeted her.

“Mornin’,” Laura mumbled, glancing between the two of you with a knowing look before plopping down at the table. “Is the power back on yet?”

“Not yet,” you said, trying to ignore the way she was eyeing you and Logan.

Laura just shrugged, grabbing the cereal box from the counter and helping herself. “Guess we’re stuck here a little longer, huh?”

You shot her a look, but she didn’t seem fazed, her focus on her cereal. It was hard to tell if she was playing innocent or if she was just that good at pretending.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.

Laura perked up at that. “You said you’d help me with my English homework, remember?”

You blinked. “I—uh, right. Yeah, I did say that.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at Laura. “Since when do you need help with English?”

Laura shot him a quick look before turning back to you, all smiles. “I figured Ms. Aberra would be better at explaining it than you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, starting to catch on. “I’m sure you’re doing fine in English, Laura.”

She shrugged, playing with her spoon. “Yeah, but it’s better when someone explains it.”

Logan just shook his head, clearly not buying it either, but he didn’t say anything, letting Laura’s little game play out.

“Well,” you said, getting up from the table. “I guess we can take a look at it after breakfast.”

Laura grinned, clearly pleased with how things were going. “Thanks, Ms. Aberra.”

You smiled back, even though you knew something was up. Sure, you had been helping her with English homework for a while now, but she didn’t need the help. When she would show you her essays or answers to questions about a reading, they were always perfect. Still, you played along, grabbing your coffee and heading toward the living room.

“Alright,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at her. “Go grab your stuff, and we’ll take a look.”

Laura jumped up, cereal forgotten, and dashed off to retrieve her things. You settled onto the couch, sipping your coffee and trying to push aside the strange feeling that this was part of something bigger. But what?

Logan followed you into the living room, sitting down in the worn armchair opposite you. He gave you a look—one eyebrow slightly raised, lips set in that half-smirk he sometimes wore when he was figuring someone out.

“She really roped you into this, huh?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to kids asking for help with schoolwork.”

“Yeah, but Laura? She doesn’t ask for help unless she’s got some kind of angle.”

You laughed softly, but the truth of his words settled somewhere in the back of your mind. Laura wasn’t just a smart kid—she was calculating. You’d seen it in class and at home. The way she observed things, the way she always seemed to know what was going on, even when no one said a word.

“I guess I’ll find out,” you said, leaning back into the couch.

Before Logan could reply, Laura returned, a small notebook and a pencil in hand. She sat beside you, flipping it open to a random page. You glanced at the page, immediately noticing that it was filled with neat, almost perfect handwriting. The essay she’d written didn’t have a single correction or revision mark.

“Alright,” you began, pretending you didn’t see the perfection in front of you. “What do you need help with?”

Laura handed the notebook over, her face perfectly serious. “I just wanted to know if the introduction’s strong enough.”

You skimmed through the first paragraph, and honestly, it was better than anything you’d expect from a sixth grader. If anything, it felt more like she was testing you than asking for actual feedback.

“It’s good,” you said slowly. “Your thesis is clear, and you have a strong opening sentence. You might want to make the transition to your first point a little smoother, but overall, it’s solid.”

Laura nodded thoughtfully, pretending to make a note in her notebook. You watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what game she was playing. There was no way she needed your help, but for some reason, she wanted you here. And Logan, too.

Logan just sat quietly, watching the two of you like he wasn’t quite sure what was happening either. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, fingers tapping lightly. You could feel his presence, steady and grounding, even when he wasn’t saying anything.

Laura glanced at her dad. “Ms. Aberra’s a pretty good teacher, don’t you think?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk back in full force. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

You gave Laura a suspicious look. “You’re not just buttering me up for extra credit, are you?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “No. I just like the way you explain things.”

“Mhm.” You weren’t buying it, but it was hard not to laugh.

The quiet hung between you all for a moment, just the sound of the rain outside and the occasional scrape of Laura’s pencil against her notebook. It felt… peaceful, despite the nagging feeling that something was going on beneath the surface.

“Alright, well,” you finally said, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Looks like you’ve got this handled, Laura. I don’t think you need much help.”

Laura blinked up at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks anyway.”

You caught the look she sent Logan’s way, and suddenly, it clicked. She didn’t need your help with homework—she was just trying to get you to stick around a little longer. Maybe even trying to give you and Logan more time together.

Smart kid.

Logan, of course, said nothing, just watching you with that unreadable expression he wore so well. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, and it both frustrated and intrigued you.

"So," Laura said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What’s the plan today?"

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one with the notebook full of perfect essays. I thought you had plans."

Laura grinned at that, not even trying to hide it anymore. "I was thinking we could all go out for lunch. Since we’re stuck here."

Logan gave her a look, but didn’t say anything, clearly seeing through her. You stifled a laugh, playing along. "Lunch, huh? You paying?"

Laura shrugged, looking way too pleased with herself. "I’ll ask nicely. Maybe you’ll cover it."

You shook your head, pretending to think it over. "Might be able to swing it."

Logan snorted. "Real generous of you."

"Hey, I’m a teacher. Gotta budget wisely," you shot back, smirking at him.

Laura just smiled, clearly happy with how things were going, and it hit you again—she was definitely playing matchmaker. Subtle, but it was there. Not that you minded. Spending more time with Logan wasn’t exactly a hardship.

Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on you, though. "You’re sure you don’t mind us hanging around?"

You tilted your head, genuinely surprised. "Logan, if I minded, I wouldn’t have let you in. You’re both always welcome here."

For a second, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just gave a slow nod, like he was accepting it—maybe even appreciating it, though he’d never say that out loud. "Thanks."

You shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though you knew it kind of was. "Don’t mention it."

Laura got up, stretching her arms over her head before grabbing her empty bowl. "I’ll go get ready for lunch then," she said, already heading to the sink. "I’m starving."

You watched her go, then turned back to Logan, raising an eyebrow. "Think we’ve got time for that before the power comes back on?"

Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. "Could be out a while longer."

"Convenient," you muttered, though there was no real bite to it.

Logan chuckled, a low, rough sound that made something in your chest tighten. He set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood up, stretching slightly. "Guess we better make sure the kid doesn’t eat the place out of food while we wait."

You laughed, following him into the kitchen. The dynamic between the three of you felt easy now, comfortable in a way that surprised you. Even with Laura’s not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, there was something natural about how you and Logan were around each other. It wasn’t rushed or forced. Just... right.

Laura appeared from the hallway, already dressed and tugging on her jacket. "Ready when you are," she said, a little too cheerfully.

Logan gave her a look. "We haven’t even decided where we’re going."

"I’ll leave that up to the grown-ups," she said, grabbing her shoes.

You exchanged a glance with Logan, both of you clearly thinking the same thing: this kid was way too clever for her own good. But neither of you called her out on it.

"Alright," Logan finally said, grabbing his jacket. "Let’s get going before the power comes back and ruins her plan."

Laura grinned but didn’t say anything, grabbing your hand as you all headed out into the damp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped, but the sky was still overcast, a soft, gray light filtering through the clouds.

You walked beside Logan, Laura skipping a few steps ahead, her eyes darting around like she was taking everything in. She was always like that—watching, observing. And now you knew why. She was playing a long game, slowly pushing you and Logan closer together, little by little.

You couldn’t help but smile. She was good. Really good.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to appreciate her efforts.

---

The school did something special for parents on Valentine’s Day. Instead of just handing out donuts or cupcakes, they did a competition.

There was different challenges for each couple, or pairing, to finish, and to make it even better, their kids would have to guide them on certain challenges, like walking blindfolded to the finish line on the field.

Emma glanced over at you as you were going through the list of parent’s names, making sure everyone had a partner. There were a few single parents, so you had to figure out who they should be paired with. But there was an odd number, one parent would have to sit out.

“So… who’s sitting out?” Emma asked, leaning on the desk next to you. She had that casual curiosity in her tone, but you knew she was just as invested in making sure things ran smoothly as you were.

You chewed your lip, staring at the list. “Looks like we’ve got one extra parent. I’m not sure yet.”

Emma peeked over your shoulder, scanning the names. “What about Logan?”

You paused, looking at the list. Logan’s name was there, as was Laura’s, but you hesitated. He wasn’t exactly the type to jump into school events, especially one that involved blindfolds and teamwork. And while he’d been involved in Laura’s life, you weren’t sure he’d want to participate in something like this.

“Yeah, guess he can sit out. We have an odd number of parents anyways.” You put down the clipboard and looked at the empty donut box, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go to the other room and get another box.”

As you moved toward the door, you noticed Laura sitting quietly in the corner, fiddling with her notebook, watching everything with that usual sharpness in her eyes. She had been quiet all morning, almost too quiet. You gave her a smile before heading to the break room, still feeling a little awkward about pairing up the parents.

Emma stayed behind, her eyes flicking between you and Laura, a slight smirk tugging at her lips like she was onto something.

You weaved through the hallway, your mind still on the whole situation. These parent events were always a little tricky when it came to single parents. You knew Logan wasn’t exactly the type to jump into the school scene, especially for something like a Valentine’s Day competition, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he’d want to give it a shot for Laura.

Grabbing the donut box, you paused for a second. The idea of Logan being there today, paired up with someone else, didn’t sit right. Not that you had any reason to feel that way. It was just... Logan. You weren’t even sure if he’d show up.

When you returned to the room, Laura was still sitting there, now scribbling something in her notebook. She glanced up as you entered, her expression neutral but her eyes watching you closely.

“Everything okay?” you asked, setting the fresh box on the table and moving to grab the clipboard again.

Laura nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“Thinking about the competition?” You smiled, trying to make conversation, but she just gave you a vague shrug.

“Something like that.”

Emma glanced at you, her smirk still there as she made a little noise of amusement. “Logan didn’t strike me as the ‘competition’ type. But who knows?”

You shot her a look, but before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan walked in. Speak of the devil. He looked around, taking in the sight of parents getting ready, kids buzzing with excitement. His eyes landed on you, and he gave a short nod, his usual gruff greeting.

“You’re here,” you said, surprised, trying to keep your voice casual. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his hands in his pockets. “Laura signed us up. Thought I’d better show.”

Laura, sitting nearby, perked up but kept her face mostly neutral. She wasn’t about to blow her cover, not yet anyway.

“Right,” you said, glancing down at the clipboard. “Well, there’s an odd number of parents, so... I was thinking maybe you’d sit out.”

Laura, quick as ever, jumped in. “Or you could partner with someone else.”

You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess, but we don’t really have—”

“You could partner with Daddy.” Laura said it so simply, like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t been plotting this for weeks.

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between the two of you, clearly realizing what his daughter was doing, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

You stammered a bit, caught completely off guard. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”

Laura gave you a look, one that said she knew exactly what she was doing. “It’s just for the competition. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to you again, and this time, there was a slight smirk on his face. “It’s just a game, right? We’ll survive.”

Emma, watching the whole thing play out, was trying very hard not to laugh. “Looks like you’re stuck with Logan, Y/N.”

You felt a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. It was one thing to think about spending time with Logan, but being thrown into a school competition with him—especially with Laura being the mastermind behind it—was another.

“Okay, fine,” you muttered, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal at all. “I guess we’ll partner up.”

Logan just gave a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s get this over with.”

Laura’s eyes practically sparkled with victory as she hopped up from her seat, already heading toward the field where the first challenge would take place. You followed, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but it was impossible with Logan right next to you.

As you reached the field, the first task was announced: a three-legged race. Of course. Out of all the challenges, it had to be this one. You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ropes being handed out for the pairs to tie their legs together.

"This should be interesting," Logan muttered under his breath, taking one of the ropes and holding it out for you.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your nerves behind a smile. "I feel like this is a recipe for disaster."

Logan’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Only if you don’t keep up."

"Me?" You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to tie the rope around your ankle and his. "You’re the one with the bum leg."

Logan grunted, not arguing, though his usual swagger was still intact. "I’ll manage."

Laura stood off to the side, watching with a faint smile, clearly enjoying the show. You could tell she was pleased with herself, and part of you was too, even if you were trying to act like this was no big deal.

"Alright, ready?" Logan asked, standing up straighter after securing the rope.

"As I’ll ever be," you replied, trying to gauge the best way to navigate the race without falling flat on your face.

The whistle blew, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly hopping forward, one leg bound to Logan’s as you tried to find some sort of rhythm. The first few steps were disastrous—Logan’s longer strides making it nearly impossible for you to keep pace without stumbling.

"Slow down!" you laughed, grabbing his arm to steady yourself as you nearly tripped.

Logan smirked, his hand quickly coming to your waist to keep you from toppling over. "You gotta move faster than that, Y/N."

"Or maybe you need to move slower!" you shot back, trying to adjust your steps to match his. After a few shaky moments, you finally found a rhythm, the two of you moving in sync—well, mostly. Logan’s hand lingered at your waist, steadying you as you both half-hopped, half-laughed your way toward the finish line.

"Not bad," Logan grunted as you crossed the line, not quite first, but definitely not last either.

"Not bad?" You shot him a look, still a little breathless from laughing. "I’m pretty sure we almost face-planted three times."

"Could’ve been worse," he replied with a shrug, that smirk of his still in place.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart was still racing—though you weren’t sure if it was from the race or from the fact that Logan had kept his arm around your waist longer than necessary.

