#YEAH WELL THAT'S WHAT THIS PART DID TO ME

[fanzou]

Here's an idea? The OP guys. Sanji, Zoro, Law, (separately, of course) with a reader who has a crush on them, and they KNOW IT. (But nobody else does) So he just messes with her and gets her to blush, as his was of saying that he likes her too.🤭

Big, Fat, Crush

✗ Pairing(s): Zoro Roronoa x Fem!Reader, Sanji Vinsmoke x Fem!Reader, Law Trafalgar x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: What do they do knowing you have a crush on them?

✗ CW: Reader is wearing a dress in Zoro's first half, Teasing... and it's RUTHLESS, Law makes reader cry but he makes up for it, it gets a little suggestive at the of Sanji's part [Let me know if I missed any]

✗ Total WC: Zoro’s Ver. (1.8K), Law’s Ver. (2.3K), Sanji’s Ver. (1.3K)

✗ A/N: Wow. If you couldn't tell I loved writing this. I didn't intend for it to get so long but here it is! Enjoy love.

ZORO RORONOA

“You want me to get you any more sake, Zoro?”

“Yeah sure, thanks.”

The bar is crowded, but not so much that it was unbearable. You and Zoro found yourselves at the little table across from each other in the very back of the room catching up and debriefing about today’s events. But the day wasn’t so very eventful, otherwise he’d probably be drunk by this point to alleviate and level himself. He liked to really enjoy the end of his day like this. It was a good day.

You were tipsy, but he on the other hand, always held his alcohol well.

“What do you wanna do tomorrow before we leave the island?” You ask him, he liked the silence between you two, even in a rowdy bar, but he didn’t hate when you talked to him either. You asked all the right questions, you weren’t obnoxiously dumb like the rest of the crew, even when you were under the influence.

“Not too sure yet. I didn’t get the time to check out what they had with your excessive clothes shopping.” He says so nonchalantly, taking a sip of the drink you got him.

You pout with your brows furrowed, cute, “I did not buy that many clothes!”

“It probably felt that way ‘cause I was carryin’ the bags all damn day.” He grinned at you, a mischievous one.

You roll your eyes at him, but then giggle into your own drink, “You’re insufferable.”

He doesn’t miss the way you blush at his harmless teasing.

He never does.

-

So…

You end up a little more drunk than anticipated.

And you can’t for the life of you remember what you did last night. Your head was pounding, like, real life pounding through your skull almost like it was angry at you being so reckless just a few hours ago.

But to your relief, your back on the ship, clothes from last night still on and somewhat in tact— a little wrinkled, and your dress was ridden up a bit more than you were comfortable with. You pull it down immediately in embarrassment. Hopefully Zoro didn’t see that. Anyway, you scope out the girl’s quarters to see that Nami and Robin weren’t anywhere to be seen, and there was none of the usual liveliness in the ship that you knew and loved, no running footsteps, bangs, booms, nothing. Assuming that the green-haired man probably took you back to the ship in your drunken state and took his own personal stroll into the small town at the island, you relaxed.

But you were probably gonna get an earful from the crew since Zoro had a tendency to get lost.

Your shame settles in, and you mentally curse at yourself for being so reckless when the team counted on you for being the more careful one of the two. But something about his energy was so comforting, and you felt so safe around him. The fact that he safely took you back to the ship was living proof of that and you got a little flustered at the thought.

How did he carry you back? Bridal? On top his shoulder? Were you faced forwards or back? Maybe not even carried at all, just arm slung around his shoulder— Whatever the case, the thought of the close proximity made you nervous to think about.

To your astonishment you hear a knock on the door to the shared room. “Come in!” You say, your head immediately punishing you for it.

To your surprise, Zoro opens the door, and comes in. He closes the door before he faces you. “You feelin’ alright? You kinda got a little ahead of yourself.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I have the worst head ache of all time.” Your head is in your hands and your hair looks ten times more disheveled than it did when you woke up. You fight the feeling of discomfort and look up at him through messy stands of hair, “What, you’re not going back to enjoy your time with out me? I wouldn’t be so offended.”

He thinks to himself for a moment,

“I was waiting for you to get up.” His arms are crossed onto his chest now. His words are so effortless when he makes your heart jump.

“Zoro, it’s gonna take me a long time to get ready, how ‘bout you just go on ahead?”

You push away the hair covering your face to get a good look at his; his expression is borderline unreadable. It looks foreign on him.

It was all-knowing, it was up to no good. And you can only imagine what that meant.

“I’ll wait.”

-

So, Zoro waited the hour and a half for you to get ready, even though it meant that most of the day was already wasted. He insisted on taking you with him to the town you guys went to only yesterday, stating that it was simply because the crew wouldn’t let him hear the end of it had you both separated. It’s funny though, because you could swear that he was moving a bit differently than he was just yesterday. Whether good or bad, it was off-putting nonetheless. You’ve never seen him act this way.

After dabbling in his fair share of store-visiting to try to tie with yours (Spoiler: he did not.), it was already sunset, and he wanted to go to the bar, but you insisted that you didn’t want a repeat of last night. In his surprising obedience, he listened. You did, however, both meet in the middle for a late night food-grab and settled on a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant. You and Zoro quickly ordered and waited for the delicious meals that you knew you both were going to absolutely demolish.

You finally relaxed your form into the seat, taking advantage of the comfort you felt after walking around all day. You hardly exchanged a few words since you got into the restaurant, presumably because of how much time you spent together all day, so it was a surprise when Zoro opened his mouth to finally speak.

“Y’know, you talk a lot when you’re drunk.”

You halt in your comfort, God, you thought he was gonna forget about this already. Zoro teased you a lot but since you got on this island, it’s easily become relentless. And whatever your shenanigans were about last night were ground for it now.

In an effort to move away from the topic, “Hmm… yeah, don’t we all? Amirite? I’ve heard you say some crazy stuff when you were black-out drunk!” You laughed, lightly slapping the table to emphasize how “funny” it was. He seemed unfazed though, if anything, a little more confident in the words he would utter. His head was resting on his on the palm of his hand now, and that same smirk from earlier returned.

“Guessing none of them were love declarations, huh?”

Time stopped, save for your heart dropping down to your asshole.

Your eyes were wide, and you were praying to God that you misinterpreted the insinuation of what he just said.

“W-What do you mean?” He seemed so fascinated by the situation unraveling between the two of you, his grin never faltering. It was shocking, Zoro never really talked this much about nonsense, if you could call it that.

He chuckles at your shock almost sadistically, “You tried kissing my face the entire night and kept telling me how handsome I was, and how much you lo—”

“STOP!” Your hand not so subtly smacks his mouth shut, and the staff gives you both a weird look.

Great, now I’m making it everyone’s business!

You slowly remove your hand and try to avert your gaze elsewhere, while still fending for yourself. “I’m j-just a loving drunk... I-I guess…” The embarrassment is getting to be too much now, and whatever you say at this point is just going to look like a lie, a big fat lie. And you wanna crawl into the nearest hole and die there. How can you even face the crew anymore? How can you look at him in the eye? Where’s the nearest exit so you can just run far, far away from him?! It seems like you’re plotting for the rest of how your life is gonna be from this point on, until he puts an end to your thoughts.

“C’mon woman. Get real. Why don’t you just face up to it? I see the way you look at me all the time. Drunk or not.” Zoro is leaned all the way back in his chair when you look up, his arms are crossed just how they were this morning. And you just want to melt into your chair at this point. Get away from anything and every thing that exists. Especially Zoro, if it wasn’t obvious. “God, you're naive, naive as hell.”

Embarrassment subsided for a moment, you sit there with your brows furrowed, now trying to piece together his new and probably much more embarrassing revelation. “…What? Why do you say that?”

He scoffs at you, “Y’Really gonna make me say it?”

What?

Zoro was never the articulate type and you respected that, but if there was an instance where you really hated his lack of speech; It was now.

For a split second, he looks a little conflicted on what he was going to say next. Like he was fighting the next words to come out of his mouth, his arms twitch a bit and he lets out a little sigh, shaking his head in what looks like defeat. But before you can say anymore; he gets out of his comfortable position, leans toward you and over the small table, grabs your shirt and…

Kisses you.

It was short, but Zoro thought he was going to die inside trying to build up the courage to say I love you instead. And this, this was so much better.

He would’ve mistook you for a tomato across from him when you sit back from his attack on your lips. He’s a little flustered himself, he does well to mask it, but it was worth your reaction. And since it was late at night the restaurant was almost dead at that point, with you both once again, sitting in the very back. So he wasn’t too crazy about who was watching.

“I’m… I… Um…” you’re trying so hard to get your words together. What the hell just happened. “I…”

Before you can say anything, you eat your words again. The server comes with your long anticipated dinner. He chooses to disregard the absolute mess you look, and some of your lipstick on Zoro’s mouth— and puts your food down onto the table.

“Enjoy you two lovebirds! My, what a beautiful couple you both make!”

LAW TRAFALGAR

The Polar Tang was full of energy today. In the dining hall, the crew sat down and talked the night away.

Penguin and Shachi were laughing it up and finding comfort in their drinks, you and Ikkaku talked about personal affairs over the amazing meal you shared, then Bepo joined in and you three all got a little too into some dumb gossip amongst another pair in the crew.

Safe to say everyone was having the night of their life. Something the Heart Pirates couldn’t do a lot.

All except your captain.

Always buried in his books and studies, Law claims that he wish he could have time to spend with you all, blasé blasé bla, but there was always an excuse that was thrown in your faces. Always. You respected his time and effort, it was something that not a lot of people could do.

So that’s why after your conversation with your friends was drawn to an end and they either resorted to drinking with the rest of the crew or just enjoying more talk, you decided to slip away for a moment. You didn’t know what possessed you to do this, (you did, you just wanted an excuse) but you fix up another plate and swiftly make your way towards your captains room. The food was delicious so, why not? What’s the harm?

The closer you got to his door is the more an anxiety rose in your chest, and your hands were getting a little shaky. There was nothing to be nervous about!

Just maybe seeing his handsome face focused so strongly on a certain text, the way his rough, calloused hand grips the pen so gently, or your favorite part— his parted and unbuttoned shirt, where you can see a window of his chest, not a lot but just enough to leave some imagination to how the rest of his tattooed body might look... And you stop yourself for a second, physically and mentally.

I’m being such a pervert right now.

You resume your slow and anything but steady walk to his quarters and you finally meet face to face with the door.

You pull your first up to knock after taking a very deep breath, but before your skin could touch the surface his voice is already urging you to step inside. And so you obey.

Once inside you immediately start to scan the sight before you, and it wasn’t much different from the one you had in your imagination. Of course this meant that you were a bit flustered coming to him, but you manage, “‘Just wanted to drop off some food for you, in case you couldn’t join us tonight.” You say with a little softness in your tone.

“Thank you. You can put it down on my desk.”

And you obey, again. Walking up to his desk full of papers and books, you quickly realize that it was a little messy and not clean enough to set the plate just anywhere, and his hands scramble through the paper to find a place for you to set the plate down until you finally do. Then, another thought emerges from your fantasy world.

“Do you need help organizing your desk, cap? I have some time and I don’t really feel like going to sleep anyways.”

He smiles softly at you and calls your name in a way that you wish you could hear over and over and over again, and he thanks you once more, “You’ve done enough for me tonight. I appreciate it.” You hide your disappointment in his words, but nod and make your way to the door anyway.

You exchanged your good night’s and make your way to your room. And when you fall back on your bed, you take your pillow and scream into it like a crazed schoolgirl in love.

-

The next morning comes, and you can guarantee that the crew has already started on breakfast. You rub your eyes and start to get cleaned up and fetch a new pair of clothes for the day.

Once you’re all freshen up, you make your way to the dining hall, surprised to hear no ruffling and noise. Maybe everyone was suffering the consequences of last nights drinking challenges, you thought. But even so, it wouldn’t be this quiet.

Your met with Law’s figure in the dining hall and he’s making tea for himself. He notices you, “You’re up really early.”

“Did you even get a wink of sleep?” You say in concern.

He’s silent for a few seconds, and he makes his way to the table to enjoy his freshly brewed drink. “I couldn’t.” Or more like he wouldn't.

You sigh, yup, that was your captain. You thought for a second, thinking about what you could do in order for him to feel better about his own consequences from a lack of sleep. But you know he would just decline most of your suggestions. Instead, you plop yourself in the seat across from him. You both sit in a comfortable silence while you waited for your coffee to be made, and you take a second to scan his tired features.

He does well to hide it in his mannerism, but his face betrays him. You can tell he's deathly tired, and if he let's his eyes close for more than a second you're sure he'd plop right onto the table.

“Take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer.”

You blink, and you blink again. “O-Oh, sorry…” he’s not offended, if anything his face is smug. You’re quick to defend yourself with a little scoff, “Can’t a woman be worried for her captain? You don’t look the best anyway.” You quickly cover your mouth, seriously, how dumb did you have to be?

But he only laughs at your remark, he shakes his head and his smug expression does not leave his face. “It’s a little hard to not point out when you do it all the time.”

“I do not!”

“Do too.”

“I don’t!”

“Don’t what?” Shachi comes into the room completely oblivious to what you guys were bickering childishly about. He’s rubbing his eyes, “Why are you both up so early? Especially you,” he points at you, “You drank a lot.”

You roll your eyes, you hardly drank. And now you were a little embarrassed at his public revelation, (though it was a secret to nobody but Law,) and your face grows a little red.

The rest of the crew gets up one by one and soon enough breakfast is served. You barely pick up your head anymore out of shame of your earlier dispute, if you could even call it that, with your captain. Bepo is talking about something he encountered a while back while on an adventure with Law, usually you’d be invested, but you were far too in your zone.

And so you get up and make your way to your room, the gloominess practically radiating off of you. Your absence is barely noticed due to the focus everyone had on Bepo’s story.

Law notices, though.

He excuses himself and Bepo gets a little upset, but he understands and respects his captain, so he resumes his dramatic story that keeps everyone on the edge of their seat. You, on the other hand, were now face flat on your pillow mumbling self-deprecating comments to yourself after the terrible situation you were just in.

That was so embarrassing. My captain hates me. It’s so obvious. Why do I do this to myself. Why did I think that was okay. I’m going to escape. (You were under water) This is dumb. I’m du—

*Knock Knock*

You lift your head up even though you didn’t want to, “No.” is all you could manage.

“It’s your captain.”

As much as you wanted to tell him to piss off and let yourself drown in the shame you felt, you couldn’t. Because at the end of the day, it was as your captain proclaimed, though you wanted it to be much more, there was nothing you could do. Nothing, especially after today's consequences.

After a bit of hesitance and a lot of hurt in your voice, you tell him, “You can come inside.”

He cracks the door open a smidge to further observe your well-kept room and there you were, lying on your stomach with your arms crossed, face laying against them and your eyes away from his. It wasn’t the most appropriate sight for your captain to walk in on, but you two were close enough for him to get comfortable enough to let the door open and let himself all the way into your room.

He walks towards you and pulls a chair over, turns it around and manspreads against it to take his seat-- and you really wanted to take in the sight completely, but even that wasn’t enough to get your mood back up and running.

“You left.”

“Why do you care?” You turn your head the opposite way facing the wall beside you. Law doesn’t say anything for quite some time and you can almost bet on your tears slipping soon. He was making this so much more worse than it had to be.

He calls your name, and you just wanna melt into the soft fabric beneath you. “Look at me.”

You disobey.

After your reluctance to his order, he draws out a sigh. You always were the most stubborn of the crew. So with this, he thinks long and hard on his next words or actions, and finally lands on one possible outcome.

“You leave me no choice.”

“Wha— Law!” He turns you around by your waist and forces you up with just one hand. Then, before you know it, your body is slung across his broad shoulder while he finds his bicep tight around your thighs. You were facing backwards while he carried you. “Now you’re calling me by name, no captain anymore?" he laughs, "I think I’ve gone too soft on you.”

“What are you doing!?” You say, trying to get out of his grasp, but even with all of your strength, he was no match for you. “Someone will see!”

“No they won’t. I’m taking you to my room.” He opens the door in one swift motion and kicks it in another.

“And you’re not explaining why!” You hit his back in defiance. You were halfway through the corridor to meet his room already, so you just give up.

He takes no time in entering his room, finally putting you down and ordering you to sit on a spare seat in the grand environment. You were insanely nervous at this point, taken aback by his sudden action and the intimacy of it all. He’s peering down at you with a seriousness in his gaze that makes you put your head down in the worst shame you’ve felt since you’ve woken up.

You always thought that maybe, you might have had a chance with him one day. All that was thrown out the window now.

And it's time to swallow your pride. You take a deep breath, and build a whole lot of courage, and:

“I’m sorry, for saying that about you in the dining hall. And getting smart with you. And calling you by your first na—”

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?”

And there it is, you feel the tears build up once again, and it hurts. Because the firmness in his voice is always the same. So demanding and... so difficult for you.

“And I don’t know why I’m attracted to you. I don’t understand why I tolerate the things you do.”

You start crying now, because you don’t know what else to do. You don’t know the sincerity of his words, and you hold yourself in the chair that you sat on, trying your best to look away from him.

He walks towards you and gets on his knees in front of you, It was a little bit of a blow to his own pride, and it wasn’t something he would do for anyone else at all. But you were different. You’re still crying and you weakly try pushing him away and looking to the side and the new guilt starts to form itself inside of him, but he insists that he stays where he is. He’s whispers an I’m sorry before his hands find solace on your jaw while both of his thumbs wipe your tears away. You look down at him with the most beautiful eyes he’s seen, your gaze softens at him and your crying calms down a little bit seeing that he wasn't so serious anymore, but instead his expression was a little desperate.

-- He’s still got a lot to make up for, and he knows now was not the time to press you on anything else— there was nothing to press anyways. You were perfect, in every aspect of the word. He just enjoyed the idea of teasing you, not anyone else, but he took it too far.

When he was sure that you were more comfortable in his arms, he pulled you down and pushed the chair away. He takes you in his embrace and whispers his apologies into your ear so genuinely.

“This wasn’t the way I thought this would go.” He lets the thousandth sigh out of his mouth today. You look into his eyes with a questioning expression, “I mean that, I fucked it up.”

It was your turn to feel guilty again, but you were tired of words.

You just take his face in your hands just as he did not so long ago, and you both look at each other for a moment. His eyes look to your lips for a second, and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was just as eager as you, maybe he was. His lips inch towards yours and they take no time in meeting.

It’s slow, soft, sensual. And it takes a while for your mouths to part. When they do, all you can do is stare at each other.

You finally breathe, “Okay,” you face turns to the side to escape his beautiful one.

“Maybe all of that was pretty worth it.”

SANJI VINSMOKE

You’ve been avoiding Sanji all week.

And he can’t decide if he should talk to you about it or not, he’s leaning more towards the latter, just because he’s too into the nervousness that suddenly appears on your face when you’re in close proximity. Then; you’re scrambling to the nearest door and half-assing an excuse about where you need to be or what you need to do.

He personally loves when it’s breakfast, lunch, or dinner and he gets to not only cook your favorite meals and you can’t escape him, otherwise the crew would immediately worry for your absence. He also enjoys how embarrassed you get when you can feel him staring at you. Alas, he can’t stand the inability to talk to you and be in your unwanted presence anymore, he needed to make his move on you quick.

You see, earlier this week a battle occurred between you, Sanji, and an enemy that threatened the Thousand Sunny.

You and Sanji had both agreed to guard the ship while the rest of the crew had prepared their own duties on the foreign land, he insisted that there would be no good food supply and there was already enough stocked up from the last. It was a no-good devil fruit user, who wielded the ability to make its opponent confess a super big secret, to then throw them off completely, and defeat them. It was like a weak spot-- psychological warfare more so. And… he got you.

Can you guess what your secret was?

For certain, the devil fruit did its magic. And Sanji was surely taken aback, but adamant on defending the ship and more importantly, you, he did his part and tried with all his might to fight the bad guy off and made a mental note to immediately come find you afterwards.

You were close to passing out from shock after the bewildering confession, but when you came to, the blonde sat right beside you in a shit-eating grin, “So… you’re crushin’ on me, princess?” And you wanted to pass out again, but instead you just run for the ship and locking yourself in your room, ignoring his pleas to come back and talk about it.

Ever since that day, the atmosphere between you two had been a bit awkward. Conversations weren't as light and smooth, you tried finishing your food as fast as possible and managing a quick thank you before making a bee line to the girls room, and most importantly— everyone took notice of how distant you got from Sanji.

Usopp fell victim to the awkward encounters more often than the rest, and it was safe to say they were getting on his last nerve now. "Whatever you did, you should apologize, man!" He pats his back as a sign of encouragement. And for a second it almost felt like you and him were a married couple having problems, it brought a smile to his face.

Not to worry, he had a plan.

-

You joined Robin in a comfortable silence below the deck, praying to the heavens you wouldn’t hear from the blonde cook while the sun set so beautifully. Your original ploy was to just act like it never happened, but anytime you saw him it was like re-imagining the entire scenario over and over again.

Your head is hanging off the chair while you doze off and Robin is reading her book— appreciating your silence, the weather was just a little windy and the sky had a nice orange and red gradient to it. The waves were crashing against the boat but it wasn’t overbearing, it was just fine.

You asked Robin to read her book out loud, even though you weren’t following the storyline, you found comfort in her melodic voice and how softly she read it and sure enough she would be lulling you to sleep soon.

But before you could finally reach sleep like you intended, there’s a presence you can sense, and Robin puts her beautiful voice to a halt. You don’t want to open your eyes but it almost seems like you have to.

And you immediately regretted it.

Above you was Sanji. “Hi.”

“Sanji!” He moves a little back from you, and you straighten your posture, wide awake. “I was just leaving actually, I have to clean the girls room! I lost a bet a while back. So… I’m gonna go do that.”

“I don’t think that bet ever happened but, I’m not entirely opposed to you doing that for us.” Robin says smugly. You loved her but the betrayal on your face spoke volumes in that moment.

You’re already defeated and you’re trying to muster up another shitty excuse, “We can’t delay this anymore than we have.” He takes your hand and you can only burn eyes at the skinship. You’re lightheaded again, just like that day you confessed.

And he drags you into the kitchen with him before you can defy him a hundred times over, he locks the door to slow down your escape, and if anyone came in on the two of you.

He finally turns around to look at you with the most frustrated expression littered all over his face.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asks you in desperation, and you kinda wanted to slap him out of your own mixed emotions, because it was pretty obvious as to why. He catches on shortly after, “Okay, scratch that. Why is it necessarily a bad thing that you have feelings for me?”

“Please Sanji, let’s just forget about i—”

“How do I forget something like that? Why are we holding this off? Are we just never gonna talk about it?” You sense some repressed anger boiling up inside of him, and to tell the truth you’ve never seen him speak to any woman like this, so raw and nothing to hold back. “Listen, the cat’s out the bag, right? What’s the point in hiding it if we both feel this way about each other?”

…

…

…

“You… felt the same way… and you’re just now telling me this?” You walk towards him, he looks away in shame.

“It’s not about how you feel towards me, I’m just not worthy of you. I don’t deserve you.” You push him out of sheer frustration, and he just lets you.

Sanji assumes you’ll just use him as your personal punching bag at this point with the amount of self-deprecating thoughts he’s already throwing at himself in his head, but all of them were replaced once you took him by the shoulders and pulled him into a powerful kiss. He was in shock, but he quickly melted into it, grabbing you by both sides of your face, and you pull away.

“All you did was tease me and taunt me and put me over the edge these past few days, for what? Just to reveal that you wanted me too?” You scoff, but your lips betray you. You lean back into the kiss and it’s so much more passionate than before. His hands find comfort in your hips.

After the kiss got a little too passionate, and Sanji already making his move on your neck, you all but gave into him. So willingly.

“You locked the door, right?” You ask.

He grins into the quick kiss, excited by your insinuation, “Yeah.”

meanwhile, on the deck

Chopper quickly becomes your replacement for Robin, although not as quiet, she does equally enjoy her time with you both.

Choppers stomach gives him away, “Robin, I’m hungry. Do you know if Sanji’s making dinner soon?”

Robin smirks, and pats Chopper on the head.

“He’s busy with something right now, I think it would be best if we didn’t bother him, either.”

[princesssmars]

so...we can all agree vi is an ass girl, right?

modern!au. 18+ content ahead. post contains lesbian sex and dry humping. inspired by this video from love and deepspace. i didnt know they got down like that. wc : 3.081.

she didn't show it often before, but lately violet could quickly become so achingly desperate for you.

she didn't show it often, but violet could become so achingly desperate.

at the start of your relationship, she tried to play off her need for you in a casual way, brushing it off as just being a very attentive girlfriend. you never had a problem with, always open and accepting of whatever little bits of attention she would give to you.

but then one day she slips, and she can feel your dynamic shift as soon as it happens.

she was away visiting her family for the holidays, body snugly tucked under the covers in her childhood bed as she held her phone above her face. the house was quiet, the air was cold, and she was having an internal battle with the reasonable part of her that told her to call it a night and drift off to sleep already...

and then there was the other side. the one that suddenly brings to her attention the steady heat that’s been building beneath her stomach after you sent the prettiest photo of you all dolled up in your parent’s guest bathroom. the one that made her bite her lip as she observed every inch of you through the screen before instantly liking the photo and sending back a flirty message. the one that now gravitated her fingers to calling your phone in the middle of the night and hoping and praying you’d pick up, nearly breathing a sigh of relief when you did.

"vi? are you alright?"

loaded question, she thinks to herself. in perfect health? of course. of sound mind? debatable, but for the most part yes. alright? no, definitely not at the moment.

"yeah, yeah, i’m alright princess. just wanted to talk to you."

"aww, you're such a sweetie. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

and yes, she does appreciate and silently adore the sweet sentiment. but the sound of you cooing at her with just the tiniest hint of a rasp in your voice from tiredness only cements her fate, having to use all of the rational energy she has left to stop whimpering.

"tell me how your trips been. wanna hear your voice for a little longer."

"no problem. well im fine, everyone here is good. besides my aunt nat, she's still moody because no one allowed her in the kitchen again-"

you go on about your family and their shenanigans, and she cant help but quietly laugh along when you giggle about some of the stories and memories you've made. but the 'conversation' takes a turn when you start to talk about her.

"you know i miss you, right?"

she feels a subtle pang in her chest, half longing and half desire. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. rolled over in bed this morning and kept trying to find you till i realized where i was. it's weird not waking up with you."

she hums, hoping you cant hear her stuttered breaths through the receiver. she doesn't know why hearing about you subconsciously looking for her embrace is what does it for her, but she can only give a short response as one of her hands trails down into boxers.

"wish i could've been there with you, baby."

"mmm, me too. missed your warmth, swear you're like my own personal heater. wish you could be here with me now."

her breathing stops and her eyebrows raise. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. missed your hands, too."

fuck, fuck fuck fuck. she's taken off guard, mind racing at your words and tone and before she knows it she has two fingers stuffed inside of herself while she quietly whimpers for you to keep talking to her.

"fuck, just a little more baby, please, 'm so close-"

"aww, you're such a good girl for me, aren't you violet?"

she swears she bites her lip so hard it nearly bleeds when she cums, walls clenching around her fingers and eyes rolling back into her head as she reaches her peak while you talk her through it.

the next week when she picks you up from the airport she can see it, a glimmer in your eye and quick in your smile that wasn't there before. she tries to ignore it when she pulls you in for a long-awaited embrace but then she just gets so enveloped in your warmth, your smell, the feeling of your body pressed hers. she's only yanked out of her lovestruck stupor when you whisper a sly little comment in her ear about how long and tight she's been holding you.

"call me crazy but if i didnt know any better i'd say you're feeling a little desperate for me."

so the cats out of the bag. she's super attached to you, so what? it's not like you ever complained about it, instead constantly using her neediness to your advantage to get what you want from her. you'll likely never have to beg and convince her to get up from bed to change the thermostat again, only needing to graze your hand across her chest and press a lingering kiss to the space beneath her chin before she's leaping out of bed and speedwalking down the hall.

and don't even get her started on her libido. the both of you had an amazing sex life already, able to almost instinctually tell what brought the other the most mindblowing pleasure possible. but ever since that night, it's like her desire for you only increased tenfold, barely able to go a day without getting her hands on you or vice versa.

it only reached a head when you decided to truly test her limits.

she had taken up a later shift to help out loris who had a date, which meant by the time she returned home she was too tuckered out to have her way with you. but during times like these, she could always count on the early morning sun waking her up just in the rich window of time for morning sex. but when the light rays peek through her bedroom window and she uses her arm to pull you closer she finds you absent, your side of the bed cold.

after a brief search through the house, she opened her text messages just to find your sent a sweet text only an hour before she’d woken up to tell her your friends had invited you on a last minute girls day around the city the night before, and you didn’t want to wake her from her sleep since she seemed exhausted when she got home.

vi groans and falls back into the pillows, lousily texting you back a short message to tell you she loves you and hopes you have fun with your friends. she’ll be alright, she can go a few more hours without you near.

but only an hour later after she’s showered and eaten a quick breakfast she feels the ache start to build in her chest, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall and groaning when realizes just how long this day is going to feel.

everything she tries to do to keep her mind off of you fails miserably. doing chores? she's thinking back on the time when the both of you first split up household duties when you moved in together, feeling giddy at sharing something so menial with the girl she was enamored with. making herself a protein shake for the gym? now she's stuck in a daydream about all the times you've been in this kitchen together, sharing sweet baked goods and sweeter kisses as you settle into domestic bliss.

she has got to get out of the house.

jayce understood her problem as soon as she called inviting her down to the gym for a few hours to work off any ‘pent-up energy’ she’s currently... unable to get out in her preferred method.

it works for a while, the familiar smell of sweat and the slight ache in her muscles grounding her back into reality as she makes casual gym talk with jayce. she's just starting to feel like the absence of you is off of her mind when she hears your text notification on her phone, accidentally leaving her place as jayces spotter to open up her phone.

as soon as her brain registers that you’ve sent her pictures she makes up some lame excuse to get to the bathroom, tuning out her friend's groan of disapproval as she speed walks to the restrooms and locks herself in one of the stalls.

the first few messages are sweet, little selfies of you and your friends as you enjoy your day together as you get some sweet treats together at one of the malls concession stands. a lovesick smile involuntarily grows on her face, always happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself with the people who care about you. but her eyes start to squint when you start to send pictures of you trying on various outfits from some of the outlet stores, posing demurely in front of the trying room mirrors.

but then her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when suddenly shes getting photos of you in her vagina's favorite enemy - lingerie.

even before vi started acting so eager about your body, it wasn't hard for you to catch on to the fact that the woman was so clearly an ass girl. even on five hands, you wouldn't be able to count the number of times you’d caught her staring or sneaking small glances at your behind, not to mention how she thought she was being discreet about her affection for it with the numerous times she’d slap it when walking by you. she tried to laugh it off when you brought it up in conversation, assuring you that she loved each and every part of you and could never pick a favorite.

but now you were determined to really see how much she wanted you, using every dirty trick in the book you could think of. she feels her face get hot as she looks down at her phone, the image of you in lacy lingerie, back facing the mirror as the magenta fabric (nearly the same shade as her hair, jesus christ,) stretches across the swell of your ass and crisis crosses across your back.

her brain short circuits. before she can think about it she’s saving the pictures to her phone and calling you at the speed of light.

“hey, violet. how’s your day?”

“you are so… evil. amazing and beautiful and evil.”

your giggle rings through the receiver, melodic and teasing. “what's the problem? you don't like the set?”

“don’t even joke. when are you getting home?”

“mmm not till late, the girls wanted to go to a club tonight.”

“oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“do you want me to send you the address?”

vi hasn't been to a nightclub in months, at first harshly avoiding the hard party scene in favor of her sobriety before feeling no need to indulge in the party scene once her life became more stable, especially after she met you. but she never stopped you from going out and having fun with your friends, tagging along once in a blue moon to sip on a mocktail while she chatted up the bartender and stared at your ass while you danced.

tonight was an extremely necessary blue moon.

the air is hot, and the feel of her drink burns her throat as vi waits at the bar, blue eyes wide and aware as she stares at the club’s crowded entrance like it owes her money. the bartender asks if she’s alright, scared she’s waiting for someone to arrive to jump them before she assures them she’s fine. they slowly nod and get back to making drinks, nearly dropping a glass out of fright when she slams her glass on the bar and quickly makes her way over to you.

if she wasn't so laser-focused on finally getting her hands on you she might've been a little cocky at the fact that you look like you were about to salivate at the sight of her, knowing she made the right decision to wear the tight pants she knew you loved on her. in only a second she’s got her hands settled on your waist, not caring that your friends are laughing at her clear excitement over seeing you in your club outfit, a tiny dress so she can see the wide expanse of your legs, your arms, your shoulder - fuck, the straps of the pink bra aren’t even hidden by the strapless dress-

“wanna dance with me?” your voice is nothing short of flirtatious, and you already know your answer by the way you start to walk past her to the dance floor, already predicting how she follows you like she’s on a leash.

as the both of you grind and dance in the middle of the club every thought racing through vi’s head is centered on you, physically and mentally unable to focus on anything else when she finally has you so close again after what felt like years. she feels a familiar sense of euphoria when her palms glide up and down your waist, smirking to herself when she feels you shudder when her hands reach up to cup and discreetly squeeze your breasts. she’s feeling happy about finally starting to turn the tables back on you before you arch your back into her, your ass pressing into her as your hand reaches up to her head, nails dusting along her cheek before reaching into her hair and pulling.

it’s only to be expected that that’s her breaking point, dragging you through the dancing bodies and into the back of the building until she can find anywhere to get you alone, thanking any god that exists above that she finds an open storage closet and drags you inside, pressing you face first towards the door. a little voice in her head reminds her not to be too rough with you, but it’s quickly silenced when she sees just how much you crave it, how your back is yet again arching and your hands are clenching into fists from their places on the wooden door.

it's nice, to remember that you want her as much as she wants you.

in only a few seconds she’s given into it, pressing you further into the door by pressing her body against yours and grinding her crotch into the fat of your ass, eyes lidded and head dropping to rest on your shoulder from the rush of pleasure she feels below.