Laura, waiting at the sidelines, gave you both a knowing look as you untied the rope. "You guys were pretty good," she commented casually, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.

"Pretty good?" you echoed, shooting her a playful glare. "We almost ate dirt, Laura."

Logan grunted in agreement but didn’t say much, just shaking his head as he rubbed his leg a bit. You noticed the slight grimace that flashed across his face—something you hadn’t seen often, but it was there for just a moment before he covered it up.

"Next challenge is... egg balancing," Emma announced from the other end of the field, holding up a spoon and a carton of eggs.

You and Logan exchanged a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, this’ll be fun."

Logan just sighed, clearly less than thrilled about the prospect of trying to balance an egg on a spoon, but he didn’t protest. You handed him one of the spoons as you lined up for the next round.

"You got a steady hand?" you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Logan glanced at the spoon, then back at you. "Steadier than yours, probably."

"Let’s see about that," you shot back, placing the egg carefully on your spoon. The whistle blew, and you both started across the field, trying to keep the fragile eggs from toppling off. You had to admit, Logan had a surprising amount of focus for a guy who usually looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Not bad for an old man," you joked, glancing over at him as you both carefully moved toward the finish line.

"Careful, Y/N. That’s how you get egg on your face," Logan muttered, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.

Just as you were nearing the end, Laura darted over, watching closely. "Come on, you guys can do it!"

It was hard to ignore the pride in her voice—she was definitely enjoying watching you two work together. And maybe, despite the ridiculousness of it all, you were too.

By the time you finished, both of your eggs still intact, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. It was silly, sure, but being paired with Logan for these goofy challenges wasn’t as awkward as you thought it might be. In fact, it was... kind of nice.

"Two for two," Logan said with a smirk, handing his spoon back as the event wrapped up.

"Don’t get too cocky," you replied, bumping his arm lightly as you handed yours in too. "We’ll see how you do with the next one."

Laura appeared beside you again, her eyes bright. "You guys make a good team."

You gave her a sideways glance, trying not to read too much into her words. "Yeah, well, it’s all about teamwork, right?"

Logan didn’t say anything, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and there was something there—something unspoken that made your heart skip a beat.

The rest of the day went by in a blur of silly games and laughter, and by the time the event was over, you were exhausted, but in the best way possible. Logan had stayed the whole time, never complaining or trying to bow out early. Laura, of course, was thrilled with how things had turned out, and you couldn’t help but feel like she had succeeded in whatever plan she had been cooking up.

As the parents and kids started to trickle out of the school, you found yourself standing beside Logan near the door. Laura had already run ahead to grab her things, leaving the two of you alone for a moment.

"Thanks for sticking around," you said, glancing up at him. "I know this probably wasn’t your idea of a fun day."

Logan shrugged, his usual nonchalant expression in place. "Wasn’t so bad."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m glad you came. Laura seemed to really enjoy it."

"Yeah," Logan agreed, his gaze softening slightly as he looked in the direction where Laura had run off. "She’s a good kid."

"She is," you said, nodding. "And she’s lucky to have you."

Logan didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Thanks."

There was a brief silence between you, the air charged with something unspoken but palpable. Before you could say anything else, Laura came bounding back, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Ready to go?" she asked, looking between the two of you with that same knowing glint in her eyes.

"Yeah," Logan said, ruffling her hair lightly. "Let’s get outta here."

As they started to head for the door, Logan paused, glancing back at you. "See you around, Y/N."

"Yeah," you replied, feeling your heart skip again. "See you around, Logan."

---

It had been a few days since the Valentine’s Day event, and things had settled back into routine. You were sitting in your living room, halfway through grading papers, when there was a knock on your door.

Opening it, you found Logan standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," he greeted, voice low. "Laura wanted me to ask if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. Just... thought it’d be nice."

You blinked, surprised by the invitation. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to invite people over casually, but something about the way he stood there, slightly awkward, made your heart skip a beat.

"Sure," you said, smiling. "I’d like that."

Dinner at Logan’s place was unexpectedly warm. Laura set the table with care, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected as Logan recounted some old stories about his past. The tension that usually simmered between you felt different tonight—softer, like you were slowly crossing an invisible line you’d both been careful to avoid.

As you helped clear the dishes, your hand brushed against Logan’s, and the brief contact made you pause. He glanced at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a quiet acknowledgment of something building between you.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

“Anytime,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you as you turned to put the plates away. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was hard with Logan standing so close. It was like every time you were around him, you felt like something unspoken hovered between you—something that Laura, in her quiet, clever way, seemed determined to help along.

Laura wandered back into the room, a book in her hands. “Y/N, can you help me with my English homework?” she asked, holding it up and glancing between you and Logan like she hadn’t just interrupted a moment.

You blinked, turning to her with a small smile. “Of course, I can take a look.”

“Great!” Laura said, her voice a little too cheerful. She plopped down on the couch and spread her notebook and book out in front of her. “It’s this essay I’ve got to write.”

Logan lingered by the kitchen counter, his eyes flicking to Laura’s book with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he muttered, and before you could say anything, he was stepping outside, probably to get some fresh air or give you and Laura some space.

You turned your attention back to Laura, still smiling but a bit confused. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”

Laura launched into an explanation, talking about a character analysis she needed to do for class. As you glanced over her notes, though, it struck you that everything was pretty much perfect. Her sentences were clear, her argument made sense, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. Like always, it was perfect.

“Laura… this is really good,” you said slowly, giving her an impressed look. “I don’t think you need help with this.”

Laura’s face stayed impassive, but you caught a faint hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay,” she said casually, glancing in the direction Logan had gone.

Something clicked then, and you had to suppress a chuckle. So this was just another one of Laura’s little schemes to get you to stick around. You were starting to see the pattern—tiny excuses to keep you close, to get you and Logan in the same room more often. It was subtle, but now that you were catching on, it was impossible to miss.

“Well, your essay’s great,” you said, folding your arms as you gave her a knowing look. “But I think there’s more going on here than just English homework.”

Laura’s gaze stayed steady on yours, and for a moment, you could see a glimpse of something deeper in those eyes—something far beyond her years. “He’s lonely,” she said quietly, so softly that you almost missed it.

Your heart gave a small squeeze at that. It was true that Logan always seemed like a man on the outskirts of everything, never quite fitting in. And you knew he and Laura had been through a lot together, more than most people could imagine. But he wasn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings—or admit he might need someone else in his life.

“Maybe,” you replied gently, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “But that’s something he has to figure out on his own, okay?”

Laura nodded slowly, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “He likes you,” she said, blunt as ever. “And you like him.”

Your cheeks heated, and you glanced away, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t the first time Laura has said something like this. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”

“Why not?” she asked, her brow furrowing like she genuinely didn’t understand.

You struggled to find the right words. How could you explain that things with Logan were complicated—that you weren’t sure where you stood with him, or if there was even a place for you in his life beyond being Laura’s teacher? And yet, every time you were near him, there was this pull, this quiet magnetism that made you wonder.

“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” you admitted finally, feeling a little silly for having this conversation with an eleven-year-old.

Laura’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You won’t.”

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan stepped back inside, his gaze immediately going to the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone gruff but laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you said quickly, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions Laura’s words had stirred up. You stood up, smoothing down your shirt as you gave him a smile. “I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.”

Logan nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost looked like disappointment. “I’ll walk you out.”

He led you to the door, and you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laura. She gave you a small, encouraging smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks again for coming,” Logan said as he opened the door, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Anytime,” you replied, echoing your earlier words as you stepped outside. The cool night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of Logan’s gaze on you.

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like something should be said, but neither of you knew what. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you glanced up at him.

“Logan, I—”

“Y/N, I—”

You both spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a startled laugh.

“You first,” Logan muttered, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I wanted to say that I really enjoyed tonight. And I know Laura’s been… well, playing matchmaker or something,” you added with a chuckle, “but I just want you to know that I’m not—”

“Using her as an excuse to get close?” Logan finished for you, his voice dry but not unkind.

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah.”

Logan stood there, his eyes steady on yours, and for a moment, you both let the silence fill the space between you. He shifted his weight, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit, and for the first time, it felt like he was truly considering what to say next.

"Look, I know Laura's been trying to push things," he said, his voice low and gruff, but gentler than usual. "She's... smart, too smart sometimes. But this—tonight—it wasn’t just about her."

You blinked, surprised by his admission. You weren’t used to Logan being so open, especially about anything personal. He seemed to read the surprise in your face and let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like this was harder for him than any physical fight he’d been in.

"What I mean is," he continued, glancing at the ground before his eyes flicked back up to yours, "it’s not just her, Y/N. I didn’t mind tonight. And that’s not something I say often."

Your breath hitched a little at his words, heart beating a little faster. There was a vulnerability in Logan that you weren’t expecting—a side of him that he clearly didn’t let out much, if at all.

"I didn’t mind it either," you said softly, trying to match his tone, to let him know you weren’t taking this lightly. "And Laura... well, she’s got a way of seeing things."

Logan let out a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that caught you off guard. "Yeah, she does. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good." His eyes softened as he spoke about her, a fondness there that made you smile.

"She just wants you to be happy," you said gently. "And, I guess, maybe me too."

Logan looked at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more here than just a shared concern for Laura. You had always admired Logan’s strength, his quiet loyalty, the way he looked after Laura with such fierce protectiveness. But standing there now, with the night air cool against your skin and Logan’s presence so close, it felt different. More personal.

"You know," Logan said after a long pause, his voice low again, "I don’t exactly have a lot of people in my life. Never been good at that sort of thing. But... you’re good with Laura. And you’re—" He stopped, his jaw tightening for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should say the next part. "You’re good for us."

Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you could feel the weight of what he wasn’t saying—the layers beneath that simple statement. You’re good for us. It wasn’t just about being Laura’s teacher anymore. It was about something more.

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced a smile to keep things light. “Good for you?” you repeated with a slight chuckle. There was an ache there, something that hinted at how much more those words meant coming from Logan—someone who didn’t let people in easily. The way he looked at you, steady and deliberate, made it hard to brush aside. His eyes held yours a little longer than usual, almost daring you to look away.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble, and you couldn’t help but notice how the weight of the night seemed to gather between you, thick in the air. Logan’s usual guarded stance had softened, just enough for you to sense it. He stepped a bit closer, enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, the earthy scent of cigars and the wild outdoors clinging to his skin.

You shifted on your feet, trying to figure out where this was heading, but the flutter in your chest only grew stronger. Something unspoken seemed to pass between you two, like a current beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to reach down and touch it.

“I think Laura’s got something figured out,” you admitted, voice soft as you kept your eyes on him. “She’s smart enough to see what’s happening here.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile. “Yeah, too smart sometimes.” His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up at you, there was something different there—something raw. “But she’s right. You’re good for us. Hell, you’re good for me.” His words carried a weight, a kind of honesty that took you by surprise, even though deep down, you’d been hoping to hear them for a while.

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse quickened. “Logan, I…” You started to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that drew you in.

And then, as if some invisible line snapped, Logan took another step toward you, his rough hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, the touch light but electrifying. “I don’t say things like this often,” he muttered, his voice husky, the growl in it more pronounced now, “but I want you to stay close. For Laura, yeah, but... for me too.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, your body reacting to the closeness of him, the way his hand lingered on your cheek. It wasn’t just the softness in his eyes or the tenderness of his touch, but the way he was looking at you, like he was seeing more than just the surface.

“I’ve wanted to stay close,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, as your hand gently touched his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, like the pull between you was more than just chemistry.

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the cool night air, the sound of distant traffic, even the faint light from inside the house. All that mattered was the closeness, the way you could feel his breath mingling with yours.

Before you knew it, Logan was leaning in, and you closed the gap without thinking. His lips pressed against yours, rough and warm, and everything else just melted away. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but then it deepened, and the heat between you flared like wildfire.

His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you could feel the solid strength of his body as you pressed into him. The kiss was everything you hadn’t let yourself think about for so long—filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

Logan kissed like he lived—intensely, without holding back. His grip on your waist tightened as if he was afraid to let go, and you responded in kind, threading your fingers into the rough texture of his hair. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just the two of you, connected in this raw, unexpected moment.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still ragged.

“I—” you started to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and hoarse.

“Don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t ruin it with words, not yet.”

You nodded, biting back whatever thought was trying to escape. The night air felt cooler now, the warmth of Logan’s body contrasting sharply against it, grounding you in the moment. His hand lingered on your waist, thumb brushing your side, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, like even he was surprised by what just happened.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice quieter than before. “Didn’t think this’d happen,” he admitted, almost to himself.

You gave a soft laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Me either.”

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and he shifted slightly, his hand moving from your waist to gently brush your cheek. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender for him that it made your heart twist a little.

For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. Part of you wanted to step back, to put some distance between you and Logan, to give yourself a chance to think. But another part—the stronger part—wanted to stay right where you were, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the rough edge of his thumb grazing your cheek.