“vi, oh my god-” your voice is light and airy, every word almost choked out as you struggle to prevent yourself from moaning out and alerting every person in the bar about what the two of you were up to.

“i know, fuck, I know, baby. i just-” she cuts herself off with a groan when she lets her hand travel down your front and under your dress to your panties, face running hot when she feels just how wet you’ve gotten. she’s all but rushing to ruche up your dress, mind going fuzzy yet again at seeing the pink fabric covering your ass and how it feels under her when she begins humping you yet again.

“nngh, knew it. knew you were an ass girl.” you giggle.

“god, please stop talking-”

whatever snarky little comment you were going to make dies in your throat when her arm comes up and around your neck to hold your jaw, turning your head around and smashing her lips onto yours. you whimper and moan into her mouth, violet greedily eating the noises of your pleasure as she takes you up against the door.

you pull back for a few seconds to catch your breath, both of your eyes drifting to the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together.

she can feel it, then. an almost electric charge that runs form her body into yours. you lean into her touch, arch into her further like you’re trying ot merge your bodies into one. when her other hand tightens around the pushed-up fabric of your dress and she gets that absolutely adorable scrunch between her eyebrows you know what she’s asking, and you gently nod your head.

and so she presses her lips back to yours, her crotch further into your ass, and rides you in the cramped nightclub storage closet. she's grateful that you seem to be enjoying it just as much as she is, her mind completely focused on getting closer and closer to her peak. she can feel it building quickly, a growing heat below her stomach reach to burst at any moment. all it takes is you, sucking on her tongue before mumbling muffled words into her mouth begging for her to finish against you. she cums with a stifled moan into your mouth, only amplified when she feels you shudder and go loose in the legs beneath her.

you’re both panting, sweaty, and tired as you stare at each other. it’s a comfortable silence as you help each other adjust - vi fixing your dress and you attempting to put her hair back in her signature style.

“so,” your voice lilts up as vi’s busy fixing her jacket, debating if she wants to take it off to cool down or not, knwoing she’ll probably just wrap it around your arms outside anyway. “you gonna admit it yet?”

she rolls her eyes, looking at you with an exasperated but fond look in her eyes that makes your stomach flip. “you just love being proven right, don’t you?”

“absolutely.”

“fine, you were right. are you happy?”

“very. now, let’s go home annnd maybe,” your fingers hook into the loops of her pants and tug her closer,”you can show me a little more just how much you need me, yeah?”

maybe, vi would show her neediness for you more often. just a little.

[bblairxe]

— ୨ৎ needy ! ellie x reader . mdni

    “fuck baby, please, please untie me”

    ellie pissed you off, completely pissed you off. it started with just an innocent yap session, her back flushed against her headboard and your thighs straddling her lap. you were ranting about your new interest and how much it meant to you. going on and on about how dull you felt before discovering it, and that it changed your life completely. 

    she was listening, well trying her best to listen, but it was just so, so hard. she kept getting lost in the way your eyes lit up when you would go into depth about it, or how your lips curled up into the sweetest smile. 

    you would notice though, all of her nods and ‘mhms’ would just fade into silence and a still head. 

    “ellie, ellie!” her eyes snap back to yours, pulling her out of her thoughts. “did you hear me?” 

    she gives you a clueless expression, but still slowly nods her head, dragging out a long ‘yes’.

    “oh yeah, then what did i say?” your arms cross over your chest, obviously you’re not convinced. the girl has been staring at your lips for the past 5 minutes! 

    “you were talking about the, um, the uh, solar system!” her tone is confident, but you can tell she hasn’t heard shit you said. regardless, you let her pass and continue rambling on. 

    for once, she actually starts listening again. nodding her head, asking questions, humming after every couple of sentences. it was actually really sweet, like a bonding moment for the two of you. well, that’s until you get too excited and bounced on her lap. 

    her chest tightened, you were clueless but the impact sent a shock to her cunt. she tightened her hold on your hips to stabilize herself, but that didn’t work either. her eyes fell down to your white, floral tank top, and the way they hugged your boobs perfectly. she knew she was faltering again, but damn did you look good.

    yes, her hands on your her hips were to just help her maintain composure, but she has other things in mind. according to her, if you stay in this exact position and just pushed your lower half a little closer to hers, she’d be relieving that ache in her core.

    so she tried it, and god did it feel good. 

    she kept her eyes trained on your face, being attentive but with a different focus. her hands rested on your hips and pushed them, ever so slightly, to her heat. it connects and it takes every ounce of her to not let out the whiniest noise ever.

    every time the two of you meet, her hips buck up. her lip is taught between her teeth, trying to conceal those noises that are fighting to come out. she took in every part of you, her eyes now glued onto chest, staring at how your tits slightly jiggle with each movement.

    you’re not oblivious to whole situation. it’s affecting you too, but you just have a better way of hiding it than ellie. you look down at her face and it’s absolutely pathetic. her mouth is agape, formed into a little o - shape, small gasps leaving her lips. her eyes are doe - eyed, with teary lashes. poor baby feels so good she starts tearing up. 

    she noticed you stopped talking, your eyes burning into her face. an immediate stream of apologies come out, but she doesn’t stop her movements. in fact, they’re more intense, more desperate.

    “s - sorry, didn’t mean too — mmh, ahhh — didn’t mean too, m’ sorry baby, feels so good,” 

    her head falls backwards, giving you complete access to her neck. you lean down, sucking until small purple bruises dot the skin, like a twisted painting. the feeling elicits a loud whine from her, nails digging into your sides as if she’ll die if you leave.

    your lips come up to hear ear, grazing it and whisper, “i know, baby. hope i’m making you feel good right now, you’ll be begging for more later.”

    and that’s how she ended up here. 

    her hands were now restricted above her head  by your favorite dark red handcuffs. it’s a beautiful sight, really. ellie all tied up for you, her legs spread and hips bucking in search for friction. every sentence that leaves her lips is either a string of apologies or promises to make you feel good. 

    you on the other hand had your legs splayed out in front of her, fucking your fingers in and out of your pussy. you knew it didn’t feel the same, nothing could compare to the way ellie fucks you, but you still had to put on a show.

    “fuck,” draws out from your lips, your breath hitching dramatically. you drag your fingers out for a second then, plunging them back deep into you. a soft, shaky moan slips and you know it’s driving ellie crazy. 

    her pupils are blown out as she watches you. her knuckles turn white, fingers twitching like she can feel the ghost of your skin against hers. another metal clank echoes throughout the bedroom from her tugging at her restraints, begging, pleading to be released. “baby, i’m sorry, you look so pretty, and i promise i’ll make you feel good. just please, please, please, please.”

    your fingers slow down, but still curling enough to release small moans. you watch as she tries to rut against nothing, seeking relief she won’t get. 

    “you wanna make me feel good?” you hum, kneading your chest with your free hand. 

    she nods frantically, her mouth parts to speak but you shoot her a look that silences her. “yeah?  and what makes you think you deserve that?” you drag your fingers out of your cunt, spreading it for her. 

    she gawks at the sight, drool nearly spilling out of her lips. “b-because i fucked up, and i wanna make it up to you, please.” 

    you’re amused to say the least, seeing her need to please you sends a wave of possessiveness and control through your body. a smile forms at her desperation, tilting your head in a condescending way. 

    “oh, love. you’re gonna have to do a lot more begging than that.”

🏷️ : @ellieslosttwofingers @polarhues @pornoangelz @sapphichounded

[kisssukuna33]

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always have you over at his house the night before an important match. It helps with the stress he says.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always put on a TV show before you two settle into the couch for cuddles. Usually the cuddling session is a mix of him relaxing against you as you ask him questions about the match tomorrow.

"You packed an extra pair of shorts this time right? Remember what happened last time"

"yeah I did"

"Did you iron the clothes?"

"Uraume took care of it"

"That new protein shake your nutritionist recommend, Did you take it?"

"Already did"

"What about the snacks during the game tomorrow? did Uraume-

"oh my god baby relax, it's all taken care of"

He says in somewhat of an annoyed tone as he pulls you even closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you. But deep down he loves it when you are concerned about him like this.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who insists that having a good time before the match tomorrow isn't a problem to him but you reject the offer firmly because you know how Sukuna gets whenever you two started something.

It always ends up dragging for hours so no, your bf needs his beauty sleep for tomorrow.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who pouts slightly when you say no to him but decides to settle with the short make out session instead, better than nothing he thinks.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who teasingly steals few touches from your sensitive areas, clearly trying to rile you up but stops after seeing the glare you gave him.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who never seems to be the type to get much nervous before matches. Because of his Overconfidence? His never ending Ego? maybe. But his ability to stand strong in situations like this always makes your heart flutter.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always makes sure you get the best VIP seat to his match, You always need to be in the front lines where he can see you from clearly when he beat up his opponent back to his ancestors.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always find a way to bring you up in the Media press. Sukuna is widely known by the audience for being a down bad "simp" for his girlfriend as well as a complete disaster for his opponents.

"Mr Ryomen, Do you know there's a whole talk in the internet about you being a simp for your girlfriend? What do you have to say to people who spread things like that?"

"Keep spreading the truth I guess. The internet definitely needs it more"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who hurries back to his changing room and jumps straight into your arms. Despite your constant nagging for him to get patched up first.

"Baby did you saw the jab-cross I threw before he hit the ground?"

"Yeah it was Amazing Ryo!"

"I did good than the last match, didn't I?"

"Yeah you always do"

"Then I deserve way more than that cheap kiss you gave me earlier don't I?"

"Get patched up first you freak, Uraume's waiting"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who lets you both into his house as he holds your waist with one arm. He let go of your waist as he makes his way for the bathroom while murmuring something about showering first.

As he started to shower you turn on the tv with the intention of seeing the live match you saw today in the digital screen. And it immediately cuts to a interview Sukuna did just right after winning.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who seems enthusiastic as ever talking to the reporters about the match he did and the opponent he beat. Not long after he adds a little appreciation from his part.

"My manager Uraume helped me with a lot of stuff so I truly appreciate them. Also my girlfriend stayed up beside me every night when I practiced and supported me in everything, this win is hers as much as it is mine."

"if you're watching this I love you baby"

A warm feeling start to take over your chest as you hear his words. The man who's appreciated and idolized by millions saying these things so casually to you, you still can't get your mind around it.

Then the reporter use his luck to ask a risky question one more time.

"it's look like you two have a great relationship together, what do you think about marriage Mr Ryomen?"

To that question Sukuna doesn't respond but instead returns a well knowing little grin as he waves off the interview.

"Tch why did they ruin the moment by asking that, now it looks like he doesn't want to marry me" you said to yourself.

Just as you were about to leave to the kitchen to grab a snack, something shining inside the closet that Sukuna forgot to shut earlier catches your eyes.

Hidden by the cloth piles it was a little jewelry box that had familiar initials on top of it.

It was none other than yours and Sukuna's.

Wait..

No that can't be, Yeah maybe this is the earrings he wanted to give you before.

But much to your surprise the box opened up to reveal a gorgeous wedding ring. A big diamond you sure costed atleast 5 six figures alone sitting on top of it. Inside the ring you and Sukuna's initials were carved into it making it seem even more special to your eyes.

Your heart is jumping from excitement and happiness, everything about your life is starting to get better and better and you can't help but thank Sukuna for it.

You don't want to ruin the surprise he planned for you of course. So you put the box back to it's place and sit on the bed till he's done showering patiently but the stupid smile you had since earlier didn't left your face for once.

"Alright I'm done showering let's slee- what's with you?"

"What's with me? nothing Ryo"

"You're are smiling very creepily woman"

"Ryo that's mean! My smile is not creepy!"

"Yeah whatever come here, freak"

Sukuna says as he drags you closer to his side of the bed while turning off the bedside lamp at the same time. Your bodies intertwine with each other like it was always meant to be. Sukuna's hands wrapping around you as he buries his face into your neck.

"Ryo?"

"hmm"

"I love you"

You can feel a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I love you too princess, more than anything"

Boxing Kuna is my favorite <33

No grammar checks though sorry :/

[suiana]

just a thought but imagine jirai kei bf before u start dating him ☝️

yandere! jirai kei bf who would literally curse the whole world just to be with you. he's the type of guy to go "on EVERYONE'S soul I'll be dating y/n by 2026" and actually tweak out (maybe even start a world war) if you reject him.

"on EVERYBODY'S life i will get into a relationship with them."

"erm???" <- some random person btw

"if i fumble you ALL go down with me."

yeah, i dont know if it's obvious to you but he's willing to bet everything on you. 'all in on red' ahhh reaction 🎰 anyway that's not the important part. the important part is that he looks CUTE doing it so to be honest, does it really matter if he tweaks out???

"be honest right now, you think I'm cute right?"

"well i guess... btw who even are you-"

"good, we're dating now ☺️"

"no???"

he's batshit insane. did i mention that? he's crazy. like genuinely crazy. thats why he's... a landmine, isn't he??? like??? erm... #delusion

at least he has good fashion taste too??? cute and good fashion taste??? haha that's definitely enough to make up for him taking over your life and ruining everything, right?

"bro you need to get out like right now."

"but i belong here?"

"I don't even know your NAME"

"so?"

he's so annoying. so annoying that you ended up dating him actually. yeah, bad idea. but what were you supposed to do? it's not like you could just destroy his shrine for you and toss all his makeup and cute fits into the bin...

"darling! have you seen my stuff? i just can't seem to find them anywhere☹️"

"yeah i threw them out."

"..?"

[gothamrain]

THAT’S NOT A PART OF YOUR ASSIGNMENT

Dick Grayson x art student!reader || 1.6k words

Warnings: smut, naked cuddling, blow job, slight exhibitionism but not quite

Summary: You have an assignment for figure drawing and thankfully have a willing model (along with yourself). Time to take some reference photos. Unfortunately for one horny boy, this means he can’t move. lol poor guy.

a/n: goddd i’m a senior so i’ve spent a bajillion hours in figure by now oof. so here, let me indulge my fantasies. need me a muse like Dick Grayson… well, maybe it’s for the best, since this fic shows how i wouldnt be getting anything done with him around agdjhsajhfk

“Hey, Dickie, can you come in here for a second?” you called and instantly you heard the sock feet of your fiancé come padding towards you.

“Do you need me for something, Baby?”

You were too distracted with the task at hand to pick up on his flirting, “Yeah, just come lay on the bed for a bit.”

“Oooh. Of course~” Dick grinned as he eyed the camera you were adjusting on its tripod before he flopped down onto the bed, “any particular pose?”

“Nah I’m just fixing it right now, you can do whatever as long as you stay on the bed,”

You had meant, like, maybe he could scroll on his phone while you worked. But he took that as ‘whatever sexy pose you want, Babe’ and began showing off his lithe body. Little distracting, but you were used to him enough to successfully ignore it. But damn, was it hard. Especially when he turned around so you could get a nice view of his ass.

“So, we shooting sex tapes or what?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, we’re not shooting sex tapes. I need references for a piece for Figure. We’re supposed to be focusing on the ways the human body will fit together, so we need at least two models,”

“Sound’s intimate,” he schmoozed.

You sighed, “Yeah, that’s why I thought I should just draw us. I like the intimacy of the way we fit together—“

“So we are making sex tapes,”

“No. We are going to just be cuddling, I'm not going up in front of my class to present an explicit piece of us fucking, thank you.”

“But we are going to be naked?”

You sighed even more dramatically this time, “Yes, Dick, we are going to be naked. I have to ‘show off the beauty of the human form’…”

He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively, you shook your head, “and I'll admit, I wanted it to be a little sensual, okay, but it's not like that,"

You went back to fiddling with the camera, ignoring his childish snickering. You positioned it perfectly, able to capture Dick's full body but not too much background with it. Hopefully cramming yourself in there too wont crop anything weird.

Humming to yourself, you grabbed the tiny remote for the tripod and tested it to make sure it was working. Doing so, you accidentally got a shot of Dick taking off his shirt. The way his stomach and chest were flexed as he lifted the shirt over his head was beautiful. Just what you wanted, art. You didn’t delete this test shot like you would’ve done on any other day. Don’t tell Dick.

“Little eager there, Babe?” you flirted.

He had already moved on to stripping off his sweatpants. As he threw the garment across the room you noticed he uh, had a little problem growing. Ah..

“The faster we get these pictures the faster I can convince you to “take a nap” before patrol tonight,” he slipped his boxers off as he talked to you.

“Uh. Yeah. Um,” you started unbuttoning your shirt, “Let’s get this done, yeah…”

Great, now you’re flustered. You’d think you’d learn your lesson by now, to not use your own boyfriend as a model. But he was so pretty, it was always so tempting. If you had your way, all you’d ever draw were portraits of Dick. If you did that, though, you’d quickly get known as “that kid who only draws local celebrity Dick Grayson” around your university, which would most likely get shortened to just “Dick Kid”, and you did not need that kind of bullying in your life right now. You’re a professional studio artist now, goddamnit.

You heard the springs of the bed as Dick laid back down, “So what were you thinking?”

“…” man what were you thinking again? Oh, “I wanted to start with a shot of us spooning. You know, how the legs fit together, how a face fits into the crook of a neck,”

He smiled, “Do I get to be the big spoon?”

“I guess,” you teased.

You took off your own pants and underwear and gave your hair a good finger comb through before laying down on the bed with Dick. He smirked as you cozied up to him. He placed his hand on your hip as he repositioned himself.

“So you want my leg like—”

“Uh huh,” you felt the heat of his bare body melting into yours. And his errection nestling into your ass. Geez…

“And my face—“

He nuzzled into the side of your neck, brushing against the sensitive artery there. Hoo boy, perhaps this is a bad idea. Dick hummed against your throat as he began peppering the area with light kisses.

Mmm, perhaps it’s a really good idea.

“Dick, pose,”

He stopped his onslaught on your neck for a moment, keeping still as you pressed the button on the remote to take a few shots.

“Thank you,” you shuffled over to check the photos, much to Dick’s disappointment at you leaving his embrace, “these are good, next pose,”

“What now,”

You adjusted the angle on the camera, “okay now sit up, on your knees,”

He did as you told him and you crawled back over.

“Uh, sorry, I promise I’m trying to keep professional thoughts right now,” he gestured to his now very prominent boner.

“That’s fine, Baby,” you snickered as you started straddling him, “they’re not gonna be able to see it. This one’s about how legs perfectly bracket a waist,”

“Hands?”

“On my chest, with your fingers in between the ribs,”

Dick was a little confused on what you meant there for a moment but he found it. You were right, his fingers did perfectly slot in between the bones of your ribcage.

Took everything in him to not start running his hands up and down your sides, feeling more of you beneath his fingertips. The gentle way your skin was always soft, no matter where he touched you drove him wild.

And it’s like you knew, the way you grinned and shook your head.

“Here,” you dipped your face towards him and he greedily took the kiss you offered.

It was just a chaste thing, when he tried to deepen it you pulled away. Dick had to fight back the whine in his throat.

“Forehead to mine pleas—“ he gingerly complied, “there we go,”

Dick’s eyelids were pressed tightly shut, but he heard the click of the shutter go off a few times. You then disentangled yourself from him to go check the photos. He missed you immediately, even though you were just right over there.

Damn. This was horrible. Torture. His punishment from the gods like Tantalus’s fruit. He’d rather clean the Batmobile with a toothbrush than have you naked in his lap and not be able to do anything about it.

Okay so maybe he was being a little overdramatic. Can you blame him, though? He can’t just hold his everything in his hands and not make love to them. It feels irreverent.

“Okay, last one”

Thank fucking god. He could feel his cock throbbing and it was starting to get painful.

“Come get close to the camera, this one doesn’t need to be fullbody,”

He crawled closer as you adjusted it once again, “what’s up with this one?”

“How hands were made to cup our curves. I’ll need you to hold my chin in your hands,”

Done. You don’t have to ask him twice. But damn, as you positioned yourself to how you wanted, was it hard to not just start kissing you.

He gazed lovingly at you as he gently played his part, holding you for the camera (and a bunch of students, apparently) to see. He hoped he was doing you justice in this, in all of these. Although, a part of him didn’t want them to be good, didn’t want other people to see how beautiful you could be for him. Your home was his own private little gallery with you as the star and maybe he didn’t want to share.

Gatekeeping art. Tsk…

The shutter clicked and flashed but you didn’t really care anymore. That was the last picture, after all, and Dick was looking at you like he was about to devour you.

And you were right, as he realized he had a greenlight and dove right in.

Dick wasted no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth this time, lapping at your molars. Two can play at that game, so you licked into his mouth as well, only for him to fight dirty running his tongue along the roof of your mouth in flicks. A shiver ran down your spine as Dick pulled your face, still cupped in his hands, further into his. He moaned with the action, and damn, he really was trying to devour you.

He continued his attack on your mouth, sliding his tongue along yours in the most delicious way. You felt the vibrations of another groan as you let your hands start to wander down his body. His trapeze artist tits pecs.. his grabbable hips… his very hard cock weeping precum onto your hand as you fisted it. He pulled out of your mouth with a jolt, panting for air.

“Please—“ he was cut off by a surprisingly high-pitched noise breaking out his throat as you went down, wasting no time in taking him into your mouth.

You took him as far as you could, the head hitting the back of your throat. You pressed your tongue flat into the underside of his cock, slowly dragging it along his tender shaft before pulling off of him again. He made a strangled noise as you looked up at him.

“What?” why’d you stop before you even started?

“Well look,” you placed your tongue back into the divet where his tip met his shaft, “it’s like my tongue was made to be there. Fits together perfectly,”

God, you were going to be the death of him.

[adieutristana]

Hi! Can you make arcane characters x reader who is afraid of touch?

of course! thank you for the request <3

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn

summary; arcane women with a girlfriend who is afraid of touch.

tags/warnings; hurt/comfort, (vague) mentions of past trauma, fluff, mentions of poor mental health

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is pretty understanding when it comes to fear of being touched. she is as well, for the most part. when it comes to a relationship, i think jinx would be incredibly touchy, but if you tell her that you're afraid and/or uncomfortable she'll give you the space that you need. yes, jinx enjoys physical touch, but she doesn't want to overstep any boundaries.

✧.* jinx will probably resort to words to show her love instead, though she's not the best with them. saying sweet things like "i missed ya, trinket! i've got something to show ya, yeah?" or "oh gods, you just look so pretty, it's impossible!"

✧.* jinx is the textbook definition of clingy. look up the word in a dictionary, and her face will be underneath. so she won't physically hang off your arm if you're afraid of touch, but she'll still follow closely behind you like some kind of lost puppy. it's endearing, honestly. jinx just needs to be close to you somehow at all times.

✧.* the closeness reassures her. she's used to everyone she lets in, everyone she cares about dying. so to share that proximity with you and have the reassurance that you're here, alive, with her, it means a lot more than jinx thinks you'll ever understand.

✧.* like i said, jinx is the same way to an extent. touch-starved, but also won't let anyone close enough to touch her. so when she met you, let you in and began to trust you, part of jinx did expect that touch. you're in a relationship, after all. but once you explain to her, she understands wholeheartedly!

✧.* also constantly showing her love through gifts and grandiose gestures. makeshift firework shows that are a fire waiting to happen? yep! music boxes that play your favorite songs (although slightly out of tune)? also yes! tagging walls in the undercity with your initials together in hearts! you bet! jinx will go above and beyond, she doesn't want to scare you off by doing something she knows you're afraid of

✧.* on the off chance you do let her touch you she'll be making sure you're alright, but also very very happy for those little moments.

✧.* pressing soft kisses to your cheeks while whispering, "you okay, sweetness?"

✧.* jinx doesn't really question you on these things, she just lets it be. if you say you're afraid of touch, then so be it. not a problem for her.

✧.* "come with me!" she'd say, using her hand to wave you over. "what's this about, jinx?" you'd ask, quirking an eyebrow. jinx would be giggling all the way, shaking her head and nearly skipping towards her destination. "don't worry about it, toots! you'll love it, i promise!"

✧.* knowing jinx, she's probably dragging you to the last drop after hours so she can show you how she decorated it just for you (don't question how she managed to pull that off), or she's taking you to her hideout to show you some of the gifts she made you. she's just so excitable around you, she can't help it

vi;

✧.* vi is a little confused at first i think, but that's just because of her need for communication and specifics. like yes, you're afraid of touch, but what kind of touch?

✧.* she has a loooot of questions. she's not trying to pry at all, genuinely just trying to understand you and where you're coming from better. is it alright if she hugs you every now and then? can she hold your hand? what don't you want her to do? do you need her to ask to touch you, or not touch you at all?

✧.* literally just doing everything in her power to not scare you off. vi has a good thing going with you, something real. the last thing that she wants is to fuck it up because she couldn't keep her hands off of you

✧.* vi is sooo so good with her words, though. a master at sweet talking you to show her adoration.

✧.* "you look so beautiful right now, y'know that? i mean- you always do, but gods, right now..." or something along the lines of, "look at you, all focused and stuff. you always amaze me, cupcake."

✧.* one of her defaults is that it's a trauma response, mostly because she knows that's most of where her sister's fear of touch comes from. she'll try to approach the subject delicately, letting you know that if you need to talk about anything she's here and she only wants to help. it can come off as slightly patronizing without her meaning to, so it really all depends on how you take it.

✧.* if it is a response, then fine, vi wants to help and support you the best she can. if not, then she backs off still, settling for just doing you favors and vocalizing her love for you

✧.* she will not let you do a damn thing if you're in a domestic situation. vi is so loving and attentive. she will handle the cooking, cleaning, laundry, all that... you just rest!!

✧.* honest to gods, vi is just such a sweetheart. literally whatever makes you happiest and most comfortable is done without question by her.

✧.* on the off-chance that your girlfriend does scare you or accidentally crosses a line, she'll be profusely apologizing. asking if there's anything she can do to make it up to you, this is the absolute last thing she wants.. if you need space, you've got it. need words of reassurance? consider it done. literally anything.

✧.* generally, i'd think vi is touchy but not enough that this would be a problem. she's versatile, she can show her love in a lot of ways!

✧.* "mm.. i'll do your laundry for you tonight. give you some time off." "vi, that's not necessary-" "shh. it's done. see? i'm already on my way, getting your laundry..."

mel;

✧.* honestly a bit confused at first. mel has grown up around war, tragedy, and despair, but she hasn't met many people who are just downright afraid of being touched- even in the midst of chaos.

✧.* she probably immediately goes to thinking it's because of something that's happened, though, only because of the war and tragedy that she's seen. she hasn't seen fear of touch in particular, but mel has seen a lot of things affect a lot of people in different ways. if it is, then she wants to support you, of course. if not, she still will do her best to show her appreciation for you in other ways.

✧.* mel is easily one of the most devoted and gentle lovers ever, and she has so many tricks up her sleeve when it comes to affection. we've already established that she'd be spoiling you constantly, but she'd also be using her words so well. i also think mel might be the type to write you poetry, honestly. is she the best writer? probably not. but damn, she pours her heart into it.

✧.* "hey, darling. i wrote something else for you, see?" she'd say while holding up another slip of paper, just to add to the collection of your endless others. "written just for my dearest girl."

✧.* mel is just so attentive. she'll probably be a bit protective, especially in public. even if it's just a stranger innocently tapping you on the shoulder to ask for directions to the station, she doesn't want you to get scared.

✧.* "aht- i'll handle that. directions, yeah? you'll go straight here, then take a left, and another left right past the council building." all before someone can touch you.

✧.* if you do allow any kind of touch later on, mel will tread lightly. it's not that she thinks you can't handle yourself or you're fragile, but she just wouldn't be able to live with herself if she scared you off somehow or hurt you.

✧.* light caresses to your cheeks, gentle hugs, guiding you by the small of your back, her head on your shoulder or lap. always so careful, but so sweet and loving

✧.* of course mel will have a lot of questions initially, but it's only because of her need for connection and understanding. she doesn't mean to push or prod, she just wants to understand her lover better and know exactly what is and isn't okay. what will make you most comfortable being with her, that's all that she wants

✧.* hands-down the best at comforting you if you do happen to get scared by touch, though it's usually not at her own hands.

✧.* "hey. hey, tell me what happened. i'm right here, you're alright." she'd say, her voice low and soothing. "nothing's gonna hurt you, nothing's gonna touch you. at least not while i'm here. just let me make things better."

sevika;

✧.* i don't think you'd really need to have a conversation with sevika about it. she's intuitive. the first time you flinched from her touch, trying to wrap an arm around your waist, she knew something was up and she backed off. she wouldn't ask, wouldn't push for more information than you're comfortable giving her. something in her tells her that it's a sensitive topic, and asking might make things worse.

✧.* if you want to talk to her about it, the floor is open. you know that she'll listen, she always does. but until then, she won't pry.

✧.* if you do decide to have that conversation with sevika, she'll take in and cling onto every last word. we've established time and time again how loyal and devoted she is, how she'll do anything just to make sure you're content. she'd listen attentively, taking note of every little thing that you say scares you, of every shift in tone of your voice.

✧.* "i... thank you for telling me this." she'd whisper, her eyes locked with yours. "you know you don't have to hide a thing from me, yeah? but i won't ask for more than you wanna tell me, either. just don't hold out on me, dove."

✧.* besides, sevika has a lot of other ways she can show her love to you. that connection can be achieved through other means! late night talks, bringing you to play games of blackjack and poker with her, etc.

✧.* that's actually one of her favorite ways to have fun with you: gambling! as odd as it may sound, it's one of her favorite pastimes, and getting you involved in her world is a big deal for sevika. someone who famously doesn't let anyone in. so for her to play games alongside you when she's typically merciless, giving you tips for your own hand, it's a big deal.

✧.* if you do allow sevika to touch you, it'll be fleeting and soft. almost as if she's afraid. it's only because she wants to ensure your comfort and sanctuary, really.

✧.* light kisses to your jawline as she whispers things like, "look at you, so beautiful," or "my sweet girl, you look tired. let's turn in, hm? i can hold you. or not. your call, dove..."

✧.* like she doesn't need to be told twice that you're afraid. sevika is very good with respect, very good with communication and laying off. she loves you, she doesn't want to make you afraid or uncomfortable at all if she can help it.

✧.* super protective in public, though. if anyone tries to touch you at all, even if just to push past you in a crowded place, she's immediately pushing them away from you and telling them off.

✧.* "hey. you lay off her, ya hear? thought we learned as kids to keep our hands to ourselves."

caitlyn;

✧.* i think caitlyn would also catch on pretty quickly. she'd ask just to be sure, but she's a smart woman. she can take hints, put pieces together, figure things out. the first time you inched away from her touch was coincidence, the second time was anything but.

✧.* naturally, cait brought it up with you when she got a moment that was just you and her. she tries to approach the subject with caution and care, as she doesn't want to scare you off or seem like she's aiming to force information out of you. but she loves you, and she worries.

✧.* "you can tell me things, love. i promise, i won't get angry. whatever it is, you can tell me."

✧.* she's understanding once you do tell her! she's been raised knowing devastation and war, though her upbringing is privileged. she still knows about trauma, about fear, about phobias, all that kind of thing. even if it's just a thing of general anxiety and you not wanting to let people in that way. she won't take it personally, she knows that this is just something innate within some people

✧.* caitlyn will likely resort to her words and acts of service instead. she's constantly doing things for you, trying to make your life easier in any way that she can. if there's some housework you need done, consider it taken care of. if you're feeling hungry, she's cooking your favorite without a second thought.

✧.* she might accidentally touch you without thinking- like a brush against your back or a grasp of your hand, but she immediately pulls back and apologizes the second she realizes what she's doing. she gets the hang of it rather quickly, but she's used to showing physical affection to her family and friends.

✧.* she still loves sharing a bed with you at night, but cait makes it abundantly clear that she doesn't expect you to cuddle up to her, and she won't hold you unless you ask her to. she's perfectly happy having you next to her, just your presence soothes her to sleep.

✧.* "shh... just sleep, dear. i'll be right here. you always look so peaceful when you're at rest, it's beautiful."

✧.* cait is honestly just so sweet and understanding, she'll do anything and everything in her power to make sure that you're at ease!

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

"He probably hates me" x "I love her so much "

{teen nanami x teen reader fluff series!}

Last part - The confession that wasn't supposed to happen!

Previous part - the mission mishap

💌💌

You weren’t nosy.