Meanwhile, Laura peeked through the blinds, a smile spreading across her face.

tags: @freythecrazyfae

[sturnioz]

about the one where fratboy!chris doesn't let shy!reader meet his family I THOUGHT ABT SOMETHING

sooo imagine chris's mom otp while he's with reader then reader gets her hopes up thinking chris would somehow mention who he's with right now but he doesn't and it ends up into reader with hurt feelings and chris just being an asshole like it's no big deal

i lowkey wanna be hurt rn GIMME ANGST

you're staring wide eyed at chris, completely captivated at the voice he uses to talk to marylou on the phone — his tone soft and gentle, almost childlike, and he grins at the words she speaks, his eyes twinkling with warmth, causing a smile to creep across your lips.

it's a side of him you've never seen before, and you can't help but feel a flutter of admiration in your chest.

as he walks around his room, his phone cradled in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other, you're stuck watching how tenderly he engages with his mother. his expression constantly shifts between playful to genuine care and adoration.

"yeah, ma. everythin' is good," chris hums softly, placing his phone on the desk and pressing the speaker icon, allowing his mother's voice to fill the room. "classes are good too."

"and how is nick? has he been over recently?"

"y'know nick would rather die than come into the frat house—"

"oh, chris, you know i don't like you saying things like that to me. don't say that."

"sorry, ma," chris apologises sincerely, and you're taken aback by the softness in his tone. it's a complete contrast to the condescending way he usually speaks to you, often laced with sarcasm and mockery. the apology feels so genuine that it makes your heart flutter once more. "he doesn't like it here. prefers to meet up some place else."

"as long as you're seeing each other, that's all that matters," marylou says softly. "'cos your dad and i were worried that you wouldn't spend much time with him with your new living arrangements and all."

"no, no. we're good, we see each other a lot," chris reassures her as he pulls his jeans up his legs, threading his belt through the loops. "you don't need to worry, ma. i promise. we're actually goin' to get dinner tonight. nate's comin' along too."

you knew about the dinner tonight — though you weren't invited of course, you were all too aware of the plans.

"oh, nate," marylou coos softly at the mention of him. "and how is—"

her words are cut off when the book resting in your lap slips from your grasp and falls to the ground with a loud thud, causing chris' head to snap in your direction, momentarily pausing mid-motion.

he then grabs his plain white t-shirt, glaring at you as your lips form a tight-lipped, apologetic smile as you reach down to retrieve the book, your neck and cheeks burning with embarrassment. chris shakes his head at you with a quiet scoff, clearly unimpressed.

"is anyone there with you?" marylou asks curiously, her tone riddled with warmth and inviting.

your heart races as your head shoots up, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you. you take a deep breath, ready to introduce yourself properly, hoping to make a good first impression.

"no. just some dumb frat kid next door makin' noise." chris immediately shuts it down, his tone dismissive, and your smile immediately drops from your face, a wave of discomfort twisting in your stomach and chest.

the disappointment stings more than you expected, and you can't help but feel small under his words. you tune out chris and marylou's conversation now, the warmth you felt just moments ago fading into an ache deep within you. mindlessly, you flip through the pages of you book, the words blurring together as your interest in that simmers too.

you don't even realise chris is saying goodbye to his mom, using a sweet tone that would have definitely made you swoon if you were paying attention. you completely miss the heartfelt 'i miss yous' and 'i love yous' shared between them too.

it's only when you feel the bed dip that your attention snaps back to reality, and you raise your gaze to see chris sitting on the edge, pulling on a pair of white socks before reaching for his black converse.

"m'gonna get matt to take you back to your place," chris announces nonchalantly, as if his earlier words hadn't left an impact. "gotta go that way t'get nick anyways."

"'kay." you reply, trying to keep your tone light.

chris twists his head to peer over his shoulder at you, his fingers busy tying his laces. his brows furrow in confusion as he stares at you. "what?"

you murmur back, "what?"

"whats the matter with you?" he asks, annoyance creeping into his voice. "actin' all weird on me. quieter than usual—"

"why didn't you tell your mom i was with you?" the question slips out before you can even think to stop it, a mix of hurt and vulnerability lacing your words.

chris gives you a look that makes you feel foolish, as if you've just asked the most ridiculous question. "why would i?"

his bluntness stings again, and you feel a flush of embarrassment wash over you. it's not just the question that bothers you; it's the slow realisation that he doesn't see how much you wish to be acknowledged, to be part of his world in a way that feels meaningful — more than a casual hook-up, maybe even as a friend.

you swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. "i just thought... maybe it would be nice, is all."

chris shrugs, turning back to his shoes. "s'not a big deal, kid."

"it is to me." the words slip out before you can hold them back again, a somewhat desperate plea for an understanding.

"why?" he asks immediately, looking back at you once more. "it shouldn't mean shit to you."

"you know my mom," you state. "you... you've spoken to my mom before, and—"

"'cos that was your choice, kid. yeah? 'n this is my choice," he points to his chest to emphasis his words, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race. "y'want me to tell my mom that i've got some girl in my room? have her question shit? nah... i keep my family life separate to what i do here."

his words hit hard. you understand his need for boundaries, but it hurts to feel so easily dismissed, and the ache in your chest deepens. you want to argue back, to make him see your side, but the words catch in your throat and you fall silent,

[mustainegf]

HI ELENA

I have a fic idea where James is the readers stepdad and he finds her dairy and he reads one page that talks about her feelings for him and he confronts her about it and fucks her(btw add any kinks you want idc)

YES YES YESS!!

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: daddy kink, stepdad x stepdaughter, unprotected sex

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘 ²⁰²⁴

With a sigh, I dried my hair, breathing deep with the thick, steamy air from the shower I'd just had. I grabbed a fresh towel and wrapped it around my body, hugging the soft fabric over my curves and tucking it tight before stepping out of the warm bathroom.

On the way back to my room, I smiled as I saw that the lights were turned off in the living room and Kitchen. James must be working late tonight. I'm glad; I don't want to run into him right now.

I padded down the hall before reaching my room and twisting the door open, met with a sight that made my heart stop.

There was my stepfather sitting at my desk chair with his head cocked, one eyebrow raised as he looked through my journal.

I didn't think I had even closed the lid on the book when I was finished writing. I gasped and clapped my hands over my mouth, mortified. "How long have you been there?" I squeaked, not knowing what else to say.

He smirked slightly and chuckled, never once looking away from the page. "A few minutes, sweetie." I could feel the heat creeping up my neck as he said this.

My eyes dropped to the ground and I shuffled closer towards him. I wasn't sure how he'd react if he knew everything I wrote about him, but I wanted to know for certain whether or not he's read it all.

"So," he started, "It seems like you're quite a naughtygirl underneath that shy exterior. Always thinking dirty things..." His voice trailed off.

"I uh..." I whispered, feeling like my legs would give out beneath me any second. I tried to ignore the arousal building between my thighs at the thought of James reading my fantasy.

James only snickered at my reaction, turning back to the pages to read part of it out loud.

"My stepdaddy has his hands on my shoulders,' yeah?" He chuckled again and kept going. ''He pushes me into bed, holding me there while his cock stretches me op-"

I cut him off, my face almost purple with embarrassment. "Wait, stop..."

I pleaded, hoping he wouldn't get too far. But James ignored me and continued, his eyes trailing down to where his fingers slowly traced the letters of each word.

"You want daddyinside you, don't you baby?" James cooed, shutting my book and setting it down.

Before I could answer, he stood and sauntered toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Please don't tell mom," I begged.

A smile appeared across his face as he nodded. "Of course not, sweetie." He let out another chuckle and leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine.

It took every ounce of strength I had not to move forward with him, kiss him back, grind against his erection, beg him to take me right then and there.

With our mouths connected, I couldn't help but whimper softly when his tongue brushed against my bottom lip. James moaned in response, the sound vibrating against my skin.

Our kisses grew more passionate, James' hands roaming across my hips before slipping under the towel to caress my ass.

"Fuck, you are so sexy," James groaned, squeezing my cheeks in his grip. The sensation sent a jolt straight to my core, making me slicken even more.

James sensed this immediately and began rubbing his hand along my slit, smearing my juices everywhere. "Oh God," I cried, arching into his touch.

The warmth of his palm radiated through the thin fabric, heating me up even further. When his index finger found its way to my cit, I nearly lost control.

"Let's get this towel off, hmm?" He snickered.

Taking advantage of my state, he tore the fabric from my chest and threw it onto the floor behind us. Before I could object, he scooped me up in his arms and tossed me onto my bed, following after me quickly.

I was still squirming on top of my sheets when he grabbed hold of my ankles, spreading them apart.

One leg was bent while the other was still flat on the mattress, giving him easy access to me.

Without hesitation, James wasted no time burying his face between my legs, his nose pressed directly on my swollen nub. I screamed loudly, unable to hold myself together anymore.

All thoughts flew from my mind as James devoured me hungrily. I dug my heels into his back, drawing him closer to me, needing his tongue inside me.

"Yeah? You want this? My tongue all up your tight cunt?" James teased, taking his time licking my folds carefully. "Yes!" I breathed, clawing at the covers below me. "You want it bad huh, baby?"

He asked mockingly. James proceeded to tease me mercilessly until I was begging him to stop and please just put his dick inside me already.

After hearing enough, James abandoned my pussy altogether and rose above me, stripping himself off his clothes, bootcut jeans and an old Saxon tee.

Once naked, James positioned himself on top of me, lining his cock up with my entrance. "Do you want this, sweetie?" He asked, beginning to press his way inside me.

I couldn't find words to respond; instead, I only whined, bucking against him, desperate for his length. "Well?" James demanded, slowing down his pace.

"Tell me what you want," he commanded. "I... I want your dick, daddy. Please fuck me," I said desperately. This seemed to excite James because he picked up speed, filling me completely now.

"Fuck! Ohhh, yes," I cried, throwing my head back against the pillow. James' grunts and groans were drowned out by my own cries of ecstasy.

His thrusts grew harder and faster, hitting all of the right spots within me. I clung to him tightly, moving with him as best as I could, relishing in how good he felt buried deep inside me.

Each stroke made my pussy clench tighter and tighter around his thick member. "Damn, you feel amazing," James hissed, lifting one of my legs over his shoulder. The sudden change brought about a wave of intense pleasure, causing me to squeal loudly. "Ahhh! Shit, oh God! Fuck me! Take me!"

I screamed uncontrollably, losing myself completely to the overwhelming feelings coursing through me. There was nothing else except James and his powerful strokes.

"James- daddy!" I squealed, gripping the bedsheets in a white knuckled grasp.

As soon as those two words left my mouth, James's whole demeanor changed, the expression on his face morphing from relaxed to pure lust in an instant.

"Holy shit! You're such a little slut," he growled, pounding into me relentlessly. His declaration sent another jolt of electricity through me, making me even wetter than before if that was possible.

"My dirty little girl aren't cha?" He growled, sucking at my collarbone between thrusts.

"Say it," he demanded. "Yes, sir!" I gasped out, barely able to speak. "That's my girl." James complimented me, slamming his entire being into mine. My eyes rolled back in my head as he fucked me roughly.

"Daddy, I'm gonna - mhpf.." I mumbled over the fabric of the pillow.

I knew I was close but I wanted to last longer for him. Suddenly, James pulled out of me without warning, leaving me aching for more.

"Good job..." he coooed, keeping his forehead on mine as he jerked the final ropes of seed from his shaft, painting my heaving stomach.

I whimpered pathetically as he continued to rub his cum on my skin. Feeling particularly nasty, James trailed a single drop of his hot seed along the side of my breast, smearing it onto my dark nipple.

"You did such a good job, Princess.." he painted.

I swallowed hard, staring wide eyed at his hands as they smoothed their way across my sensitive skin.

They felt so soft compared to his thick cock that had just been inside me.

A shiver ran up my spine as he slowly dragged his hand towards my throat, stopping just shy of touching me there. "Oh... daddy..." I breathed, mesmerized by his actions.

"Y-you came all over me.." I croaked.

"I know, sweetheart. It looks like I'll need to clean you up later. Don't you worry." He whispered, laying beside me.

[the-original-skipps]

|| Beating them at the punching machine game. || Kaiju No. 8 Reactions ||

it’s great to be back!! just caught up to the kn8 manga really missed you guys and to be writing i dont think i have a full 100% grasp on their character yet so ooc warning! you guys are gonna be seeing a lot of kn8 from me lol

: Ichikawa Reno. Narumi Gen. Hoshina Soshiro.

❥ Reno lets out a surprised yell as your fist connects with the punching ball and your score shoots up. His voice was louder than expected as a couple of passerby’s turn to look at you and him. He immediately turns shy, looking down in embarrassment. You walk over to him gigging at his adorableness. The moment you stand in front of him, he grasps your shoulders which catches you in surprise. Trying to keep his voice low, he exclaims how amazingly strong you are. Now it’s your turn to turn shy as countless praises leave his lips. Before you turn red as a tomato you take his hand in yours, pulling him towards the other games at the arcade. Reno vows he’ll train harder to become as strong as you and also to never piss you off. He shudders while you look at him in confusion.

“Let’s train right away when we get back! No? O-Okay, maybe another day.” 