Okay, maybe you were a little nosy. But in your defense, it wasn’t your fault that you overheard the conversation. You were just there. Existing. Standing in the hallway, minding your own business, when you heard Nanami’s voice.

And because your brain had decided that everything about him was worth paying attention to, you… paused. Just for a second.

"I don’t see the point in this."

You recognized the tone immediately Nanami’s classic, tired, I-hate-everything-about-this voice.

"You never see the point in anything fun," Haibara shot back. "I’m just saying, you could, y’know, talk to her."

Your stomach twisted. You had a very bad feeling about this.

"That would be unnecessary," Nanami said.

You frowned. What would be unnecessary?

"Unnecessary?" Haibara snorted. "You like her, dude. It’s so obvious it’s painful."

Your breath caught.

Wait. Wait.

There was a long, stretched silence. For a moment, you thought hoped Nanami might correct him. Might say something you could brush off, laugh about later, pretend it meant nothing.

But instead-

"I know," Nanami murmured.

And just like that, your heart flipped upside down.

Haibara made a choking sound. "Holy—you’re actually admitting it?!"

Nanami sighed. "It doesn’t change anything."

You couldn’t breathe.

"You’re so hopeless, man." Haibara groaned. "Why don’t you just tell her?"

There was another pause, and when Nanami spoke again, his voice was lower. Quieter.

"Because she thinks I hate her."

Your chest tightened.

Haibara scoffed. "Well, yeah. You’re kinda bad at what’s the word? human emotions."

"I’m aware," Nanami muttered.

"Then fix it," Haibara said, exasperated. "Before she actually moves on and you have to spend the rest of your life being an emotionally constipated sorcerer who let the love of his life slip away.(Not me roasting him)

Nanami exhaled sharply. "That’s dramatic."

"Not as dramatic as you."

You could barely focus anymore. Your brain was stuck on one thing one ridiculous, unbelievable thing.

Nanami liked you.

Not tolerated. Not put up with. Not found mildly acceptable.

He liked you.

The realization hit like a wrecking ball, knocking the air straight out of your lungs.

Which was exactly why your foot accidentally nudged the doorframe.

The voices inside went silent.

Crap.

"…Did you hear that?" Haibara asked.

Double crap.

You turned to flee, but before you could make your great escape, the door slid open and there stood Nanami, staring at you with a look that was somewhere between horrified and resigned.

Busted.

You opened your mouth, scrambling for an excuse, a joke, anything but Nanami just sighed, running a hand down his face.

"Of course," he muttered. "Of course you were standing there."

Haibara, meanwhile, was grinning like an idiot. "Well. This is awkward."

You swallowed hard, meeting Nanami’s gaze. "So… you don’t hate me?"

He sighed again. "No. I don’t."

"You-" You exhaled, something bubbling in your chest. "You like me?"

Nanami hesitated. Then, with all the reluctance in the world, he nodded. "Yes."

Silence.

Then—

"Finally!" Haibara threw his hands in the air. "I thought I was gonna have to force a confession out of you two!"

You barely heard him. Your heart was still racing, your hands curled into fists to stop them from shaking. "You absolute idiot," you breathed.

Nanami blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You let me think you hated me?" you demanded. "This whole time?"

Nanami looked away. "I didn’t know how to-"

"You-" You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. Then, without thinking, you grabbed his tie and yanked him forward.

And kissed him.

It was quick. Messy. Desperately overdue.

Nanami froze for half a secondbthen melted into it, his hands hovering before finally settling on your waist. His lips were warm, careful, uncertain as if he couldn’t believe this was happening.

When you finally pulled back, you stared at him, heart pounding. "Next time," you huffed, "just tell me."

Nanami exhaled, dazed. "Right."

Haibara whistled. "Holy crap. That was hot."

You and Nanami both turned to glare at him.

Haibara just grinned. "You’re welcome, by the way."

Nanami sighed. "Go away."

But despite the exasperation, despite everything there was a tiny, tiny smile ,playing at the corners of his lips.

And for the first time in forever, you realized Nanami Kento had never really been good at emotions.

But when it came to you, he was willing to try.

I know it was short but I wanted to make it simple, short and cute 😭

I'll make a longer series of Suguru geto SO COMMENT DOWN TO GET TAGGED!

@cheriiepies

[The End]

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 13

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension

The morning sun spilled through the sheer curtains, my head was still heavy from last night, and my body feeling sheer exhaustion of what had happened. I had barely slept, replaying the scene at the restaurant over and over in my mind. The embarrassment, the sting of Matt’s words, the way I had to walk away while holding back tears.

A soft knock at my door made me wake that bit more. "Hey, you awake?" I hear Nick’s voice from through the door. 

I remembered I locked it once Matt left last night so I pulled myself from my bed and unlocked the door letting Nick to come in. I turned and walked back to my bed, sitting up against the headboard, pulling the covers around me. Nick closed the door behind him before standing at the end of the bed. "Alright, spill. What the hell happened last night? You left, and then Matt stormed in looking like he just saw a ghost."

I exhaled, rubbing my temples before looking at him. "Your mom asked Nate if he was seeing anyone, and he said no, which was fine, right? But Matt decided to make it seem like that was some kind of rejection for me, like I was meant to be upset about it. Then, out of nowhere, he brings up to your mom and dad that Nate and I went on a ‘date’, which you know yourself wasn’t even a date, so then Nate tried to clarify that we were just friends, but Matt just kept pushing it. Then he said that I was a quick fuck and then friend zoned. Right in front of your parents." I swallowed, feeling the embarrassment all over again. 

Nick’s eyes widened slightly, but his expression darkened. "What the fuck?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Yeah and I’m so embarrassed if your parents heard that last part because first of all, I had just met them, and second of all, it’s just not even true. It made me look bad, it made Nate uncomfortable, and Matt acted like he had some right to embarrass me like that."

Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No I get why you’re upset like he was way out of line. But listen, when Chris and I came back in, our parents said you were lovely and that they hoped you felt better soon. I’m telling you they didn’t hear that part."

I let out a slow breath of relief. "Really?"

"Really" Nick nodded. "They just thought you weren’t feeling well and needed to leave early."

I sank back into my pillows, finally feeling like I could breathe a little easier. "Good. Because I swear, I was ready to dig a hole and disappear forever."

Nick laughed. "Nah, no disappearing allowed. But are you gonna talk to Matt about it?"

I frowned, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "We did last night kinda, but I’m still so angry. And the worst part is, I don’t even know why he acted like that. It was like he wanted to embarrass me."

Nick shrugged. "Matt’s an idiot. He says dumb shit, but he also knows when he’s messed up. I guarantee you, he feels like shit about it right now."

"Good" I muttered, still unwilling to entertain the idea of forgiving him just yet.

Nick sighed again but didn’t push it further. "Alright, well, the four of us are going out with my parents for the day. You coming?"

I shook my head. "I think I’m just gonna stay back here today, I just want things to die down."

"Thats cool." He stood up, stretching. "Try not to overthink it too much, alright?"

I gave a half smile. "Easier said than done."

As Nick left the room, I rolled onto my side, staring out the window at the pool below. I knew I wouldn’t be able to just brush this off, but at least, for now, I could breathe a little easier knowing that Nick’s parents didn’t hear Matt’s words. Still, the anger remained, simmering just beneath the surface. Eventually, I decided I needed some air, some sun, some quiet, and a break from all the tension.

I slipped out of bed and grabbed my swimsuit, opting for a tiny bikini that I knew would be perfect for lounging by the pool. The straps sat snug against my skin, the warm morning air already filtering through the open balcony doors as I pulled my hair up out of my face. After tossing on a loose cover up, I slid into my sliders and grabbed a towel before heading downstairs.

As I reached the foyer, the others were gathered, chatting and getting ready to head out for the day. The energy in the room was light, filled with laughter and the occasional clatter of sunglasses being thrown into bags. As soon as they spotted me, they greeted me, well everyone except Matt, who didn’t even glance in my direction.

Chris was the first to speak. “You coming with us?” His tone was casual, but his eyes scanned my face like he was checking in.

I shook my head, adjusting my towel over my arm. “Nah, I think I’m going to take it easy today. Just chill by the pool and relax.”

Nate nodded approvingly. “Honestly? Probably the smarter move.”

Chris shot me a small smile. “Enjoy the sun. We’ll be back later.”

I returned the smile, forcing the tension from last night out of my mind. “You guys have fun.”

With that, they all filed out the front door, their voices fading as they disappeared down the steps. The villa was suddenly silent, the only sound being the faint rustling of palm trees outside.

I exhaled slowly before grabbing an ice tea from the fridge and making my way out to the pool, letting the warm sun wrap around me as I laid my towel down on one of the lounge chairs. Finally, peace and quiet.

I stretched out on the lounge chair, letting the sun soak into my skin as I sipped on the cold drink. I had left the villa door open, wanting to hear when everyone got back, but after a while, another sound caught my attention. 

A knock.

Frowning, I sat up, adjusting my bikini top before grabbing my cover up and slipping it over my hips. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and the guys wouldn’t have knocked, they had keys.

As I rushed barefoot across the cold tile floor, I hesitated for a second before pulling the door open. 

A mailman stood there, holding a large box. He barely glanced up before handing it over. “Delivery for Fresh Love.”

I furrowed my brows but took the package, feeling the weight of it in my arms. “Oh, thanks.”

With a nod, he turned and walked back down the driveway. I shut the door with my foot and carried the box to the kitchen counter, setting it down with a small thud.  I smirked, realizing this must be the personalized samples Chris had mentioned, the ones he ordered for all of us.  I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture of the box before opening up my messages with Chris.

Me: Personalised samples just got delivered.

A few seconds later, the typing bubbles appeared.

Chris: Sick! You check ‘em out yet?

I glanced at the box, debating if I should wait for him or just open it now.

Me: Not yet. Was gonna let you do the honours.

Chris: Okay cool. We can do a shoot with them at sunset later.

I bring the box up to Chris’ room and set it on the bed so he can see everything when we get back in. If we’re doing a shoot I want to look extra radiant and glowy, and that won’t happen from standing inside the villa. I grabbed one of the body oils in my room before making my way back out to the pool. I poured a little into my palm, rubbing it over my legs as I stretched back out on the lounge chair.

Matt’s POV

We were halfway through the guided tour when Chris suddenly checked his phone and said, “Oh, the personalized samples came in. Y/n just texted me.”

Hearing her name wasn’t helpful. Not when I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind since last night, and god how she looked in that bikini earlier didn't help. I kept my eyes straight ahead, pretending I didn’t care, but my mom didn’t let it slide. “Oh, Y/n is such a lovely girl” she said with a warm smile, then turned to me. “Is she feeling better now, sweetheart?”

Before I could even begin to answer, Nick cut in smoothly. “Yeah, she’s fine. Just needed a bit of sleep.” His tone was light, brushing off the question like it wasn’t worth pressing. He knew me well enough to know that I didn’t want to talk about it, especially not here, not in front of everyone.

I kept my mouth shut and just nodded in agreement, though the truth was, I felt far from fine. Guilt sat heavy in my chest, chipping away at me. Last night, I had let my emotions get the best of me. I let jealousy, because let’s be honest, that’s exactly what it was, take control, and I lashed out in the worst way possible. I had said something cruel, something I couldn’t take back. And knowing Y/n, she wasn’t the type to just let it roll off her shoulders. She put up walls, and I had given her every reason to keep me on the other side of them.

The more I thought about it, the worse it got. I had no right to be mad at her, no right to act like what she did or didn’t do with Nate, or anyone else for that matter, was any of my business. But that hadn’t stopped me from taking a low blow, from making her feel small in front of people who barely even knew her. If she had done that to me, I’d be furious. So what did that say about me?

I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair as I barely registered the tour guide’s voice. My mind was somewhere else entirely.

I had to make this right.

I knew I had a way to make it up to her, it was something I should've done ages ago. And now, I could only hope it wasn’t too late for her to forgive me.

Y/n’s POV

I was sitting outside on the patio, a plate of food in my lap as I watched the sun dip below the horizon. The sky was painted in soft shades of pink and orange, the kind of sunset that made everything feel a little quieter, a little more peaceful. It was one of those moments I wished I could freeze in time, just me, the sunset, and the distant sound of waves hitting onto the shore.

But then, the front door swung open, breaking the stillness.

The familiar sounds of shuffling feet and tired voices filled the villa as the guys returned. I set my plate aside and stood up, making my way inside to greet them.

“Hey” I said, leaning against the kitchen counter as they walked in.

They all looked exhausted, Chris, Nate, Matt, and Nick, their faces slightly sunburnt, their hair tousled from the slight breeze and even though they didn’t say much at first, their body language said it all.

Chris let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took his cap off. “Long day,” he muttered. “We were out in the sun for way too long, and I think it’s catching up to everyone.”

Nate groaned in agreement, tossing his sunglasses onto the counter. “I need, like, ten hours of sleep.”

Matt didn’t say much, just nodded, his jaw tight. He looked at me for half a second before glancing away, like he was trying to avoid something, most likely me. I ignored the sting in my chest and forced a small smile.

“Yeah, we’re all wiped” Nick added, stretching his arms above his head. “Think we’ll just stay in tonight, order some takeout, crash early.”

“That’s fine with me” I said, realizing I was more drained than I thought. Between being in the sun all day and everything that happened last night, I could use a quiet night too. “I left that box in your room” I say turning to Chris.

“Cool I’ll have a look now, we can take pictures tomorrow evening instead, when everyones a bit more awake”

And with that, Chris, Nate, and Matt didn’t waste any time disappearing into their rooms, clearly eager to knock out for a bit.

Nick lingered behind, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m gonna shower first, but after that, I’ll come to your room? We can just chill for a bit, a movie maybe?.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

I walk up to my room, kicking the door shut behind me as I switch on the TV. The smart TV mounted on the wall was a lifesaver, especially on nights like this when there wasn’t much going on. I sink onto the bed, remote in hand, sifting through Netflix, too see if theres anything both Nick and I would like. The knock on the door wasn’t enough to pull my attention from the screen since I assume it’s Nick, I don’t even think twice before calling out, “Come in.”

But it’s not Nick.

It’s Matt.

He stands there in the doorway, looking uncertain, a silver metallic gift bag dangling from his fingers. Looking like the same one I spotted in his room next to my ‘Thank You’ card. For a moment, neither of us speak. We just stare at each other, the weight of unspoken words thick in the space between us.

My tone is blunt when I finally ask, “Are you alright?”

Matt doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts the bag slightly, as if offering it to me. His expression is unreadable, something between nervousness and determination.

“What is it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Just look in it” he says quietly.

I hesitate for a second before reaching out, taking the metallic bag from his grasp. Peeling back the layers of tissue paper inside, my breath catches in my throat.

It’s my locket.

The delicate chain pools in my palm, the pendant glinting from the sunset shining in my balcony window. My fingers tighten around it as I snap my gaze back up to Matt, my heart pounding.

“Where did you get this?” I demand, my voice barely above a whisper.

a/n : most of this is a bit of a filler soz

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[oneforthemunny]

clandestine meetings (remastered) |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part three

prompt: sneaking around with eddie catches up to the two of you. part three of the series

age gap, but everything is consensual. reader is 25-26. eddie is 42. if this isn't for you, don't read.

contains: minors dni. age gap, swearing, p in v sex, oral fem recieving, language, slight angst.

You liked being with Eddie.

You liked Eddie, a lot. 

You liked how he liked you. You liked how you felt when you were with him. You liked how he made you feel. 

There were a lot of things that you liked about being with Eddie.

Best of all, you liked that he was all yours. Your own little secret. 

A secret that was all your own, just the two of you- well, and Lydia. You had to tell someone. 

A week earlier, you’d given her the giggly confession while you were both making drinks. She had nearly spilled the cappuccino, giving you a wide eye, gawking gasp, the steaming beverage just barely missing her hand.

“The dad?” Lydia blinked, mouth gaping in shock. You could only nod, lip tucking between your teeth, trying to keep your giddy composure. “The one that came in here a while ago?” 

“Yeah, that one.” You nodded, shoving the plastic cup on the drink, setting it on the pick up counter.

 "And… how old is he exactly?" Her brow quipped in question.

You'd grinned. "It’s not that bad. He's only, like, forty...two."

Lydia gave you a laugh that sounded more like a screech of surprise, eyes cutting towards the counter to compose herself. "So, you totally don’t have to answer this- this is me being your friend, not your manager right now, but I gotta know- Is he good?" She asked in a low tone, head ducking down towards yours.

You shook your head, heat prickling in the pit of your tummy when you thought about it- thought about how Eddie had you last night, clawing at his shoulders, yanking at his curls when he went down on you, how it had left you screaming. "Really good."