❥ Narumi watches you walk up to the machine. He's already picturing your dejected face. He’ll then have to pull you into a hug while cooing sweet reassurances to you like the good boyfriend that he is. The thought has him grinning like an old man but suddenly a loud bang rings out. Which immediately snaps him out of his daydreams. Only to see your score going up at an alarming rate until it surpasses his own, becoming the newest high score. Seeing the numbers you let out a squeal of delight then turning back to look at your boyfriend whose eyes are now as wide as saucers, mouth agape. Who’s still as a statue you walk up to him. You wave a hand in front of his face to snap him out of his daze. Narumi looks at you in bewilderment as he struggles to form his words. With the same smug smile he gave you earlier during his turn you pat his back in comfort.

"T-There must be something wrong with the machine! I demand a rematch!! Hey! Don’t you dare post about this on Instagram!!"

❥ Hoshina's eyes open momentarily as he sees your score passing his and becoming the new high score. He lets out a whistle as you excitedly turn around and run up to him. He finds your excitement endearing, as he pats your head as praise. He knew you were strong but this was a whole new level of strength, a feeling of pride swells within him. With a teasing smile on his face Hoshina asks you if you've been training in secret and what kind of training you've been doing. You deny his questions, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. Even though his eyes are closed you can feel his intense gaze on you. His hand that was previously on your head lowers until it rests upon your cheek, you await in anticipation at what he’ll do next. However, the moment is quickly broken as he comments on how your strength resembles that of a gorilla's while trying to hold back his laughter.

"I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Though if you were a gorilla you’d be the cutest one! Ouch! I’m kidding hahaha!” 

⋆˙⟡taglist: @stunies @maruflix @hayatoseyepatch if anyone wants to be added pls lemme know!

[diaryofasecretdoll]

Dear Diary,

My month has officially started so I pulled this one out of my drafts

But imagine planning a whole little get-together with your friends at your place, but none of them show up on time. You're left alone for some time until your phone starts ringing, but who answers unknown calls in 2024?

When you finally answer after what seems like the billionth time, it's someone using a Ghostface voice changer. You have a little back and forth, you think it's one of your friends since the person keeps mentioning that you're the birthday girl and that you look pretty.

Eventually, you get creeped out or fed up, you're so close to canceling the whole thing. Until you hear it, a creek from upstairs. Maybe one of the girls snuck in? You had given your closest friend a key in case of emergencies.

But then you get a text "Gonna be later than thought, cars being a bitch" Okay so maybe it's not her? Then you get another text from an unknown number, a picture. Your room, your panties, Your officially freaked out. If this was a prank, it was a cruel one, you stand up and head to the kitchen. One thing, if it was or wasn't a prank you weren't gonna test it. You are shocked when you walk into the kitchen, Knives gone.

You tend to be clueless but this was too much even for you. Right when you turned around you felt a knife to your throat. "looking for one of these?" that wasn't a prop, this couldn't be a prank. You quickly start to tear up, "I thought this is what you wanted? Always stuffing your hands into those pretty panties of yours when you read shit like this birthday girl" the person laughs.

Your shaking, whimpering, begging for answers, frozen in place. The person behind the masks shushes you "Calm down a little pretty girl, I want you a mess but not too much... at least not for today's visit..." His hand trails down to your tits, groping to his content. "We're just gonna play a game" You hated it, hated how those words just traveled straight to your core.

"Since you didn't answer my first calls... Just gonna have to ask you in person" he says as he presses the knife harsher onto your skin. "what's your favorite scary movie?" You don't respond quickly enough, he tightens his grip on you, "Come on birthday girl, you look so pretty tonight. Don't wanna have to gut you like a fish" You feel the mask press against the side of your face. "We both know it's mine...seen you cum so many times to those stupid writings about me" Your sobbing at this point, no one knew about that.

His hand still toying with your tits as the other holds the knife to your neck. "Gonna take it a little easy on you since it's your birthday" his hand now trailing down your stomach and you quiver. "Don't gotta say or do nothing, just enjoy" he hikes up your dress. His hand quickly finds its way to your panties "Crying and wet" you can hear how smug he is as he rubs you through your panties.

"tryna be real nice with a slut like you" he pushes you down onto the kitchen floor quickly mounting you. While he makes sure the knife stays pushed against your throat your plea. "Why aren't any of the girls here yet?" you think to yourself. "Stop fucking freaking out, you know your ass wanted this!" he pushes the knife harsher against your throat. "Planned this shit for months, watching you, observing you. So you let us both have this!" he tugs your panties down.

"Look at her so pretty..." he says softly as he grabs something from his robes. "smile for me birthday girl" Suddenly there's a camera in his hands. You try to cover yourself but it's no use, he has the upper hand as you're reminded of the knife. "pretty puffy pussy has me so fucking hard, been dreaming of it" you hear the snaps from the camera as he moans at the sight.

"Gonna enjoy those later..." he mumbles as he puts the camera down and tugs under his robe. You tense up, you want this so bad no matter how much you plea you don't. "Working on a time limit baby, friends could walk in any minute. You're a shy one to them, don't wanna get fucked in front of them do you?" he chuckles as he grinds down against you with a grunt.

He shifts to cover your body "Just take it, I know you already played with this cunt once today" With that you feel him push into you, using you for his pleasure. All you could do was lay there and take it, you wouldn't admit you were enjoying every moment. He didn't stop for a second not when you came the first time or the second, it was your birthday but this is something he won.

You feel the knife trail down to your body, and you tense up. "Just wanna leave a little memory of this for you" he grunts finally cumming, seconds later you feel the knife nip at your skin GF marked right on the hip. "Fucking gorgeous" he pulls out watching his cum leak from you, then grabs his camera once again. "Smile" he takes a couple of pictures and then stands while fixing his clothes. You're just left looking up at him, he circles you taking pictures from different angles.

He glances out the window before crouching down again to your face. "Might wanna clean up, your guests are finally here" he pats your cheek and stands up walking to your back door. "Happy Birthday" he says finally walking out while humming the familiar tune.

"Who the fuck was that" is all you are left to think, as you try to pull yourself together the doorbell finally rings.

This was supposed to be short and simple but I got lost in it so it could use some work

[d-tergent]

I was talking with my brother about live service games. And despite his (and to a lesser extent, my own) interest in getting into one of these, I think the kind of game he's looking for doesn't exist He's understandably frustrated at Valve's lack of content updates for TF2. I've told him about Deep Rock Galactic and Warframe, but he doesn't seem interested in either. FF14 fell off in our friend group a while ago, but I don't personally know why. He's played Splatoon but wasn't interested in getting into comp at all. Both of us wrote off Destiny. Risk of Rain 2 got borked by the corporate shift, and Returns didn't stick. Fighting games never stuck either (Rivals of Aether lasted the longest). Terraria got left behind. Sky didn't stick after beating the game once, but that one at least makes sense. SMITE couldn't escape enshittification. My friend group even played SRB2Kart for a while, and when I showed Ring Racers to the group, excited about a brand new free game with friends, all I got was silence. Minecraft ended up being pretty turbulent in our friend group, even when changed with mods. Some of the others insisted we have a permanent server, even having the members pay a portion of the server costs, instead of using something like Essential to host games for free. All this really did was have people (me and another online friend) who played almost every day, making heaps of progress where others would only play on the server a single time, or stop playing after the first couple days. Like really, I think during one period we did the entirety of the Twilight Forest mod (and a ton of building with Create) before a third person entered the server again.

I don't really know where I'm going with this, I think I've grown distant from my main friend group and it's made me a bit sad. Whenever I'm talking about games I'm playing and enjoying I simply am ignored, and it's not like the server has no activity ever. When I get into gamedev proper, I want to do what Hopoo did with risk of rain 1, which was make that hangout game for their friend group, whatever it may end up being. For now though, he plays Overwatch, not my first choice personally, but he's given me an invitation to join, so I'll roll with that I suppose.

[v1nsincl4ir]

Returning to my blog when I have a new interest I need to consume and compile content for feels so cosy. This is my little nest. My house. I'm home and I'm searching for scraps under the table

[autumnrory]

sighhh looking at my bookmarks of present ideas for my mom and none of it sounds good rn

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[rbfclassy]

YOU'RE SUCH A PERV! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...pervy acts that the jjk men do

INFO...jjk men (toji, gojo, nanami, geto) x fem!reader, panty stealing, jerking off, spying on you, taking pictures/videos of you, groping you, not proofread

INFO...likes and reblogs are appreciated

GOJO

gojo loves to steal your panties and use them to jerk off whenever you’re not home or busy with work in another room. The way he got fixated on this was by accident, seeing your lace panties lying on the bed because you forgot to fold them from the clean laundry and gojo, for some reason, immediately got hard. He didn’t care if they were used or not, but just the thought that they’ve been on you, snug against your pussy. Before he knew it, he was using your underwear to help jerk off and boy did he cum a lot. He was left shaking, panting and bewildered by what he just did. It became addicting, and now he steals your panties to jerk off. “Satoru, have you seen my pink lace underwear?” You ask. “Mmm, no. Maybe they’re in the wash?” He shrugs. Little do you know he has them stuffed in his pocket for later.

TOJI

this man is big on physical affection when it comes to you. Previously, he would hate being crowded and clingy with his partner, but something about you changed that in him. Toji is big on groping you and I’m talking like eyeing you down like a piece of cake, thinking of all the nasty things he could do to you before his big rough hands are reaching out to grab your titties. His thumbs rub over your hardened nipples with a smug smile on his face. Sometimes he’ll scoot by you, hand on your waist before saying, “scuse me, baby.” Pushing his entire bulge against your ass. All you do is look at him with narrowed eyes while he chuckles. When you’re lying down he likes smacking and grabbing your ass. At this point it’s muscle memory for him. But sometimes he ends up getting horny, and he’ll pull his cock out and start jerking off right there in front of you, still groping your body. “Toji, what are you doing?!” Your brows furrow. “Shhh, just keep watching the movie, sweetheart.”

GETO

this man is so pervy like big time perv. He will record you and take pictures of you anywhere he sees fit. Sneaking a picture of your ass in the dress you’re wearing. Taking videos of you while you’re changing. Sometimes he’ll zoom in your lips while you’re doing your makeup so he can jerk off to it later. He has a whole folder dedicated to you. When y’all are having sex, of course geto has to be the photographer he is. “Lift your skirt up for me.” He snaps a picture of you bent over the bed, the skirt barely covering your ass. Whenever you give him head, he’ll make it a priority to cum on your face so he can take pictures of you smiling. Isn’t he the best? Also, he for sure records you while you’re taking a shower, even if the steam is fogging up the glass, he can still see the outline of your naked body and that’s enough for him. “We should make a movie. What d’ya say, princess?”

NANAMI

as sweet as nanami is, I feel like he would be the type to spy on you and secretly listen to you if you’re ever playing with yourself. He can’t tell if you do it on purpose or what because each time he comes home, the bedroom door is cracked and you’re fucking yourself with the toy he bought you. As we watches you from the dark, he loosens the tie around his neck as he hold back the urge to bust into the room and fuck you senseless, but he gets a sense of adrenaline watching you silently, seeing you lose yourself as you call out his name. He palms himself through his slacks before he finally can’t resist it anymore and starts jerking off to you, following your movements. He knows it’s wrong to do it, he feels like such a creep, but goddamn does he love how it feels, the rush is gives him. “There you go baby, cum for me,” he whispers as his eyes intensely watch how your legs shake.

repost from my old account

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Fever

Summary: You're ovulating- It's that time of month where you find yourself turning into an unspeakably horny monster with just one problem that Javi knows exactly how to help you fix.

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) oral (m and f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, an unspeakably explicit breeding kink (I ain't sorry about it), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Javi "Daddy" and meaning it (help), the sweetest softest sex, yet somehow the filthiest, nastiest sex at the same time??? god these two love each other so much it makes me SICK

A/N: ... If you know me, no you don't. I'm so sorry y'all, I am ovulating and absolutely FERAL, I am truly thinking that someone may need to come put me down at this point because.... yeah... raise your hand if you're surprised Madeline has yet another story with Javier Peña and a big, fat, nasty breeding kink?! Oh look!! It's no one!!! ANYWHO, don't mind me while I foam at the mouth for the next 24-48 hours, BYEEEEEEEEEE

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

If there was one thing that you knew about Javi, it was that he was one of the most handsome, attractive men you had ever met. 

His dark, curly hair. 

His mustache. 

His sweet brown puppy dog eyes. 

His absolutely incomprehensible shoulder to waist ratio. 

Your husband had it all. That, you knew for a fact. 

Truth be told, there wasn’t really much that you ever thought Javi could do to be hotter than he already was. 

That was until a few months ago, when you had recently stopped taking your birth control and you could quite literally feel yourself morph into the insatiably feral, horny mess that you became when you were ovulating. 

And when that was the case, not only was he the hottest man you had ever laid eyes on in your entire life, you were quite literally ready to rip his clothes right off of him at every single opportunity possible. 

You could practically feel the change in your body when you woke up this morning- the soft sunlight of Saturday morning spilling through your curtains as you rolled over to see Javi, mouth slightly agape as he snored, face buried in his pillow and messy brown curls flopping over his head. 

God, does he always look this hot when he sleeps? You thought to yourself, slowly stirring awake, stretching your arms over your head before creeping out of bed to make yourself some coffee to bring back upstairs with you while you waited for Javi to wake up. 

As the bittersweet aroma and quiet, rhythmic drip of the coffee hitting the bottom of the pot began to gently rouse you from your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but shake the warm, stirring sensation in your stomach from the image of Javi sleeping next to you in bed. 