And he was.

Eddie didn’t rush like the other guys did- guys your own age. Always fast and greedy, not caring about you only chasing their own high. With Eddie, it was like his entire purpose was to please you. As if he had somehow found a book on you, what you liked, how you liked it, and studied it cover to cover. Always knowing the perfect pace, angles, positions that made you gush and scream, clamped around him and clawing at his tattooed shoulders or back until you saw stars.

Your head would reel, babbling mindlessly as he’d fuck you into the mattress. “There, right there, Eddie, fuck.” Tears streamed down your face as you gripped his wrist that was rubbing lazy circles around your clit.

“Right there?” Eddie grunted, a smile on his face as he delivered a particularly hard thrust that had you giving a low, throaty moan.

“Yes.” You whined, high and whiny, the way he liked it. You’d learned that about him now. “So fuckin’ good. Please don’t stop.” You begged.

You felt so full, full of him. His cock was pounding your sweet spot, making you see stars. You were close, you had been for hours. Since you’d come to his house after your shift at the cafe, he’d been on you. Hungry from the moment he saw you, pulling you into a feverish kiss, consuming your mouth in his, pushing you against the counter. He’d gone down on you in the kitchen, dropping to his knees, joints popping and a slight groan leaving his lips that had you giggling before you were bent over the kitchen table, clawing the wooden table as his tongue devoured you.

You were hooked.

In every way. Not just with the sex- though it was better than you ever could have imagined. It was refreshing, comforting the way he was just so sweet to you. 

Always opening your door, pressing kiss disguised compliments to your cheek that left you blushing. He’d give you his jacket when you were cold- because you always forgot yours,and wouldn’t huff about it, no snarky backhanded remarks that left you feeling small and stupid. On the colder nights, when you were walking to his car after dinner dates, he’d take your hands in his, rubbing his calloused palms over yours to keep you warm, flashing you a grin.

“You gotta get you some gloves, baby.” Eddie tutted, voice raspy with years of nicotine intake. “Gonna get sick.” Your heart would rush with adrenaline heat, leaning into his side, gooey with warmth.

You’d blushed, shrugging. “I don’t need one. I can just put them in my pockets.” Shoving them into your- his jacket.

Eddie snorted, giving you a pointed look that left you grinning mischievously. “Yeah? In the jacket you always forget?”

You gave him a small shrug, lips twisting in a grin. “‘S not that far of a walk. I’ll be fine without it.” 

Eddie would grin, pull you close to him, lips pressing to your head in a kiss. “Gotta have one or the other in this cold weather. Fuckin’ freezing out here, and you can’t be freezing, too. Can’t be gettin’ sick on me, baby. Don’t wanna miss our date nights because you caught a cold.” Your heart had soared, sure it would burst right out of your chest. He liked spending time with you too. 

If his words weren’t confirmation enough, the next day when he’d picked you up, knitted gloves sitting in your seat, wrapped in a satin bow and with a tag you recognized from an overly priced boutique downtown. “Figured you needed some.” Eddie shrugged when you’d thanked him. “Thought they looked like you, y’know? Brielle likes that store, so I went in there.” 

“I love them.” You grinned, cheeks straining, aching from how much you’d been smiling lately- how could you not? When Eddie made you so happy. “You didn’t- Let me pay you back. It’s too much-” 

Eddie only scoffed, shoving your hand lightly when you reached for your purse. “I wanted to get them for you. You need some anyway. I figured if they were cute, you might wear them.” Eddie winked at you. 

“Besides, I liked spoilin’ you. Let me spoil you a little, you deserve it.” His words had you in a cloud, leaning across the bench of his truck to kiss him, sloppy and sweet, uncaring. 

For all the affection and adoration that came with being with Eddie, there was a slimmer of something exhilarating. Maybe it was the age difference, that he was closer to your parent’s age than your own. Maybe it was the chaos of it all, that your little sister and his daughter brought the two of you together, an unlikely meeting and an even more unlikely relationship blossoming. 

Maybe it was the secrecy. 

The sneaking around. It felt different than it did in high school, sneaking out to meet guys, hook up in basement bathrooms. It was more mature, the affair of it all, more sophisticated. Eddie would take you out, just not in Hawkins, always a town or two over- the two of you worrisome that you’d run into someone you knew, though neither of you ever said it out loud.  

You’d stay the night, Friday nights, when Eddie didn’t work the Saturday shift. You’d wake up tangled in his sheets, padding down to the kitchen in one of his shirts, aways with a metal hair band from the 80s and 90s. 

“1983 tour, hm?” You hummed, looking at the worn and faded shirt before slipping it on, the fabric soft with age. 

“Yeah, Saxon. They were pretty good. Me and my friends snuck in, pushed our way through the barricade. Actually, we got that shirt off some drunk guy. He dropped it and we snatched it, kept it in my back pocket while he was lookin’ for it.” Eddie snickered at the memory, head shaking slowly. 

“Sounds like fun.” You smiled warmly back at him, hands smoothing over the wrinkles of the fabric. 

“Yeah, it was.” Eddie nodded slowly. He sat for a moment, brows knitting when he looked back at you. “Were- 1983, were you even born then?” 

You only giggled, a nervous heat rising through your throat. It was one of the first times the age gap was mentioned between the two of you, the obvious pointed out and pulled into the light. 

Selfishly, you didn’t want it to come to light, not just yet. You were comfortable in the shadows for now. Comfortable in his kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee. Sometimes you’d sit on the back porch with him, curled up in the seat next to him while he smoked, slow. 

Other times you’d sit at the table, take in every detail of the home. The slightly outdated decor, a hidden hint at when he’d moved in, when he’d gotten divorced. Pictures of Brielle covered the house, her throughout the years preserved through school photos and candids in frames, on the fridge. She looked so much like him, but had features of someone else- her mom, the woman you were petrified of, yet so intrigued about. 

This morning was the same. Another night out, to a brewery two towns over. The night was spent playing skii ball in the very hipster-ish place, still, Eddie had won. He told you he would. “This used to be my fuckin’ game back in the day, baby. I’d always win at the arcade.” 

He’d taken you home, the two of you fucking on the bed, drunken and silly and giggly until you collapsed, overwhelmed in exhausted. You’d woke up in his arms, warm against his chest. 

Eddie was gone in the morning, an early riser, he’d told you the first night when you mentioned his absence. Arms stretching out, you groaned lightly, head pulsing a little from the alcohol the night before, mouth too dry for your liking. 

You were floating, warm and smiley, despite the slight hangover. Even that couldn’t damper your mood, the buzz and thrill of domesticity, of love. Maybe it was too early to say that, you weren’t sure. 

The routine was familiar now; get your coffee, open the blinds, and sit in your own peace until Eddie came in from smoking, then you’d cook breakfast together. Simple, domestic, and oh so sweet. 

The front door opened, you turned, smiling, ready to greet Eddie. Your face fell as you met a different pair of puddle eyes.

“What the fuck?” Brielle jumped, eyes widening as she stumbled back out of the door, looking from the outside back at you in horrified shock, like she’d somehow made a mistake, walked through the wrong door and into an alternate reality.

Your breath caught in your throat, too terrified to speak, unable to even if you wanted to. What do you say? What could you say? Was there anything to say anyways?

“Are you-“ Brielle shook her head, curls that matched Eddie’s falling around her, gawking at you with disbelief. “W-What the fuck? What the fuck is going on? What is- This isn’t real. No fuckin’ way. What are you doing here?”

“Brielle, I-I-“

“Did you get your coffee, baby?” Eddie’s soft voice filled the space as he stepped in off the back porch, the sliding door latching softly. “I left you a mug on the-“ He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, face falling, eyes widening when he saw his daughter with a similar look of horror and shock.

Brielle’s mouth fell, eyes rounding and darting from you to Eddie. “You-” Brielle looked at you. 

“A-And you-” Her words stuttered, jumbling through her shock, maybe her repulsion when she looked at Eddie, face snarling in complete disgust. 

“Oh, I’m gonna be sick.” Brielle groaned, cringing as she turned on her heel to walk out the front door.

“Brielle,” Eddie sighed sharply, a hand sliding down his face, heavy footsteps following her out the door. “Brielle, just wait a second.”

Your body was frozen in place, unable to move even if you wanted to, head reeling with embarrassment- with realization. You could hear the voices of the father-daughter duo outside, Eddie’s desperate soothing tone blending with Brielle’s high pitched screech of horror.

“-Brielle, just calm down-“

“-Have you lost your mind?” Brielle shrilled. “She’s Maddy’s sister- her sister, an-and she’s like twenty-”

“-No, she’s not-.” 

“-She’s like my age, dad!” 

“No, she’s not, Brielle. Stop.” Eddie huffed. “This really isn’t your business-“

“What?” Brielle shrieked loudly, making you cringe inside the house. “You-You’ve lost it. You have fucking lost your mind! I-I don’t even- I don’t know if this is a midlife crisis or something, but you’ve lost your mind. This is crazy.”

"Brielle Jo, get back here. I'm talkin' to you. Do not slam that door." Eddie's voice was hard, stern with a gruff edge you hadn't seen since the first time you'd met. His hand pushed her car door open, eyes narrowing at her. 

"I thought you were at your mama's today." He hesitated, gripping the door with a white knuckled fist.

"I forgot my textbook." Brielle glared, tone filled with annoyance. "And I tried to call you, but," Her eyes cut toward the house, where you were still inside, shivering in disgust all over again. 

"I'm leaving." She declared, reaching for the door handle.

Eddie's shoulders slumped in defeat, moving so she could slam the door. Hands ran down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Your legs shook when you stood, hands wringing nervously, watching Eddie with careful eyes when he finally came back in. "Maybe I should go." You suggested, your voice soft and timid, breaking the deafening silence that filled the kitchen.

Eddie nodded, a hand running over his eyes, trying to rub away a headache that was beginning to form. "I think that would be for the best, baby." He gave a small sad smile that still made your heart flutter, just with a feeling that was unfamiliar- fear, maybe. 

"I just need to talk to Brie for a little bit. She-She's dramatic, y'know? Teenager." Eddie offered a small laugh, but it felt forced. It didn’t bring the relief that either of you hoped it would.

Your own reckoning came later that day.

Back to your apartment, you tried to keep yourself busy, keep your mind from spiraling further, anxious thoughts consuming every part of you. Keep your head from screaming the one damning thought that left you filled with fear- that it was over.

The vibrations on the table had you jumping, eyes cutting towards your phone, heart filling with hope that it was Ed. Madeline's name flashing across the screen instead. 

"Hello?"

"Are you ok?" Madeline's voice was calm on the other end.

You furrowed your brows. "Yeah, why?" The pause that followed had your stomach sinking, the way it did before there was a drop on a rollercoaster.

"Oh, you kow, I was just checking, because I'm pretty sure you've lost your fucking mind."

Ice ran through your veins, your spine wincing at her tone. You’d expected it, yet it still hurt. "Maddy, I-"

"-Brielle's dad?" Madeline boomed, screaming into the speaker so loud you flinched, pulling the phone away. "Have you lost your mind? Like seriously, w-what the fuck?  Why-Why are you doing this?"

You stuttered, struggling to find the words when your heart was hammering this way. "Madeleine, I-I just,” You huffed. “It-It's none of your business, ok-"

"-It most certainly is!" Madeline screeched, her anger intensifying with her tone. 

"You're fucking my best friend's dad! My best friend’s dad, like- are you fucking insane?” 

“No, we’re- we’re not just- it’s not just-”

“-I get a call from Brielle, and she's going absolutely insane losing it on me, and telling me that her dad is having a midlife crisis because he’s fucking my sister, and she walked in on you two in the kitchen!"

"It-It's not like that, ok?" You stammered, a poor defense, but all you could muster.

"Not like that?" Madeline repeated with a huff. “There shouldn’t even be a that! Why? Why would you do this? You couldn’t fuck someone your own age?” 

"It's not like that." You barked defensively. "We’re not just- I like him, ok? We’ve been going out, an-and he's really sweet, and he treats me really nice, and-and,” Your heart hammered in your throat, burning with tears that threatened to fall. 

“I-I'm not having this conversation with you. It's actually none of your business, anyways, and-and we're not doing anything wrong!" You snapped, voice shaking with emotions you tried to swallow down.

Madeline paused for a moment, a stand off of silence between the two of you. 

"Then tell Mom and Dad." She challenged, an edge to her tone that felt petulant- a true younger sister, you grit in bitter thought. 

You scoffed. "What are we, seven? You're going to tattle to Mom and Dad on me?"

"No, but tell them! I mean, you're so proud of this, and there’s nothing wrong with it, right? I mean, that’s what you said! You said there’s nothing wrong with it, so tell them!" Madeline sneered from the other line. 

"Tell them how you're fucking Brie's dad. Tell them how old he is, and that you’re in a relationship or whatever with him!"

"I'm not telling them that!" You snapped, throwing a hand up in frustration.

"Why? Because you're not doing anything wrong? Well, then tell them!" Madeline snapped back. "But you won’t, because you know it’s fucked up. And you’re scared they'll be upset. And they probably will because he's the same fuckin' age as Dad-"

"-Eddie is not the same age as Dad." You barked with a huff. "H-He's only forty-two."

"Eddie?" Madeline gasped, bitter and cold. You cringed, listening to her near mocking laugh back at you. "You're fucked up for this, you really are. Did you ever think about how this could affect my friendship?"

Your heart plummeted, guilt sinking and consuming every part of  your body. You hadn't really, outside of the fleeting thought at the beginning. You hoped it wouldn’t come, truthfully, or maybe that they’d be understanding. Maybe it would have been different, it was in your head, at least.  All the times you pictured it, you never imagined it would play out like this.  

You bit your lip, words caught in your throat, unsure what to say. Madeline gave a final scoff before hanging up, not giving you the chance to reply.

Phone in one hand, towel still clutched, unfolded in your other hand, you could do nothing but stare blankly, stunned by the events of the day- cause from your own actions. Your little Garden of Eden that you and Eddie had created with sweet touches and hidden words was gone now, crumbled and left you with an aching reality and uncertainty that had your stomach lurching. 

Eddie still hadn’t called. You got your wish, you supposed, left in the dark, but this time- you were alone.

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part one)

part two (soon)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, very indirect subtle mention of sexual activities (no actual scenes), mention of drug usage (no actual scene)

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him.

word count: 2144

a/n: i haven't written this kind of stuff since like 8th grade (i recently graduated from university sooo yeah) but i kinda felt like it now and idk. there are so many smut involved fics on here (which isn't bad, i just need more softer slow burn stuff). not saying there won't be any smut in future parts hihihihi. also i have no clue how the american school system works (i'm from europe) so pls just accept this lol. and kelce's last name is statter bc apparently it was never mentioned in the show. anyway, this is for all my introverted and overthinking girlies (who may or may not be little freaks) <3

*****

Fuck my life.

That was the only thing on your mind as Mr. Smith announced the partners for the upcoming two-week art project. In pairs, you were supposed to create a reinterpretation of the Greek gods.

The assignment wasn’t the problem. In fact, it actually sounded kind of fun. But your partner? Yeah, that was the real issue.

Fucking Rafe Cameron.

Of all the people in this class, it had to be him. You didn’t even know why he'd chosen this class. Rafe was probably the last guy you’d expect to take an art elective—well, right after Kelce Statter.

He'd probably thought it was an easy class to boost his GPA. Rookie mistake.

Okay, whatever, it was just a small project. You could handle this.

NO, YOU COULDN’T, HOLY SHIT.

The thought of working with Rafe Cameron made your skin crawl. In all your years at Kildare Academy, you'd maybe exchanged two words with him—and that was only because he'd mistaken you for another girl.

"Y/N, right?" Rafe appeared at your desk at the end of class, a bored expression on his face.

Okay, okay, just act normal. Be nice. You nodded. "Yeah."

Rafe stared at you for a moment, like he was waiting for you to say more. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before he tilted his head. "Cool, okay. Let’s just meet up during lunch break and get this over with."

Did he seriously think you could finish a two-week project in one lunch break?

When he saw the look on your face, he raised his brows in amusement, his tone teasing. "What? You too busy?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. "No, lunch sounds good."

"Okay, then let’s meet after the fifth period." Before you could ask where you should meet him, he turned around and disappeared out of the classroom.

You frowned. This was off to a great start.

Just two weeks, you reminded yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to math class.

On the way, you unlocked your phone to text your bestie Cara:

You shoved your phone away and tried to ignore the uneasiness creeping into your stomach.

You didn’t usually have trouble talking to guys but Rafe Cameron was a whole different story. Not because he was "too cool" or some dumb shit like that.

No, Rafe was just... intimidating. Not in that bad-boy, cringe Wattpad kind of way. It was something else, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t arrogant—he was proud. He was loud, but not in the annoying way Kelce Statton was. He wasn’t rude—he just said whatever the hell was on his mind.