Elbows propped up against the counter, chin resting in your palms, you closed your eyes, picturing him- His sweet soft smile as you kissed his plush lips, the way his big hands roamed across your hips and back as he pulled you closer to his chest, the bulge of his cock pressed against your thigh before he- 

“What are you doing up, cariño?” Javi’s soft and sleepy voice cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back as he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder, his presence enough to snap you out of your daydream, but not enough to shake the dull ache that had been growing between your legs from the moment you woke up. 

“I was just gonna make some coffee and bring it back up to bed. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” You sighed, a smirk growing between your cheeks as you turned around to face him, Javi now caging you between his body and the counter as his hands splayed planted on either side of you. He looked down at you with his half-awake gaze and sleepy smile, still in nothing but his boxers, his tanned skin and barely there freckles glowing in the morning sunlight creeping through your kitchen window. 

“Don’t apologize, mi amor. Just wanted to know where my wife was. Glad I found her.” He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, only pulling away to quietly whisper, “Good morning, hermosa.” 

And while it was nothing but a simple good morning kiss, the way Javi’s lips met yours sent a spark off inside you, quickly leaning back to pull him closer to you as you draped his arms around his neck, a soft moan escaping from your parted mouth, feeling a grin growing across Javi’s face in response. 

“Mhmmm, well, a very good morning to you then. My bedhead and morning breath really doin’ it for you, huh?” Javi smirked, lowering his hands to rest on your hips, gently toying with the waistband of your sleep shorts. 

“Sorry, I uh- you just, God, you look really good this morning. Can we, um, ya know, maybe go back upstairs?” You stammered, so enamored with Javi’s presence that you could barely get a coherent thought out as you stared up at your husband, already feeling a damp patch beginning to grow in your underwear, stomach churning with arousal. 

“Yeah? Mi esposa muy dulce (my sweet wife), you want me to-” 

Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg

“Who the fuck is calling me this early…” 

Javi’s face scrunched in frustration at the sound of his cell phone ringing on the kitchen counter, reaching over you to see the expression in his face shift to concern as he read the caller ID, quickly opening up his phone to answer. 

“Hey, Pops. What’s goin’ on? Everything okay? Again? Fuck… Yeah, just um- shit, yeah, I’ll be over in 30. Okay. Yup. Yeah, bye Pops.” Javi let out a deep sigh, running his hands over his face and through the sleep curled ends of his dark hair, his grumpy pout telling you that your morning was not going to go the way you thought it was 30 seconds ago. “The gate that Pops had installed last week fell down overnight and now all the cows are loose in the pasture… I gotta go over there and help him put it back up before it gets even worse. I’m so sorry, Hermosa.” 

“It’s okay.” You shrugged, trying your best to mask your horny disappointment. 

“It hopefully shouldn’t take that long. I should be back before lunchtime, okay? And when I get back, if you still want,” he paused, letting his palm slide along your jaw, cradling your cheek before pressing another soft kiss onto your lips, “We can pick up where we left off.” 

“Promise?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Yo prometo (I promise).” 

Wanting to give Javi any chance of leaving the house without trapping him in your bedroom, you tried your best to keep yourself busy while he quickly got ready and grabbed his things to head to the Peña Ranch, giving him a quick kiss goodbye before watching him back out of your driveway in his truck, the image of him with one hand behind the passenger seat at the other with his palm to the steering wheel making you just about drop to your knees for reasons you thought you couldn’t explain. 

You hoped that with Javi gone, you could at least be a little productive in getting some things done around the house before he returned, but it seemed like with everything that you did and anywhere you went in your house, you couldn’t help but find more reasons to add to the insatiable desire building in your core. 

While you were trying to make breakfast, you couldn’t help but stare at Javi’s favorite coffee mug, the Empire Strikes Back cup he had claimed as his at your apartment when you had first started dating.  You couldn’t keep yourself from imagining the width of his huge hands wrapping around it, dwarfing the mug in his grasp, thinking about how good those same hands would feel all over you. 

After that, came trying to do the laundry, where you caught yourself sniffing Javi’s shirts, the overpowering and familiar scent of his cologne and sweat seeping through the fabric, driving you absolutely crazy, wishing you could find a way to drown in his scent. 

Finally, in your very valiant effort to try and make your bed, you found yourself laying face down in Javi’s pillow, somehow leaving the sheets and comforters tangled and tossed about worse than you had found them. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me today…”  You whispered to yourself, now sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels on your TV, somehow still even hornier than you were when you woke up this morning. You let your gaze wander away from the TV, examining the walls of your family room until you landed on your wedding photos hung across your wall, smiling to yourself as you looked at the portraits, reliving the moments of the happiest day of your life. 

It wasn’t until you glanced at one of the photos of you and Javi surrounded by your family in a candid moment where Javi had hoisted your niece on his hip to dance with her during your reception, the image making your stomach flip with an overwhelming need. After doing the quick math in your head, it hit you like a thousand pound ton of bricks why you had been so worked up all goddamn day. 

You were ovulating, and you needed Javi to put a baby into you right now.  

As if the universe had magically heard your prayers, you turned your head to hear your garage door opening and the familiar stomp of Javi’s boot covered footsteps trudging down the hallway. Like a moth to a flame, your heart began to race as you watched Javi’s broad body approach you, your jaw practically dropping at his appearance. 

Javi was now glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his curls sticking to his damp forehead, and the sleeves of his button down shirt now rolled up past his elbows, the buttons once done up to near his neck before he left now trailing open to the middle of his chest, exposing the warm glow of his tanned skin underneath. 

“Hey hermosa, I’m home! Ended up being a way easier fix than Pops thought and- Oh!” 

Before Javi could even get out the rest of his sentence, you were trapping his words in your own mouth, feverishly bringing your lips to his as you grabbed fistfulls of his shirt, kissing him like every bone in your body depended on it. 

Javi stood there for a moment, almost dumbfounded and frozen, wondering what had warranted such a greeting before leaning in to reciprocate, snaking his hands to your sides and grabbing your waist, pulling away only to try and understand the reason for his passionate welcome. 

“H-hi baby. Everything okay?” 

“Mhmmmmmm.” 

“Not that I’m mad about it, but I feel like you’re greeting me like I’m coming home from war.” Javi laughed to himself quietly, looking down at you with a smirking suspicion. 

“I missed you. I need you so bad, Javi.” You moaned, pressing up to lock your lips to his again, this time Javi matching your intensity as your mouths crashed into each other. 

“Is this all from this morning?” Javi managed to ask between parted kisses, his grip tightening around you as he pulled you closer to his chest. 

“This morning,” you paused, beginning to kiss him between each thought, “right now,” your hands began to roam up his chest, sneaking under the fabric of his shirt, “all the time,” fingers now working at frantically undoing the buttons, “fuck, everything about you. You’re so fucking sexy, Javi. Do you know that? God, I’m so lucky.” At this point, it felt like the words were flowing out of you in a horny and unstoppable stream of consciousness, babbling between desperate kisses pressed against Javi’s lips. “I need you so bad. I want you fuck me, Javi. Fuck, I- I want you to put a baby in me.” 

Your last sentence had Javi frozen in place once again, pulling away just to make sure he had heard you correctly, even though the boyish grin growing ear to ear across his face seemed to be enough confirmation. The two of you had been trying ever since you had gotten back from your honeymoon, but now that you were to the point that your birth control was out of your system and your cycle was back to normal, it felt just a little more real to the both of you. 

“You want me to put a baby in you, mi amor? That what you want?” Javi groaned, his voice rumbling low in his chest as a hungry glaze painted itself across his chocolate brown eyes, making your pussy throb at hearing him say it back to you. 

“Mhmmmmm.” You nodded frantically, too caught up in your own desire to find any words to string together into a coherent sentence. “I think I’m ovulating, so it could really happen this time. Please, baby, I-” 

This time, it was Javi’s turn to cut you off, his arms scooping below your legs to hoist you up around him, legs locking around his hips as he carried you down the hallway towards your bedroom, your bodies banging and bumping against the walls and door frames in a frantic race to your bed without any regard for spatial awareness.  

As soon as you were close enough, Javi was tossing you on the bed, frantically stripping himself of his shirt and working his way down to his jeans before he realized you were sitting up, already toying with his button and zipper. You pushed his pants down his legs, followed by his boxers, revealing his cock, fully erect and weeping with precum at the tip. It wasn’t long until you were scrambling off the bed and dropping to your knees in front of him, licking the salty tang of spend off his tip before he could protest that he needed to take care of you first. 

“Hermosa, I- Oh fuckkkk-” He groaned, feeling your jaw go slack as you took his length into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him in the back of your throat, pulling back to look up at him with batted lashes as you kissed him up and down his shaft. 

“I wanna suck your dick, Javi. Wanna show you how much I love it. Wanna feel you down my throat before you fuck me.” You moaned, rubbing your legs together to try and ease the ache between your legs, your pussy so wet and puffy that slick and arousal were dripping from your cunt and coating the inside of your thighs. 

“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut to regain his composure before looking back down at you, slowly sucking at his tip, your tongue swirling around the sensitive ridges of his cock. “Okay, baby. Show me how bad you need me before I put my dick in your tight little pussy, huh?” 

Inch by inch, you took him back down your throat until you were brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as your pace began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.” 

For as much as Javi wanted you to keep going until he was spilling down your throat, he needed to save every last drop for when he came inside you, fucking you full of him until he knew it took. Feeling his balls begin to draw up into his stomach, he forced himself to pull you off him, panting to catch his breath before he spoke. “I don’t wanna cum yet, baby, and if you keep going like that I’m gonna bust.  Fuck, you’re so good to me. Lay down on the bed, Hermosa. Let me take care of you. Need to taste you.” 

Instantly, Javi was pulling you up and sitting you on the bed, letting your back hit the mattress as he settled between your legs, tugging your bottoms off until they were in a crumpled pile on the floor. his hands slide down the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart to reveal the wet, slick, and puffy mess your pussy had already become without even being touched. Javi chuckled to himself, awestruck by the sight in front of him, kissing and nipping at the meat of your legs, teasing you with how dangerously close he was to your cunt and finally giving you what you needed. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, cariño.” Letting his hands shift down, his fingers ghosted across your core as his thumbs slid through the lips of your pussy, spreading it open even further, making you whimper in anticipation. “Goddamn, she’s so pretty. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. Who’s pussy is this, baby girl?” He smirked, barely kissing your clit, driving you absolutely wild as you squirmed beneath his touch, desperate for him to do something, anything, to ease your ache.  

“Y-yours, Javi. It’s all yours, baby. Only yours.” You whined, gazing down at him with a rampant need in your eyes, fisting at your bedsheets to find somewhere to try and release your tension. 

“Fucking right it is.” 

His head then dipped between your legs, arms draped across your stomach holding you in place as he began to eat you out like a man being served his last meal on this earth. Broad, flat strokes of his tongue slid between your folds, pressing against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure he knew would have you crumbling beneath him. 

You couldn’t help but rithe under his touch, instinctively bucking your hips at his face, overwhelmed by the way Javi was relentlessly drinking you up, his fingers gripping tighter to the meat of your thighs to hold you in place as you could feel the tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine, your back arching in desperate anticipation. 

Almost as if he could read your mind, Javi easily slipped two fingers inside you, curving in just the right way to bump against your g-spot, fucking in and out of you to fill the emptiness in your pussy he knew you craved. 

“J-Javi, oh fuck- don’t stop baby, please, don’t stop.” You whimpered, your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head as you felt your orgasm begin to build, cunt clenching tighter around Javi’s fingers and beginning to flutter while he sucked on your clit. You could feel his smug smirk pressed against your heat as your hand shot down between your legs, grabbing and tugging on fistfulls of his thick locks, your tell tale sign that it was only a few more moments before you were about to come undone. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Say my name, baby girl. Let me hear you.” 

And there you were, chanting his name like a prayer, over and over again until you reached your breaking point. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi, J-Javi, J-aaaahhhhhh, oh fuck-” 

In an instant, you could feel a wave of pleasure crashing through you in toe curling delight, your orgasming ripping through every inch of your body with undeniable intensity, your slick soaking Javi as he drank up every last drop of you, savoring the sweet taste of you on his tongue. 

You sat there for a moment, back against the mattress as your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, blissed out of your mind as you sat propped up on your elbows, staring at Javi, proudly wiping the slick covering his face with the back of his hand. 

“Javi, holy fuck, baby.” You gasped, swallowing hard as you watched Javi begin to hover over you, making his way up your body one slow, wet kiss at a time, nipping at the soft skin of your stomach before cupping your breasts, taking one in his mouth, sucking and flicking at your pebbled nipples with his tongue while he rolled the other between his fingers. The whimpers escaping from your lips were damn near pathetic, but considering how worked up you were, you could have probably cum again just from this alone. 

“You still want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked all too knowingly, tongue darting between the smirk of his parted lips, trailing languid kisses along your collarbone and up your neck.  

“Y-yes. Fuck, yes.” You moaned, breath hitching at the back of your throat as Javi sucked at your pulse point. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, pretty girl.” Javi whispered, his voice rumbling low in his throat as he nipped at your ear. “Tell me how much you want me to give you a baby.” 