He was just ... himself. And yet, somehow he wasn't. It felt like there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

Maybe that was what made him so interesting to you. Sure, he had a nice face and a well-known name, no doubt about that. But more than anything, you wanted to know why he was the way he was.

Was he just a blunt person who didn’t give a fuck, or was there more to him than his looks and his last name?

So yeah, maybe a part of you was curious about him. But he had such an overwhelming presence, you wouldn’t even know where to start.

In the past, he'd had a few friends-with-benefits situations, but none of them had lasted long. And that was definitely a path you didn't want to go down. Under different circumstances, maybe you could but you've never even held hands with a guy, let alone kissed one or—yeah, no, not going there.

Okay, chill. Internally, you cursed Cara for fueling your delusions.

You had more important problems at right now anyway. Like math class with Mrs. Richman. And no one could claim you were a star student in that subject.

----

The lesson dragged on, your thoughts constantly drifting. After class, you were supposed to meet Rafe.

Rafe, who had PE right now.

Shit. You tried not to think about a sweaty, heavy-breathing, and—NOPE, NOT NOW.

"Okay, that’s it for today. Don’t forget about the math test next week. But for now, go enjoy the nice weather," Mrs. Richman announced, dismissing the class.

Your hands felt clammy as you got up to leave. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You headed to the restroom and washed your hands. Why were you so nervous about spending one lunch break with Rafe Cameron? Fuck you, social anxiety.

"Everything okay?" A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You look kinda pale."

You turned to see the pretty face of Molly Crane. Red hair, cute freckles, and a super charming smile. She was one of the few Kooks (if any existed at all) who was genuinely nice.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, all good. I think I just ate something bad for breakfast."

Molly didn't look convinced. "You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Really, thanks, Molly. I’m fine now." With an awkward smile, you excused yourself and headed out—only to realize that, well… great, you and Rafe had never picked a meeting spot.

Brrrt.

Your phone had been buzzing since math class. Of course, it had been Cara.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and texted back.

Should you really wait in front of the gym? That felt weird af. But at the same time, you didn’t want to miss him and end up having an awkward conversation about it in the next art class.

The dining hall would've been the most obvious meeting place, but would Rafe actually look for you there?

You pressed your lips together. Fuck it.

Heart pounding, you headed toward the gym.

Good thing your body totally knew how to distinguish between social interaction and actual danger.

When you arrived, you heard muffled voices of the boys inside, along with Coach Brown’s instructions.

Just breathe, it’s just one lunch break, you told yourself. Then again, this was probably how the next two weeks were going to feel.

You held your breath as the gym doors swung open, and a crowd of sweaty—oops wrong, freshly showered—boys streamed out.

You awkwardly stepped to the side, ignoring the curious glances thrown your way.

No sign of Rafe yet. A sick feeling settled in your stomach. Even worse than being here and having to explain HOW you knew that he would be here, would be explaining why you were standing there if he didn’t actually have PE right now.

But then relief washed over you when you spotted Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton. And right behind them—Rafe Cameron.

You tightened your grip on your bag. Okay, okay, I can do this. They’ll probably say bye to Rafe and leave for lunch now.

They didn’t. Great.

When Rafe saw you, something flickered in his gaze that you didn’t want to analyze. You expected him to just walk past you but instead, he headed straight toward you—with Kelce and Topper right behind him.

Just smile. No, not like that, you probably look like a creep. Oh god, okay.

"Hey," Rafe greeted you with a slightly puzzled smile as the three of them stopped in front of you. "I didn't expect you here."

In other words: Did you stalk me or how did you know I was here?

Kelce and Topper eyed you with amusement. This is so unbelievably embarrassing.

Blushing, you pointed at the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, I saw you bringing a sports bag today, and PE is usually scheduled right before lunch ... so I just assumed you’d be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kelce stifling a laugh. You wanted to disappear from Earth, no from this universe. No way anyone would believe--

"Right," Rafe replied with a lopsided grin. "I would’ve just waited in the dining hall."

So you had been right. And you could've saved yourself this painfully awkward moment. G-r-e-a-t.

"Good thinking though. The faster we get this project over with, the better."

Shit, did Rafe just compliment you? Then again, why did the last sentence sound like he didn't want to work with you?

You smiled awkwardly. "Exactly."

"You're Y/N Y/L/N, right? Your mom owns Y/L/N Yacht Sales." Topper’s voice cut in, and you were grateful for the topic change.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Was that admiration on Topper’s face?

"Ohh, a business Mommy, I like that", Kelce said, and both Topper and Rafe eyed him with shaking heads.

Topper blinked at him annoyed. "Bro, shut the fuck up for once."

Kelce just laughed.

"My dad bought a Grady-White from you guys recently," Rafe remarked, and your gaze flicked back to his blue eyes.

Jesus, he wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring into your soul. If he was always looking at girls like that you'd gladly be his friends-with-benefits-girl.

You prayed to whatever gods were listening that you didn’t blush. "I remember. A 456 Canyon."

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitched up. "Yeah, a pretty model."

Your cheeks warmed, and either he didn’t notice, or he chose not to comment on it.

"Oh shit, that sounds like a boat party," Kelce chimed in with a grin and looked at you. "If I were you, I’d have thrown a dozen parties by now. So many possibilities…"

Rafe scoffed amused. "Good thing she isn’t, or her family would be broke by now."

You allowed yourself a small smirk.

„Hey, I’m just saying.“ Kelce raised his hands innocently.

Topper tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand. „Okay, dude, and I’m saying we’re leaving now before you say more stupid shit.“ Then he looked at you apologetically and turned his gaze to Rafe. „See you later.“

Rafe just gave him a short nod, his expression hard to read, before turning back to you with a tired smile as Kelce and Topper disappeared behind the gym. „So, you hungry?“

Why did this situation suddenly feel so… intimate? It wasn’t. Definitely not. There was absolutely no reason to feel weird about this. And yet—standing here alone with Rafe Cameron was… a lot. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—calm, focused, as if he was actually paying attention.

Or maybe it was the damn wet strands of hair falling into his forehead after his shower.

Get a grip.

You nodded quickly, trying not to overthink it. „The cafeteria has quinoa veggie bowls today. Or fries, if you’re not into influencer food.“

Oh God. Was that your attempt at being funny? Tragic.

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement. „So, you’re assuming I don’t like quinoa bowls?“

Oh. Oh no.

Heat immediately rushed to your face, and you could feel your cheeks burning. Why the hell did you say that?

„No—I mean…“ You let out a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a weird cough. „Not that you wouldn’t like it, but you’re just more like—uh, not that I’m putting you in a box or anything, but you don’t seem like someone who… uh…“

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. „Someone who eats quinoa?“

You sighed. „Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense.“

„No, no, now I’m curious.“ His voice was amused, almost teasing. „How exactly do I seem?“

You swallowed. Shit.

„Uh…“ Your eyes flickered over him for a second—his broad shoulders, the damp strands of hair falling into his forehead, the fresh polo shirt fitting way too well against his body—oh God, wrong direction.

„I just meant…“ Maybe you should just stop talking and dig your own grave. You sighed and smiled awkwardly. „Okay, look, I'm sorry if you’re actually a secret quinoa veggie bowl advocate. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.“

Rafe laughed. Not in a mocking way—no, it was real, warm, which somehow made it worse because it only made you more nervous.

„No, no, I get it,“ he said, shrugging with an amused smile. „I guess I need to work out more if I’m giving off ‘fries guy’ vibes.“

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. „That’s not what—“

„Relax, I know what you meant.“ He cut you off, tilting his head toward the dining hall. „Come on, you can keep judging me in there.“

I am the most embarrassing person alive, you thought, face still burning.

Still, you fell into step beside him, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. Brain, could you please shut the hell up? Thanks.

It didn’t.

Because why did Rafe’s presence feel so overwhelming—in the best way possible? And why did his ridiculously good aftershave still linger in the air between you, like some kind of cruel distraction?

And most importantly—how the hell were you supposed to survive two whole weeks of this?

[queerfandomtrifecta]

I’m convinced we haven’t seen Helly R since season one.

I have another short post about a little part of this but just gonna combine it all into one here, but I do NOT trust s2 Helly R yet. There’s a lot of reasons and I’m currently rewatching for mannerism differences between Helly v Helena, but Helly R in s2 has felt very stiff and off in a few places (when she asked Mark if he was okay in the breakroom, telling Irving “we’ve got you”) which felt SO uncomfortable compared to s1 Helly R to me. That bothers me almost more than her lying about what she saw when they did the OTC thing and withholding the knowledge that her outie is an Eagan. Also, it’s Helly who very very quickly (and conveniently) notices the cameras are missing and says “wait, what happened to the security camera?” when it’s suggested Milchick was probably listening.

I think it’s totally plausible that if they can wake the innies up on the outside they can let the outies into the severed floor. I think Helly R saw too much and we’ve seen Helena Eagan pretending to be Helly the entire time.

I fully believe that they’re telling the truth when they say there are no cameras or mics on the severed floor anymore. Why would they need them with Helena Eagan herself there listening to everything?

Also, Mark is trying to find Ms. Casey/Gemma with “Helly” helping him. Helena Eagan and Lumon clearly don’t want that to happen, so with Helena in there acting as Helly R, she could point Mark in every direction but the right one and seem like it’s all genuinely an attempt to help. If it ever didn’t and Mark called her out on it, the fact that Helly had feelings for Mark at the end of s1 and was having a hard time helping him find his wife because of that is a good enough excuse to not blow Helena Eagan’s cover.

I’m rewatching to compare the two characters and see if there’s anything uniquely Helena that’s coming across in s2 Helly R or anything that would definitively rule this out as an option, but right now I don’t think we’ve seen Helly R yet this season.

Bonus theory/analysis that I cannot articulate well yet but am including anyway for some reason: s2 Helly is in solid blue every time weve seen her so far. Blue top, blue skirt. Every episode of s2 so far. She started in that in s1e1 and moved away from it, but that’s not happening here yet. Wish I could wrap up my train of thought here in a way that is coherent and concise, but TL;DR, blue (and green) is a Lumon color throughout, especially when severed characters are involved. (Petey reintegrated then died wearing that red and blue striped robe, the blue and red beta fish in the divided tank in Mark’s house, Gemma’s red and green candle Cobel takes from Mark’s basement, etc etc) I’m working on a longer piece of meta about color symbolism in Severance as I rewatch but yeah for now, im just not trusting the head to toe blue every single day for s2 Helly R.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every life ࿐‧₊ worst logan - imperfect for you pt.2

chapter summary: You and Laura find yourselves in the void. A few months later, Wade—who claims to be from your universe, and a different Logan appear with a way out.

word count: 13.7k+ (31k+ total)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: alright! this is the second part... to the second part. all the warnings/tags are the same! and take this as your warning-this is split in two parts! it's too long for tumblr to fit in one post!

(also, i know that it's 10 pm est, but i felt like i had to put this out now after watching lady gaga and bruno mars' performance at the grammy's)

warnings/tags: canon to 'deadpool and wolverine', black widow!reader, worst!logan, laura calls reader mom, violence, heavy angst, detached!reader, loverboy!logan, slow burn, fluff, wade wilson interruption, happy ending, not proofread

series masterlist - part 2

You had been to Italy a few times, never of course to see the sights. But Logan insisted, not caring that the mission was over and the two of you were supposed to be going back to the mansion.

“C’mon,” he murmured against your lips, pressing another chaste kiss against them. “I’ll show you around.”

"Do you even know where we’re goin’?" you asked, raising a skeptical brow as Logan laced his fingers through yours, tugging you along the cobblestone streets of Rome.

"’Course I do," he muttered, but the way his eyes flicked between the street signs said otherwise.

You smirked, leaning into his side. "Uh-huh. So, what’s the plan? Wander around aimlessly ‘til we find somethin’ interesting?"

"Pretty much," he admitted, bringing your joined hands up to press a kiss against your knuckles. "Not like we’re in a rush."

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "Charles is gonna kill us when we get back."

Logan scoffed. "What’s he gonna do? Give me a disapproving look? Put me in time-out?" He squeezed your hand. "C’mon, darlin’. When’s the last time we had a real vacation?"

You exhaled, looking around. The warm glow of streetlights reflected off the damp stone, the air thick with the scent of fresh bread and espresso. It was peaceful. Normal.

You nudged him with your shoulder. "You’re lucky I like you."

He smirked. "Damn right I am." Logan leaned in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Plus, it helps I got a girl who can speak Italian."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away. "Yeah? And how exactly does that help you?"

Logan squeezed your hand, guiding you through the winding streets. "Means I don’t gotta fumble my way through orderin’ dinner."

You snorted. "So that’s why you’re keeping me around? For food?"

"Pretty much," he said, smirking. "That and the company."

You hummed, pretending to consider. "Could’ve just hired a translator."

Logan stopped walking, turning to face you with that look—the one that made your stomach flip, the one that told you he was serious even when his words weren’t. "Don’t need a translator. Need you."

Your breath hitched, but you covered it with a scoff, nudging him playfully. But before you could get out a word he spoke again.

“Let’s get married.”

You blinked at Logan, unsure if you’d heard him right. “What?”

Logan didn’t flinch. He just stood there, watching you with that same calm intensity he always had. “Let’s get married.”

A laugh escaped you, unbidden, half incredulous, half breathless. “You drunk already?”

Logan smirked. “Not yet.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “Logan—”

“I’m serious.” He stepped closer, taking your hands in his. “I know you know about the damn ring.”

Your breath hitched.

You did know.

You’d found it once, hidden away in his things. A simple gold band, unassuming, well-worn. You hadn’t asked about it at the time, but part of you had known—Logan didn’t keep things unless they mattered.

Your fingers curled around his. “You’ve had that ring for years.”

“Longer,” he admitted. “First time I met you, I bought it.”

Something in your chest tightened. “Logan.”

“I’ve lost a lot,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, rougher. “Too much. But you keep coming back to me. Life after life. And I keep finding you.”

Your throat felt tight. “This isn’t like the other times.”

Logan shook his head. “No. It ain’t. This time, I’m not gonna waste any more of it.”

You searched his face, looking for hesitation, doubt—anything that might tell you he was caught up in the moment. But there was nothing. Just certainty.

A quiet, stunned laugh escaped you. “You want to get married. Right now?”

“Why the hell not?” He grinned. “We got a whole city to ourselves. We’ve both seen enough shit to know waiting doesn’t always do us any favors.”

You exhaled, tilting your head. “You don’t even have the ring on you.”

Logan pulled his hand from yours, reached into his pocket, and held it up between his fingers. “You sure about that?”

Your heart nearly stopped.

“You carry it around?”

“Every damn day.”

You stared at him, at the way he was just standing there, so unshaken, so sure, like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.

Maybe he had.

And maybe, just maybe, so had you.

“Alright,” you breathed. “Let’s do it.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, shaking your head, laughing under your breath. “Let’s get married.”

---

The church was small—hidden in the quieter part of the city, far from the crowds of tourists. The old priest inside raised a brow when you and Logan walked in, but he didn’t ask many questions.

Logan held your hand the entire time, his thumb tracing idle circles against your skin. When the priest asked if you were ready, Logan squeezed your fingers, just once.

Neither of you had vows prepared—there hadn’t been time for that. But you didn’t need them.

“You already know what you mean to me,” Logan murmured, slipping the ring onto your finger. “Don’t need words to prove it.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, looking down at the band that fit so perfectly. Then you looked back at him, that same familiar, stubborn, impossible man you had known for years.

You curled your fingers around his hand. “Good. Because I don’t have anything poetic either.”

Logan chuckled. “Don’t need poetic.”

You smiled, lifting your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Then let’s just get to the part where they say we’re stuck with each other.”

Logan smirked. “Thought you’d never ask.”

The priest gave a small, amused shake of his head before speaking the final words. And just like that, it was done.

Married.

You turned to Logan, your new husband, and before he could say anything, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss.

He made a noise of surprise, but it didn’t take him long to catch up, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. His lips were warm, familiar, and when he broke away just enough to murmur against your mouth, his voice was thick with something you couldn’t name.

“’Bout damn time.”

You laughed, forehead resting against his. “Yeah,” you whispered. “It is.”

Logan cupped your jaw, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You’re mine now.”

You smirked. “Always was.”

He kissed you again, and this time, neither of you were in any rush to pull away.

---

You woke up, not with a start, just a slow realization that it was a dream—a memory.

The ceiling fan above you spun in lazy circles, the dim morning light filtering through the blinds. The scent of saltwater lingered in the air, mixing with the faintest trace of lemon cleaner from Laura’s half-hearted attempt at tidying up the place. For a second, you could still feel Logan’s hand in yours, the weight of the ring on your finger, the warmth of his breath against your lips.