“F-fuck, so badly Javi. Please, baby. I want you to so bad. I want you to more than anything. I wanna make you a daddy, Javi.” 

If Javi had any ounce of self composure left, that alone was enough to make him crumble, letting out an audible groan, his dick even harder than he already thought it could be. 

“Fuck me…” Javi groaned, sucking you in for another electric kiss. “Turn around, baby.” 

Scooching yourself further up the mattress, you laid with your stomach to the bed as Javi climbed behind you, swiping his cock through your folds before sinking into your heat, bottoming out against your cervix and whimpering at the sweet sting of his stretch, sucking him in with your warm, velvety walls. 

Slowly, Javi began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke as he laid his chest against your back, interlocking his fingers with yours outstretched above your head on the bedspread, head buried in the crook of your neck. 

Each push and pull of his hips elicited more lewd sounds than the last- you were practically dripping at this point from how worked up you were, and could hear the wetness pooling in your pussy, filling the room with obscenely filthy sounds. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You hear that, Momma? You hear how wet you are for me? Hear how badly your tight little pussy wants me to fill her up? Pump her full of me?” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, his grip around your hands even tighter than before, biting down on your shoulder trying his best to keep from falling apart at just how good you felt around him, coating every inch of his length in your arousal.  

“I want you to cum so deep inside me, Javi. P-please, baby.” You begged, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the wrecked expression painted across Javi’s face that mirrored yours. 

Suddenly, you could feel Javi grabbing your hips, flipping you over as your back bounced against the mattress, now staring up at him. He ran his hands up the back of your thighs until your knees were against your stomach, spread open as wide as you could be for him. 

As he sunk back in your heat, he caged himself over you, devouring you in a desperate and hungry kiss of mangled tongue and teeth, catching your moans in his mouth as he bottomed out inside you. 

“Need to see that beautiful face when you cum for me, cariño. Wanna see you when you soak my cock, w-watch, oh fuck- you when I fuck you so full of me, I’ll knock you up tonight.” Javi moaned between kisses. 

The new angle had Javi pounding into you in the way that had your jaw going slack and your cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around his length, once again feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten with arousal. 

“P-please, Javi. F-fuck- You feel so good, don’t stop, baby.” You whimpered, your eyes locking with his, your heart racing as you stared into the deep chocolate brown of his gaze.

“I won’t stop, hermosa. Won’t stop until I fill this perfect pussy up. Fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days. Won’t stop until I fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you give us a family- Jesus, fuck- Fuck, I love you so much.” 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, he reached between your legs to rub at your clit, rhythmically circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you, knowing at this rate, you weren’t going to last much longer, and that meant neither was he. 

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.”  

 Each thrust of his hips sending you closer to the brink of collapse than the last, the noises of your wanton moans, skin slapping against each other and the wetness of Javi’s cock sloppily pumping in and out of your cunt had the room sounding borderline pornographic. You could feel your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head as the coil in your belly was about to reach a breaking point until the firm grasp of Javi’s palm around your jaw forced your gaze up at him once again. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me when you cum. Need to see you when I fuck a baby into you, Momma.” 

That was all you needed to finally send you over the edge, your body exploding with pleasure as your orgasm overtook you, your thighs shaking and voice trembling with wrecked pleas of Javi’s over and over.

“J-Javi, Javi, Javiiiii, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, oh God, fuck, baby, fuck!” 

As you gushed around his cock, your pussy gripped him like a vice as you came. Javi’s hips began to stutter, his pace now becoming frantic and sloppy knowing how close he was to following suit, losing all inhibitions as you sobbed out in ecstasy. 

“That’s it, baby. Mierda- Fuck, I’m close. Gonna fill this pussy up- oh shit- so full it’ll f-fucking take. I know it will. I p-promise, I- oh fuck!” 

With one final stammer of his hips, Javi’s orgasm consumed him, his spend coating every inch of your walls as he spilled into you, milking himself of every last drop as he came. His body slumped into yours, chests rising and falling in sync as both of you laid in post-orgasmic bliss, completely lost in the sensation of each other. 

After a moment, Javi finally pulled out his softening cock, making you whine at the loss. Sitting back on his haunches, he couldn't help but admire the absolute mess between your legs- your pussy so puffy and swollen, covered in your shiny slick, and dripping with his cum. A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he watched his spend begin to leak out of you, knowing that you were overflowing with him. 

His fingers traced down your thighs, dragging his cum back to your cunt, making sure a single drop didn't go to waste. You couldn't help but sob as his curved fingers push back inside your pussy, making sure you stay stuffed full of him so he knew it took, because God, did want it more than anything to take. 

Gently pulling back out, Javi couldn’t help but lean down to kiss you again, grabbing your face as he peppers you with kisses, making you squeal in a ticklish delight. 

“I love you so much, mi amor.” Javi cooed, his forehead resting against yours as he softly stroked your face, your heart swelling with joy and excitement at the man you hoped from 9 months from now, would be the father to your child. 

“I love you too, Jav. You’re gonna be such a good Daddy.” You smirked, teasing him just enough to make him let out a sigh, biting down on his lip. 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me with that one. You know that?” 

“Well it’s true!” You laughed, giving him a playful nudge, running your hand through the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck. “You think this one will be the one?” 

“I hope so. If not, guess we’re just gonna have to keep trying every day till it is, huh?” 

“If you keep fucking me like that, we’re gonna have 12 kids before you know it.” 

“I mean… wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Javi grinned, rasing his eyebrows at you with a boyish glow. 

“Javi! We are not having 12 kids!” You protested, rolling your eyes at your husband. 

“Osita, if you keep coming on to me like you did today, we may not have a fucking choice.”  

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[suguann]

Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    

And then Mio kicks the ball into— 

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

[nanaslutt]

PLEASE write more of geto being a perv🙏🙏

“pt.1” here

Geto x reader, in showing you how sorry he is for being a creep<3

perv!geto is my obsession atm

contains: fem reader, non consensual photography (reader is kinda ok w it), pervy roomate!geto, crack, gojo makes an appearance, talk of gojo wanting reader, sexual tension, cunnilingus, masturbation(geto), degradation, soooooooo much dirty talk, sweet!geto at the end<3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

About a week ago you were watching a scary movie with geto on your laptop, drinks placed on the table next to it; dumbly.

So of course when the scariest jump scare you’ve ever seen in your life occurred, your legs jerked into the glass of liquid, spilling it all over your laptop and absolutely ruining it.

“God- Fuck! Noooo! nonono!” you shot up to grab a blanket, pillow, anything, to soak up the liquid, “TAKE YOUR SHIRT OF NOW,” you yelled in a panic to your dark haired roommate, who; you noticed throughout this entire excursion had barely moved a muscle to help, besides the muscles used to laugh at you.

“Babe I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that shit is beyond saving,” he laughed, placing his hand over his chest while he did.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck, I use my laptop every single, and day I absolutely cannot afford to buy a new one right now.” you placed your head in your hands in defeat.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” geto said, at the end of his fit of giggles at your expense.

“Yeah right, ur broke as shit too, that’s why we’re living together.” you said, muffled into your legs as your body had now fully collapsed in on itself.

“Yeah ur right, but that kinda hurts my feelings,” he said, smirk showing through his faux pout, “thought you liked livin’ with me,”

The two of you bickered back and forth for a while. You ended up putting the laptop in a bag of rice; to no avail, it was completely ruined.

Geto had been nice enough to let you use his laptop in the meantime; only when he was with you though, which you found slightly weird but at least you had access to it to some degree.

Right now you had the house to yourself though. Satoru had picked him up half and hour ago, saying something about wanting to try some new coffee shop with word famous sweets; that meant you had free range of his laptop.

You knew how to clear search history, so you would be fine. You just wanted to watch a movie anyways, nothing criminal.

Sneaking into his room, you unplugged the silver electronic, sliding it under your arm as you took it back to your room. Placing the laptop on your bed and getting comfortable against your pillows, you cracked it open, You had accidentally seen him type in his password before, so getting in was no problem.

What was a problem is what was on the screen when the laptop came to life. An entire folder of up skirt panty shots; and not just anyone’s panty shots; they were yours.

Scrolling through the decently filled folder, you noticed ones that dated back months ago. You saw a picture of you laying on your bed, head in your hands while you kicked your feet behind you; the short skirt you were wearing gave geto the perfect view of your unobstructed ass, slight pink peaking between your cheeks.

Other too, you doing more mundane things like sitting on your knees on the barstool you had in the house, poking out your ass, once again giving that dark haired pervert the perfect shot of your clothed mound.

You were almost impressed at how many there were, and how make different angles he was able to get without your knowledge.

Trying to wrap your head around the idea that yes, your sweet roommate who has never attempted to come onto you once, had a secret folder filled with lewd photos of you.

Saving the file, you sent it to yourself. Once you heard the chime on your phone you quickly copied the link, and sent it to the culprit himself, no other message attached to it but the folder alone.

——

“Ummm ooh, I’ll also get the triple chocolate cream filled crepe cake please! What do you want suguru?” gojo chirped.

Geto started at him with disbelief, he had just ordered 5 full size deserts with the longest name he’d ever heard; all sounding like a stomach ache and a half; and they were all for himself.

“Right..uh, i’ll just get the vanilla scone and a black coffee please.” Geto politely spoke to the man taking his order.

Gojo continued conversing with the cashier, finishing up ordering any last minute items and paying.

Geto felt his phone buzz in his pants, checking it quickly while gojo finished up the interaction; both of them starting to walk to booth in the corner of the cafe.

Suguru’s heart sank to his balls when he opened your message. He knew you were mad too, because you didn’t say anything else other than a link to his private folder of your panty shots. “Fuuuuuuuuuck haha,” geto laughed, hand coming up to cover his smirk as they slid into the booth.

“Huh? let me see, what happened?” Gojo nosed, trying to peek over the table at geto’s phone when he noticed it was the source of his distress.

“I might have to sleep at your house tonight, maybe for the rest of my life I don’t know.” he said, hand dropping back into his lap as he shut his phone off.

“Did you forget to do your dishes or somethin’?” he asked, knowing how angry you got at Geto when he didn’t pick up after himself.

“Yeah maybe, or maybe my roommate just found the upskirt pics i’ve been taking of them for the past couple months.” he giggled, slight remorse in the back of his head. Not from doing it, but from being caught.

Gojo’s jaw dropped, covering his own mouth as he let out a boisterous laugh. “Hahaha oh man, you really are fucked.” the blonde slapped his own knee, “I’ll let you co-sign my lease tonight,” he said, scared that if suguru went home, he might actually get murdered.

Geto kicked satoru’s shin underneath the table, making him wince. Their giggles died down at geto’s misfortune after awhile. “So..” gojo started, “Yer’ gunna let me see the pics right?” he asked, “Already hurt you didn’t tell me about this,” he pouted,

“In your fucking dreams satoru,” geto snorted. He already saw the way gojo looked at you when he was over, always making passes at you and touching you any chance he got.

He would be damned if his bestfriend got his hands on you before he did. “WHAT???” gojo yelled a little too loud for the tiny space they were in, resulting in him getting shushed by geto, “pleaseeeee, I know how good you are at taking pictures I bet they’re soooo gooood.” gojo wined, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head against them.

“Keep dreaming satoru.” he laughed. The whine haired man kept his pouting up for awhile, calling Geto selfish and unfair, his sorrow immediately being forgot about when the massive tray of his deserts finally came out.

——

When you heard the front door to your shared apartment finally crack open open a couple hours later, you were in your bedroom.

His laptop had been tucked away in your bedside table in confiscation, while you awaited with a racing heart, for him to knock on your bedroom door.

You heard him place his keys on the table through the thin walls, then you hear his heavy footsteps as he starts to make his way to your room.

The air was still when the footsteps came to a stop in front of your door. You were feeling a lot less confident than you were before he got here, now the thought of confronting him made your mouth feel dry; heart beating out of your chest.

Finally, the knocks were being rapped on your door, you swear you died for a second when you heard his familiar voice call your name, followed by him asking politely if he could come in.

"Its open," you yelled back. When the wooden door creaked open and his frame came into view, you had to fight off all the neurons in your brain telling you to look away from his hooded eyes.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, the tension in the room was so thick it could be cut through with a knife. You had no idea why, but the current situation was admittedly arousing.

You stayed silent for a while, just staring at each other, neither one of you daring to break eye contact first, "So? What do you have to say for yourself?" you asked, voice coming out a lot less confident than you wanted.

"Im sorry." he replied, swallowing thickly, quickly sucking his lip into his mouth to wet it.

"You're sorry for what?" you asked clarifying, This wasn't going how you expected.

"I'm sorry for being a pervert and taking panty pics of my roommate." He said, taking a couple steps towards where you were sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Are you really sorry?" You asked, voice full of need, as you did your best to supress it, trying to ignore the growing heat in your stomach.

"So sorry" he answered, having made his way inches away from you, eye contact still not being broken. You both noticed how heavily you were breathing, his eyes flitting down to your lips for a second before he sucked his lip into his mouth again, and letting it slide out, dark eyes meeting yours again.

The only thing you heard was your heart beat loudly in your ears as you spoke your next words, "Show me how sorry you are."

----

"Mm so fucking sorry," geto's voice vibrated against your clit.

"F-fuck ohmygod," You moaned at the feeling of him wrapping his lips around the bud, tongue peeking through to flick at it.

"A-again-" you whined,

"'M sorry," he groaned, staring up at you with a smirk as he released your clit, flattening his tongue over the sensitive bud.

You were laid back, ass placed at the end of the bed, Geto was sitting back on his heels as he perched himself on the floor between your thighs, hand rapidly stoking over his throbbing cock.

"W-wipe that sm-ile off your face" you wined, trying to keep the little hold you had over geto.

He didnt stop smiling, but you could'nt tell when he burried his tongue inside your pussy, pressing his face hard into your wetness and shaking his head. His pointed nose rubbed your clit in the most delicious way when he did that.

"S-so fucking dirty" you chastised at how sloppily he was eating your cunt. He was trying to fuck his apology into your pussy with his tongue, really trying to prove how sorry he was.

Loud slurping noises bouncing off the walls and going straight to your head; and to his cock; making you both dizzy at the situation.

"Sorry I'm so nasty," he groaned, muffled by your folds as he tongue fucked you like his life depended on it.

Quickening the pace of his hand against his cock, he was squeezing it the same way your walls squeezed his tongue, trying to mimic the feeling. Pre was dripping steadily from his cock and onto the floor, leaving a little puddle there.

Geto was getting off on this so hard.

Every time you squeezed your thighs around his head and degraded him, his abs clenched, balls tightening with the need to blow his load.

"O-only thing youre good for is eating my pussy, f-fuck" you said meanly with a whimper, eyes dropping down to his handsome face and seeing how fucked out he looked from your words, as he nodded his head and moaned into you, agreeing with you.

He needed to you keep talking to him like that, to keep humping his face, suffocating him, treating him like a bitch, he needed it.

"Use me-" he cut himself off as he moved his mouth back up to your clit, making out with the little bud messily, "wanna show you how sorry I am." he drunkenly smiled at you.

You gripped his hair in a makeshift bun, rolling your hips against his face as he stuck his tongue out for you to get yoruself off on.

Groans of "mhm mhmm" could be heard from Geto between your legs, pumping his cock impossibly faster feeling your wetness gush out of you from his minstrations.

"Ohmygod feels so good- shit-" You wined, tipping your head back, feeling your orgasm build quicky as you rubbed against his tongue just right.

His chin was absolutely covered in your slick, pretty eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself get pushed towards the edge as well, abandoning his hand keeping your thigh spread to join his other between his legs. He massaged his balls between his fingers, increasing the pleasure he felt while you worked towards your end together.

"Fuck t-tell me your sorry again," you whimpered out, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, "Sorry" his deep voice immediately groaned out, cock throbbing when you yanked on his hair.

"Ag-ain" your moans broke up your speech,

"Sorry, m' sorry, sorry-" He kept babbling against your pussy, sending delicious vibrations through you.

You were feeling hotter at the strange power dynamic going on, using that to your advantage as he kept mumbling the word into you, sending you straight into the most mindblowing orgasm of your life.

"Coming f-uck fuck f-" your voice getting cut off as your stomach started contracting and jerking, you rode your high out on his tongue while he groaned a lengthy moan into you.

Behind where your vision was blocked by the bed, Geto was cumming all over his hand and the bottom of your comforter.

Geto's eyes repeatedly rolled back in his head, hand massaging his cum out of his balls as he stroked himself roughly through his orgasm.

Finally being able to breathe when you loosened your legs from their hold on his neck, dropping your hands from his hair as you laid back on the sheets. Geto's hands wet with his seed came up to massage your thighs, his head rasing from between them.

You both took a second to breathe heavily into the open air, your cunt as his cock alike twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You felt his hold on you cease for a moment, a couple seconds later something was bouncing heavily next to your head. When you turned your head you were faced with a brand new, rose gold laptop, still in its packaging.

You looked back up at geto, who was now standing, running one of his damp hands through his hair, "If me eating your pussy didnt prove how sorry I am, I hope this will." He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fuck, Geto are you serious?" you beamed, picking your limp body up from the sheets and holding the package in your hands, he smiled at you fondly, watching you tear it open like a kid on Christmas.

Peeling the plastic from the cardboard you spoke, "Still making you delete all those photos by the way," resulting in him tipping his head back in a loud groan of defeat.

[rqnarok]

LATCH | pervy!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: you come up at logan at night and he finally gives in to his desires. 

content warnings/tags: smut, mdni! little to no plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. soft dom!logan. sub!reader. pervy!logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, princess, etc). logan calls himself ‘old man’. fingering (f receiving). innocence kink. not proofread. wc: 1,5k

Logan Howlett is not a good man. 

“I’m not a good man, sweets.”

He has not been a good man in years. 

Still, when he scoops your sobbing figure in his arms on that day at the X-Mansion, he feels like a good man. 

“C’mon. Let’s go, kid. I’ll take care of you.”

Ever since then, you look up to him as if he is some kind of savior. A hero. A good man. 

And he starts to believe that. 

At first, it started oh, very casual—innocently. By working himself to death for the sake of your comfort. Earning money so that he could see that smile on your pretty face when he gives you gifts: new dresses, books, food—anything you want, really. He’d give it to you.

You walk up to him one Friday, showing your brand new sundress that you bought using his money, “Logan! It fits me so well, don’t cha think?”

The sight of you twirling around and giggling in front of him is enough to be his bad-day-cure, “Spin one more time, princess. Don’t have my glasses on.” 

He lies. He just wants to catch a glimpse of your cottoned panties in the process. 

Logan perceives himself as a sick fuck when he starts seeing you in that way. But hey, he did say that he is not a good man, right?  

He tried to control it, he really tried. Composing himself and creating some moral values in his head in an attempt to be in charge of his corrupted desires. 

But Logan forgot one simple thing: he can control himself all he wants, but he could never control you. 

You may be content but you are far from stupid.

It takes you months to perfect this mastermind plan—or so you call it. This mischief came into you when you decided that you had enough of Logan and his games. You know he yearns for you and you feel the same way, too. 

He peeks over you so… hungrily and thinks you wouldn’t notice? 

When you confront him about it one morning, he nonchalantly brushes it off by letting out a dry chuckle and mutters something around, “What ya’ talking ‘bout, kiddo? Go ‘head finish your breakfast.”  

But you know! You always catch his yearning gazes and… hear him over the shower one time. Moaning and grunting your name when he thought you were out buying the weekly groceries. It upsets you that he does not give in. 

So then, you concluded that you will determine to bring his temptation up to the surface and break his poor self-control through this little contemplation of yours. 

It takes a while to gain your courage and when you finally creep up into Logan’s room, the clock on the wall ticks at half past two in the morning. 2:30 AM. 

Logan said he’d take care of you, right? Said he’d do anything for you, right? Well, you need him now, “Logan? Logan? It hurts.” You whisper into the chilly air as you shake him up from his deep slumber.

And y’know, he’s a tired old man—so it takes him a while to wake up. He grabs his glasses from the nightstand beside him and slides them right on. When Logan sees you standing sleepily before him in your nightie gown, Good Lord. 

“Hey, hey—what’s goin’ on, princess?” You’re all teared up and your lips are bitten red. You look heavenly in the shaft of moonlight that slips through the window and into Logan’s bedroom. 

Your actions speak for themselves as you make your way onto his lap and nuzzle into his greying beard. “Tell your old man what’s got you so upset. C’mon.” He wants to take a good look at your face but you are so latched to him—snuffling into his broad shoulder all gloomy and wretched. 

“Hurts so bad.” You repeat yourself as your arms make their way around his neck. “Hurts, Logan.” 

“Hm? What hurts?” 

Pure silence as your little fingers wrap around Logan’s wrist and place it on your knee. Then, you’re guiding him up up up and he knows where this is going but he could not stop it. 

Fuck. He curses himself. Should’a know you’d pull some shit like this.

Finally, you stop his large calloused hand on top of your pussy. It’s heating up. Logan can feel the warmth of your cunt through your thin white cotton panties—his middle finger twitches with the urge to palm you. But no. That’s not what a good man should do. He tries to remember all the moral values he has created in his head while he sighs deeply and closes his eyes. 

“Kiddo-”

“Want to cum, please, Logan.” You take his face in your hands in the way that you always do and his hand is still on top of your clothed mound. “Please…! You said you’d help me, take care of me. I’ll be good, promise. Please.” His eyes open and he looks at your big eyes then your lips then your eyes again. That’s when you know you had him. “Hurts.” 

With half-lidded eyes, you watch Logan lose his composure, “Yeah? You’d be good f’me?” His head goes forward as he pampers your face with gentle kisses and you gulp because you don’t know what to do now. 

“Why don’t you lay down and let me take a look?” 

His scent combination of beer, whiskey, and cigars lingers around you as you rest your aching body on his bed. Looking up at him all mesmerized and lust-filled. 

Logan tries to soften his features for you. He thinks the heave of your chest moving up and down, up and down is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. He said he’d take care of you and that’s all he’s doin’ now. Taking care of his pretty baby. 

“C’mon. Open up to your old man.” He says, patting the sides of your thighs to part. And you did what you’re told, revealing the wet spot of your panties, and Logan curses. Mutters something under his breath. 

“You’ve been touching yourself here, Little Missy? That’s what got you dripping?” You throw your head back and huff a breathy ‘ah’ at the feel of his big fingers rubbing circles along the slick. Logan wants you to sing for him, “Use your big girl words, c’mon.” 

“Y-yes! Been touching myself…” Your red cheeks heat up at your own answer, suddenly feel so little. Logan hums deeply at your reply, hooking his fingers at one side of your panties and pulling them aside. Oh, he can tell. “Mhm.”

You were in a moment of bliss until he stopped his movement and brought your panties back to its original place, “Show me.” 

“L-Logan…” you respond by shaking your head erratically. Nononono— this isn’t a part of your plan. This becomes humiliating. No way. 

“What d’ya mean no, princess?” Logan grins—he knows you’re playing something and he is not going to lose so easily. “You want me to take care of you, yeah? Gotta show your old man what you were doin’ so he knows what he can do.” 

Well, he is not wrong. You let a huff defeatedly and roll yourself onto your front, shoving one of Logan’s pillows between your plushy thighs. And Logan is bewitched and hypnotized and fuck, so hard. His cock sticks up in his boxers briefs it hurts. 

Through his lens, he attentively watches every move you make: how your nightie gown hikes up to your chest and reveals a glimpse of your breasts, how you roll your hips in circles, how you throw your head back up facing the ceiling. The noises you make—sounds he not-so-accidentally heard when he passes your room at night when he comes home from work. This is what you've been doing? 

“Aight’. I know the problem is, sweets.” You slow down your movements as you gaze at him all doe-eyed. He places his palm on your back to still you. Your head lulls back and forth as you wait for his guidance. 

“You need something inside. Have you had something inside, baby?” He turns you to him oh, so delicately as if you are something fragile. 

You shake your head slightly at his question, suddenly embarrassed. Logan is so hard at this. He can't hold back anymore. “I see. ‘S alright, little girl. Lean on top of me. I’ll show you how it’s done. Y’ just need to trust your old man, yeah?” 

And you do. You always do. You love him. 

He smiles down at you, showing the wrinkles and scars on his face. “I love ya’. Give me some sugar first. Let me kiss ya’.” 

The kiss is more than just a distraction. It’s a repetition of him saying I love ya’ through his actions. What comes next is new to you, his large fingers probing at your entrance as you hiss and whimper and sob. Logan eases you open while kissing your inner thighs, letting you feel his scruffy beard. Raining you with his sweet praises, “Oh, that’s a good girl, alright. My sweet girl.” 

Then it leads you to it. The main purpose of your plan here in the first place. 

The clothes you both had on are thrown all over the floor as he hovers above you, taking off his glasses—placing kisses everywhere he can reach. “Y’want it?” And the tip of his cock finally nudges between your folds in an aching stretch and you mewl.

“Your old man’s gonna take care of you.” 

He always does.

[chososlilprincess]

last part of virgin!Choso<3 (im gonna write more for him tho, just in other scenarios!!) other parts here: part 1 part 2 part 4

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

Virgin Choso who stands on his small balcony, looking over the city, a grey cloud creeping out between his lips.

Choso had taken up smoking. He’d asked Leiri about it when he’d seen her doing it, and she’d told him it helped her to relax. he’d bought a pack right after that. The first couple of times he’d coughed the smoke out. But now he does it smoothly, inhaling and exhaling the smoke with no problem. It makes him feel at ease even just for a moment, and lord knows he needs it right now. Humans are fucking weird he thinks, they’d jepordize their health for a little break from their troubles. Guess that doesnt sound so ridiculous now that he thinks about it. Either way hes a human now too, or a half one atleast.

he squeezes the cigarette into an ashtray and looks at the time when he hears the door bell ringing. Its late and you’re here.

he hears you running up the stairs, and when you get to the top you run to him, giving him a soft hug. His heart keens.

“hi Choso!” you smile and let go of him, he immediately misses the feel of you, “hey,” he mumbles.

“why do you smell like cigerattes?” you huff and your nose crickles. cute.

he raises his shoulders.

“i cant believe it…who taught u to do that huh?” you make a disappointed face and fold your arms, tapping your foot on the floor. And he knows youre just joking, you and Yuji have been using enough sarcasm around him for him to have a pretty good understanding of it.

“Leiri,” he shrugs.

“of course…that hag,” you grin. And you look so fucking adorable, in your little outfit, and the way you look when you smile makes him weak. He has your bag ready on the couch, he had washed your panties before putting everything back into it. But he can’t think about that now, or he’ll turn bright red.

he sighs “i made dinner,” he says, “if you’re hungry,” you stop infront of him and you almost look like youre gonna cry from happiness. “im starving,” you say quickly, “what did you make?”

He’d made rice bowls for you. your favourite. And you eat like a girl who’d gotten her first meal in months. Happily humming while eating your food.

Rather than focusing on eating his own bowl, he thinks about eating every meal of the day with you, sitting across from him.

when you’re done you put your plate in the sink and you yawn, you look adorable when you yawn, you look adorable when you do anything.

you turn around, “Choso?”

his heart skips a beat. he nods.

“it’s really late and um…dark outside and i don’t really want to walk home alone,” you look away, are you….blushing?

“is it okay if i stay here for the night?”

And hes heard the stories. About what happens to pretty girls when they’re alone at night and they don’t see the stranger walking behind them. And his fist clenches at the thought of someone being mean to you. He’s stronger than any human. he’d crush their fucking skull.

“you can stay,” he says quickly, a little too eagerly he realises. And you smile, “give me your plate,” you say, looking greatful that he let you stay, unknowing of the fact that he’d do just about anything if it meant your safety, or your happiness.

You start washing the dishes in his tiny kitchen, and when Choso tries insisting that he wants to help, you splash a bit of water on him. And you laugh so sweetly, when he jumps a little, trying not to get hit.

When youre done washing up, You both stand in silence for a while. For some reason its not as akward as it sounds.

“i will sleep on the couch,” he says,

“no Choso…id feel bad, you sleep in your bed,” you mumble.

You both argue like that for a while, and youre not letting up. stubborn little human.

you both get quiet for a moment.

“how big is your bed?”

“Queen size,”

“so why dont we just…sleep in it together?”

youre blushing slightly again. it must be his imagination.

And then he thinks about it. Friends sleep in the same bed sometimes right? you dont mean anything by it, he thinks, its just you being polite.

“i guess…we could do that yes,” he agrees.

you smile and nod, “okay,”

Choso excuses himself to go to the bathroom then, telling you to go ahead and get ready for bed.

He looks at himself in the mirror. He takes out his buns, his hair falling down to his shoulders. His eyes are dark and sunken. He looks dead he thinks. He looks down, “behave,” he says quietly, mostly to his heart, but also his dick.

he buries his head in his hands And He realizes he cant, he realizes the second he’s gonna look at you in his bed, he won’t be able to stop himself. to stop himself from confessing everything he feels, everything he’s done. that he thinks about you all the time, that you drive him insane, that he stole your pretty panties and came in his hand from the smell of your wet cunt.

When he rounds the corner of his bedroom, you’re sitting patiently on the edge of his bed, waiting for him.

“i am going to sleep on the couch, i don’t think this is a good idea,” he says it quickly, before he changes his mind, before its too late to go back.

you open your mouth to speak, hesitating a little.

“is it because of what yuji told me?”

his brain goes quiet. “what?”

“that you…that you like me?”

fuck. its over. he sighs angrily. that little fucki-

you stand and walk to him.

and when you put your hand on his chest, for a moment he forgets why hes mad, he forgets who he is and what year hes in. all he sees is you. And how close you are all of a sudden. and how youre leaning in, standing on your tippy toes, pressing your soft lips to his, in a short gentle kiss. His world stops for a moment.

And when he regains his senses, his instincts take over and he kisses you back ferociously, it’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but neither of you seem to care.

You walk backwards onto his bed, and you push him down so he’s sitting on the edge. He looks at you like a puppy dog, and his cheeks are flushed red.

When you sit down in his lap his dick twitches in his pants.

“i- i didnt think you…,” he stutters. he doesn’t really believe what’s happening.

“well i do,” you say, while cupping his face in your hands. “a lot,”

“can i…” he needs it he needs it he needs it, “can i eat your pussy?” he mumbles it quietly.

your eyes widen. fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, it was way too fast, you were just kissing.

“oh…uh okay,”

fuck. yes.

he lifts you up from his lap, and you skriek a little from surprise. He puts you down in a chair in the corner of his bedroom.

he gets on his knees infront of you and speaks quietly,

“i…im sorry i,” he sniffles a little, he’s so overwhelmed. And you’re letting him taste you.

you lean down and give him a kiss, biting your lip slightly.

“its okay…we can talk later, if you need it i’ll give it to you okay?”

And fuck he almost cries, and he buries his face in your lap. You shush him a little, caressing his hair. Hes hugging your legs.

He lifts his head, and you start unbuttoning your pants. Slowly sliding them down your hips as they fall to the floor. You spread your legs and he whimpers. Your panties are pink this time, and theres a big wet spot on them. And he doesn’t spare a second, he dives his head into your cunt, rubbing his face in it and licking at the wet spot desperately. you moan his name softly, and he cant help but grind his hard cock against the leg of the chair. Hes pathetic but he doesnt care, he wants you to feel good, he wants to make you cum on his face. He groans into your weeping pussy as he thinks about you cumming for him.

He pulls away a little, silently begging you to remove your panties. He wants to see your pussy so bad. His pussy.

You slide down your panties to reveal your soaked cunt. Choso almost growls. He looks up at you, asking for permission to keep going. you nod, your eyes half lidded. Spoiled little princess, he thinks, and thats exactly how hes going to treat you from now on.

he leans in again, kissing your pussy and it makes a wet sound. He licks his lips and groans deeply at your taste. He starts lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated puppy. He’s making out with your pussy now, swiping his tongue all over. You can tell he’s inexperienced, but it doesn’t matter, he’s doing such a good job.

you feel so good, his tongue is too much, its all too much. You love him so much. And you cum unexpectedly, crying out his name, begging him to keep going and he whines. You thrash around and Choso keeps you steady, his strong hands grasping your hips.

After youre done he keeps licking up your cum, making sure youre cleaned.

“Choso…stop, too much,” you say softly.

He pulls away.

His face is covered in your juices, dripping all the way down his neck. And he looks so happy. He stands up, like its on instinct. He needs to hold you.

He grabs you into his arms and plop down onto the bed, with you on his chest. He squeezes you into him, kissing your hair while you slide your panties on again.

“mine,” he says softly. youre his now.

You look up at him, searching his eyes, “Choso i wanna um…you know,” you gesture to his crotch. you want to make him feel good too.

but he looks away shyly. its embarrassing and pathetic, “i um..,” he sits up with you in his lap.

He doesnt feel hard under you anymore. And then it clicks.

“oh my god did you…”

he blushes furiously and nods, “its embarrassing,” he had cum in his pants the second he put his face in your bare pussy.

“no! no…it’s really…hot,” you reason and he looks less embarrassed. He looks into your eyes then, looks at your pretty little face and he already knows he wants you to be his forever.

“do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously.

you giggle and nod eagerly, jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck.

hes the luckiest man in the world he thinks. And you both fall asleep, you laying on his chest.

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

guys they didn’t actually fuck and i’m SORRY

now….part 4?? hey!!! HEY OKAY IM SORRY!! comment if yall want more ill do a lil short one where buddy ACTUALLY looses his virginity.

taglist:

@iqzo @multy-fandom-lover

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo buying (y/n) souvenirs after every mission and finding out she kept EVERYTHING

Pairing: Gojo x reader (fem!pronouns)

Word Count: 1,2k

Synopsis: Since your joyful smile is so addictive, Satoru can't help but buy you a souvenir every time he goes on a mission. After a few months, he realizes by accident that you do, in fact, keep everything he gifts you...

Warnings: this is fluffness overload so be prepared, (y/n) has a really bubbly and Mitsuri-like personality, let me know what you thiiiiink and enjoy your holidays🤍

Your heart jumps up and down in joy, feet carrying you down the hallway at lightspeed. Finally he’s back. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? Definitely too long.

“Satoru!”, you cry out.

There he stands, his arms already wide open while wearing the casual sly grin you adore so much. You can’t contain yourself any longer, your giggles filling his very own heart with nothing but joy.

Satoru doesn’t remember exactly how it all started. After some random mission, he saw a little figure of your favourite animal standing innocently in a show window. He didn’t think much of it, bought it only because it reminded him of you. But oh, you were so joyful back then.

“Are you kidding me?”, you breathed out, glossy eyes staring at the pretty ugly figure so heartfelt that Satoru couldn’t help but shamelessly stare at you.

“It reminded me of you since I know it’s your favourite animal, so yeah…You like it?”

“Like it?”

You grabbed his hands with so much passion that he almost fell backwards, jumping up and down in delight.

“I love it, Satoru! This is probably the nicest thing someone ever did for me!”

It was inevitable from there on. The urge to see your heartfelt joy after every mission became an obsession, forcing him to look into every window, into every shop on the haunt for something you might like. To be honest it made everything more bearable. The loss of his best friend, the people around him dying, all the things that keep him up at night seem to disappear when he’s looking for souvenirs to bring you.

And this.

You almost knock him over by the way you let yourself fall into his arms, hands intertwined behind his back just the way he likes it. Oh, your smell is so intoxicating, as well as your gorgeous appearance sends warm shivers down his spine. How is it even possible that you seem to get more and more breath-taking every time he sees you?

“I was so worried about you! Why didn’t you answer your calls?”, you mumble against the fabric of his uniform, instantly greeted by the singing smell of curses.

“Oh y’know, I had to do a little work from now and then. Like killing off some demons and saving a whole town from getting wiped out. So sorry I didn’t call you back”, he teases you gently.

“That didn’t stop me from getting something for you, though…”

Your eyes widen in sheer excitement, head darting towards him instantly.

“No, you didn’t”, you mutter, lips already forming the most adorable smile.

“Heck yeah I did.”

“I told you over and over that you don’t need to do that, Satoru!”

“Do you like them?”

You bite your lip in a miserable attempt to suppress the wide grin that creeps up your face, cheeks turning the shade of pink that makes Satoru lose his mind.  You are so breath-taking, so pure that it warms his heart.

“Of course I do”, you mumble into your hand.

“There you go.”

He hands you a small box, the brush of his tender touch against your hand sending electricity right through your body. With trembling fingers, you open the light blue ribbon wrapped around it, exposing a simple yet stunning necklace. You desperately try to hold back tears, so moved that you are utterly speechless.

This necklace isn’t this simple. No, engraved into it in Satoru’s iconic handwriting, it says “every thought, you”.

“You can’t be serious about this, Satoru. I really don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve this and even more, (y/n). Do you like it?”

“You ask me if I like it?”, you repeat breathless.

Your finger brushes over the engraving carefully, feeling every curve and every stroke of his elegant hand writing. This must have been expensive – way too expensive for a simple souvenir. But oh how much you love it already, you’ll keep this close to your heart day in and day out.

“I love it. Thank you so much.”

There’s no time to waste. With a swift motion you lunge yourself at him all over again, burying your face against his broad chest. You truly don’t deserve his kindness, his affection. What an outstanding man he is, so tender that it makes you tear up.

“I’d do anything to make you smile”, he mutters into your hair, hands stroking your back ever so gently.

Smile…Oh, you almost forgot!

“Would you…Would you mind coming to my dorm for a second? There’s something I want to give you as well.”

You wipe your tears away unladylike, your hand grabbing his before he’s even able to answer your question.

“Something you want to give to me? Remember when I told you you don’t have to buy me anything?”

“Remember when I told you the same?”, you remark with a slight grin, literally dragging him into your room.

In fact, you stumbled upon this cute figure of a white cat the other day. There was no way you’d leave without buying it, not when it reminded you so much of him.

You swing your drawer open without thinking twice, grabbing the cute little cat with your face glowing in proud.

“Okay, now that’s adorable”, Satoru laughs gently.

Somehow, his eyes get stuck on your drawer though. It looks messy, almost flooding over with all the pieced cramped into it. But no, that isn’t some random rubbish. That figure that stands in the middle of it, it looks so familiar. As well as all those letters, the sweets, the postcards…

It dawns to him, heart skipping a beat. These are all the souvenirs he brought you over the last few years.

“Don’t tell me you kept everything I gave you.”

Oh, please tell him you did.

“Huh?”

Your innocent eyes dart towards the drawer behind you, your cheeks instantly heating up all over again.

“Oh…of course I kept them! Why would I ever throw them away?”

“You even kept the packages of the sweets from last months…”

His heart almost overspills with love. You have to be an angel, too pure and kind for this world. Just one look into your tender eyes is enough to sweep him off his feet, the little cat he holds in his hand sending him over the edge.

“I just love to get reminded of you I guess.”

“And I love you, (y/n). You have to be the most precious human being I’ve ever met.”

The way your eyes widen and your mouth shoots open is priceless. You look so utterly surprised that he can’t help but chuckle while wrapping his strong arms around you all over again.

“Y-you, loving me?”, you stutter.

“Well, I was hoping you’d love me too-“

“I do”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I love you more than any souvenir!”, you babble out.

“That’s what a man needs to hear”, he laughs softly.

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