But it wasn’t real. Not anymore.

You exhaled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before pushing yourself up. The bed was too big, too empty. You swung your legs over the side, the cool floor grounding you in the present.

A quiet knock sounded at the door. “Mom?”

You sighed, rolling your shoulders before standing. “Yeah?”

Laura cracked the door open, already dressed, her sunglasses perched on top of her head. “You okay?”

You huffed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah. Why?”

Laura leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You were making that face again.”

You raised a brow. “What face?”

“The sad, I’m thinking about him again face.”

You snorted. “That’s not a thing.”

Laura shrugged. “Sure.”

Shaking your head, you moved past her and into the kitchen. “You eat?”

She grabbed an apple from the counter, biting into it as she hopped onto a stool. “Yeah. You?”

“Not yet.” You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the bitter scent filling the air.

Laura studied you for a second before speaking. “You had another dream, didn’t you?”

You took a sip of coffee before answering. “Maybe.”

Laura didn’t push, just nodded. “Was it a good one?”

Your fingers curled around the mug. “Yeah.”

She chewed her apple slowly, then said, “You think he ever dreamed about you?”

You swallowed, setting the mug down. “I know he did.”

Laura was quiet for a moment before hopping off the stool. “You wanna do something today? Beach, maybe?”

You glanced out the window at the waves rolling against the shore. The idea of a normal day, of pretending for just a little while longer, didn’t sound too bad. “Yeah. Beach sounds good.”

Laura nodded. “Cool. I’ll grab the towels.”

As she walked away, you let out a slow breath, staring at the coffee in your hands. The dream still clung to you, the weight of it settling deep in your chest.

You shook it off.

For now, there was the beach.

For now, there was Laura.

And for now, that was enough.

---

Logan exhaled, the cigarette between his fingers burning low. The Florida heat clung to him, sweat beading at the back of his neck as he leaned against the hood of his truck.

She was in there.

He knew her routine now—when she worked, when she shopped, when she left the house. He told himself he wasn’t stalking, that he was just waiting. But waiting for what, exactly? For her to acknowledge him? For her to let him in?

Wade had called him an idiot for sticking around. Said he was wasting his time. Maybe he was.

But maybe he wasn’t.

He took a slow drag, watching as a familiar car pulled out of the driveway. She was driving. Laura was in the passenger seat, sunglasses on, arms crossed, probably bitching about something.

Logan smirked.

He let the cigarette drop, crushing it under his boot as he pushed off the truck.

They weren’t running.

And as long as they weren’t running, he wasn’t leaving.

---

You stared at him, unabashedly. Something you only did when you were going to scold him for something.

“What?” Logan asked, turning to face you.

You crawled down the bed before sitting at the edge of it, chin in your hand, glasses slipping down your nose. “Why do you have to go to the bar? You could…”

Logan, who had just finished pulling his boots on, paused mid-motion. His brow lifted as he looked at you over his shoulder. “I could… what?”

You shrugged, pushing your glasses up absentmindedly. “I don’t know. Stay.”

Logan snorted, shaking his head as he grabbed his jacket. “What, and listen to Scott ramble about team-building exercises? No thanks.”

You huffed, tilting your head. “You could grade papers.”

He let out a short laugh, shrugging on his jacket. “Yeah, ‘cause that sounds like a real fun time.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your hands. “You wouldn’t have to grade them. You could just… be here.”

Logan’s movements slowed slightly as he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket. He didn’t say anything right away, just stood there, like he was debating whether or not to argue. Then, with a sigh, he turned, arms crossed. “What’s this really about, Y/N?”

You hesitated, tapping your fingers against the blanket. “Nothing. Just thought maybe, for once, you wouldn’t leave as soon as classes were done.”

Logan studied you, his expression softening. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I just…” You trailed off, realizing how ridiculous you sounded. You weren’t clingy—at least, you didn’t think you were. But Logan was always leaving. Always heading off somewhere, whether it was a bar, a mission, or just to be alone. And even though you knew that was just the way he was, it didn’t mean you liked it.

Logan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Darlin’…”

“Never mind,” you said quickly, pushing yourself off the bed. “Forget I said anything.”

Logan caught your wrist before you could move past him, his grip firm but gentle. “Hey.” His voice was quieter now. “I didn’t mean—”

You shook your head, pulling your wrist free. “It’s fine, Logan. Go.”

His jaw clenched slightly, like he wanted to argue, but instead, he just stood there, watching as you walked past him.

You didn’t slam the door behind you, but you wanted to.

---

Logan woke up with a sharp inhale, the remnants of the dream lingering in his chest like a dull ache.

He stared at the ceiling, his breathing evening out as he tried to push the memory away. But it clung to him, heavy and persistent.

You weren’t her. And he wasn’t your Logan.

But that didn’t make it any easier.

With a grunt, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face before reaching for the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the nightstand.

He paused, staring at it for a long moment before setting it back down.

Outside, the Florida heat was already creeping in, the morning sun casting long shadows across the floor. He didn’t know what the hell he was still doing here.

But he wasn’t leaving.

Not yet.

---

The ocean breeze rolled in slow and steady, carrying the scent of salt and sunscreen as you leaned back against your towel. The Florida sun wasn’t unbearable, but it was warm enough to make you drowsy. Laura sat beside you, picking lazily at the label of her water bottle, her sunglasses shielding her eyes.

It had been a good day. The kind of day you never thought you’d have—normal, easy.

Until he showed up.

Laura was the first to notice. She didn’t say anything at first, just hummed softly before muttering, “He’s here.”

You frowned, not even opening your eyes. “Who?”

“Who do you think?”

Your stomach twisted, but you kept your expression neutral as you cracked one eye open. Sure enough, Logan stood a few yards away, leaning against a wooden post near the boardwalk. He wasn’t looking directly at you—just gazing out at the water, arms crossed, the picture of casual indifference.

It was bullshit.

You sighed, rubbing your fingers against your temple. “He’s not gonna leave, is he?”

Laura took a slow sip of her water. “Nope.”

You sat up, adjusting your sunglasses as you shot him a glare. He still wasn’t looking at you, but you knew he knew you saw him.

Laura smirked. “You gonna say something, or just keep making angry faces at him?”

“I’m not making angry faces,” you muttered.

“You are.”

You ignored her, pushing yourself up. You dusted the sand off your legs before heading toward him, your steps slow and deliberate. Logan didn’t move until you were right in front of him. Only then did he glance down, his expression unreadable.

“You lost?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Logan smirked. “Nah. Just enjoyin’ the view.”

You scoffed. “Right.”

Silence stretched between you, the sound of waves crashing filling the space where words should have been. Logan shifted slightly, but he didn’t back off.

“You gonna keep following me?” you asked, your voice low.

Logan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Ain’t followin’ you, darlin’. Just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

You arched a brow. “Really? You just happened to be at this exact beach, at this exact moment?”

“Guess it’s my lucky day,” he drawled.

You clenched your jaw, debating if you should just turn around and walk away. But something about the way he was looking at you—calm, patient, stubborn as ever—made your skin prickle.

“You waiting for me to say something?” you asked.

Logan shrugged. “Figured you might.”

You inhaled sharply, taking a step closer. “I said goodbye, Logan. You’re the one who won’t let it go.”

His expression didn’t change. “Yeah, you said goodbye. I just didn’t listen.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You don’t even know me.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, studying you. “I know enough.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

Before he could respond, Laura called out from behind you. “Are you done flirting, or should I come back later?”

Your head snapped toward her. “Laura.”

She just shrugged, completely unfazed. “What? I’m just saying.”

Logan smirked, and you turned back to him, pointing a finger at his chest. “Don’t.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk didn’t fade.

You huffed. “If you’re gonna keep hanging around, at least be useful and stay out of my way.”

Logan’s gaze flickered over you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, with an infuriating amount of ease, he said, “No promises.”

You clenched your fists, exhaling through your nose before turning sharply on your heel and walking back toward Laura.

She was still smirking when you sat down.

“Shut up,” you muttered.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

Laura leaned back on her elbows, tilting her head toward Logan. “You know, you could just talk to him like a normal person.”

You ripped open a bag of chips with more force than necessary. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

Laura hummed. “Then why’d you go over there?”

You froze mid-chew before shooting her a glare. “You are so grounded.”

Laura snorted. “Good luck enforcing that.”

You muttered something under your breath, throwing another glance at Logan, who was still standing in the same damn spot, watching the ocean like he had all the time in the world.

You hated how much it felt like he belonged there.

Laura smirked again, popping a chip into her mouth. “You’re gonna have to deal with this at some point, you know.”

You exhaled sharply. “Not today.”

“Yeah,” Laura murmured, staring at Logan. “We’ll see.”

---

It had been a week since the beach. Another week of pretending Logan wasn’t lurking in the background, watching but never interfering. Another week of Laura making way too many smug comments.

You ignored both of them.

Mostly.

Right now, you were more focused on getting home before the storm rolling in had the chance to flood the streets. Florida weather was unpredictable as hell—one minute sunny, the next a full-blown hurricane. The dark clouds overhead rumbled, lightning flashing in the distance as you pulled out of the school parking lot.

You had just turned onto the main road when the car jolted.

Then, the all-too-familiar thunk-thunk-thunk of a flat tire.

You let out a slow, controlled breath through your nose. “Of course.”

You pulled over onto the shoulder, gripping the wheel for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. This was fine. You could handle this.

The moment you stepped out, the humidity hit you like a wall. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of rain and asphalt. You crouched, assessing the damage. The back tire was completely shot, rubber torn to hell.

You sighed, pushing your hair away from your face. “Just needed one more week, you piece of shit,” you muttered, kicking the tire lightly before heading to the trunk for the spare.

A familiar rumble of an engine approached.

You froze for half a second before gritting your teeth.

Not even five minutes and he was here.

Logan’s truck slowed to a stop behind you. You didn’t have to turn around to know he was already climbing out, probably looking all smug and self-satisfied.

“Need a hand?”

You exhaled through your nose before straightening up and turning to face him. “No.”

Logan tilted his head, hands on his hips as he looked from you to the tire. “You sure? ‘Cause that looks pretty fucked.”

“I got it,” you said, crossing your arms.

Logan nodded, clearly not convinced. He watched as you popped the trunk, grabbed the spare, and then crouched back down to remove the damaged tire. You worked quickly, efficiently—this wasn’t exactly your first time handling something like this.

Logan leaned against his truck, arms crossed. “Y’know, most people would just say ‘thanks.’”

You didn’t even glance at him. “Most people aren’t me.”

Logan smirked. “No argument there.”

You ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. A bolt was being stubborn, refusing to budge. You adjusted your grip, using more force—nothing.

Logan pushed off his truck, strolling over. “Want me to—”

You stood up, cutting him off. “I swear to God, Logan, if you—”

Thunder cracked overhead, and the sky opened up.

Within seconds, you were both drenched.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply as cold rain soaked through your clothes.

Logan exhaled a short laugh. “Well. That’s unfortunate.”

You snapped your head toward him, glaring. “Really?”

He smirked, completely unfazed by the downpour. “What? You don’t like the rain?”

You huffed, brushing wet hair from your face before crouching back down. “Just shut up and let me work.”

Logan didn’t. Instead, he crouched beside you, reaching for the stubborn bolt.

You swatted his hand away. “I said I got it.”

He just looked at you, unimpressed. “It’s rusted. You need more leverage.”

“I know that.”

Logan didn’t argue. He just waited.

You exhaled sharply before finally moving aside, just enough for him to take over.

With one sharp twist, the bolt loosened.

You clenched your jaw. “Show-off.”

Logan smirked. “You loosened it for me.”

You rolled your eyes, but together, the two of you worked in sync—removing the damaged tire, fitting the spare, tightening the bolts. It was quick, practiced, almost too easy.

By the time you finished, the rain had slowed, leaving the both of you completely soaked.

Logan stood, brushing water from his arms. “Could’ve just let me do the whole thing.”

You shut the trunk with more force than necessary. “Could’ve just driven past and minded your own damn business.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

You glared at him, but before you could respond, another engine rumbled down the road.

A blue sedan slowed beside you. The passenger window rolled down, revealing an older woman with a concerned expression.

“Everything alright, dear?” she asked, eyes flicking between you and Logan.

You forced a polite smile. “Yeah, I—”

“She’s fine,” Logan interrupted.

You turned sharply toward him. “Excuse you?”

Logan ignored you, giving the woman a nod. “Just a flat. All good now.”

The woman hesitated, glancing at you again before nodding slowly. “Alright, if you’re sure. Stay safe.”

The moment she drove off, you turned to Logan, scowling. “What the hell was that?”

Logan shrugged. “What? You were fine.”

You threw your hands up. “And I couldn’t say that myself?”

Logan smirked. “You could’ve, but you were takin’ too long.”

You huffed, rubbing your temples. “You are insufferable.”

Logan grinned. “And yet, here you are.”

You took a slow breath, reining in your frustration. “Are we done here?”

Logan looked you over, still clearly amused. “Need me to follow you home? Just in case?”

“I’d rather drive off a bridge.”

“Bit dramatic, don’t ya think?”

You turned toward your car, muttering, “Go to hell, Logan.”

He chuckled, stepping back toward his truck. “I’ll see you around, darlin’.”

You didn’t respond, just slammed the driver’s door shut before pulling back onto the road.

When you glanced in the rearview mirror, Logan was still standing there, watching.

And damn it, you hated the way it made your chest tighten.

---

Laura was already sitting on the couch when you walked through the front door, damp clothes clinging to your skin, rain still dripping from your hair. She took one look at you—soaked, pissed off, barely holding yourself together—and sighed.

"You let him help, didn’t you?"

You dropped your keys on the counter with more force than necessary. "No."

Laura arched a brow.

You clenched your jaw, yanking open the fridge just to give yourself something to do. "Fine. Kind of."

Laura smirked. "Figured."

You grabbed a water bottle and shut the fridge, exhaling sharply. "He just happened to be there."

"Uh-huh."

You turned, leveling her with a glare. "Don’t start."

Laura held up her hands in mock surrender, but the amusement never left her face. "I’m just saying, for someone who wants him to leave, you sure make it easy for him to stick around."

You threw the water bottle onto the counter. "You think I want him here?"

Laura’s smirk faded slightly, her expression shifting into something more thoughtful. "I think you don’t know what you want."

That did it.

Your patience, already worn thin, snapped.

"You think I don’t know?" you shot back, voice rising. "You think this is easy? That I like having him in the background, watching, waiting, making me remember things I don’t want to remember?"

Laura blinked, caught off guard by the sudden outburst.

You ran a hand through your wet hair, pacing. "Do you know how hard I worked to move on? How hard I tried to build something—anything—that didn’t lead back to him? And now he’s here, and I can’t—" You cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. "I won’t let him pull me back into it."

Laura’s brows pulled together, her voice quieter. "Mom—"

"No," you said, pointing at her. "You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to act like I’m the one making it complicated when he’s the one who won’t leave."

Laura’s jaw tightened. "Maybe he won’t leave because he actually gives a shit."

"That’s not the point!"

"Then what is the point?" she snapped, standing now. "That he’s not our Logan? That he’s not your Logan?"

You flinched.

Laura shook her head. "You keep acting like he’s a ghost, but he’s not. He’s here. And you can keep pretending it doesn’t matter, but it does. He does."

Your chest tightened. "He’s not the man I married."

"No," Laura said, her voice quieter but no less firm. "But he’s still Logan."

Silence.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a vice.

Laura let out a slow breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know you miss him."

Your throat burned. "It doesn’t matter."

"It does."

You shook your head, turning away. "I need to shower."

"Mom—"

"I need to shower, Laura."

She didn’t argue this time. She just watched as you walked toward the bathroom, your legs heavier with every step.

When the door clicked shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, squeezing your eyes shut.

You could still hear his voice in your head, feel the warmth of his hands on yours, see the way he used to look at you—like you were the only thing keeping him steady.

And now he was here. Not your Logan. Not the man you’d built a life with. But Logan all the same.

Laura was right.

But that didn’t mean you were ready to face it.

---

You grunted as you pulled again, trying to unlodge the stubborn screw. “Stupid. Fucking—” A warm hand enveloped yours, you didn’t need to turn around to know who’s. “I got it, kotik.”

He hummed, not condescending, but like he knew you did. “I know. Just lemme help.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose but didn’t fight him when his hand covered yours, his other gripping the wrench. With barely any effort, he turned it, the stubborn screw finally giving way with a sharp creak.

You scowled. “I had it.”

Logan smirked, setting the wrench down. “Sure, sweetheart.”

You huffed, swiping your arm across your forehead, smudging a bit of grease in the process. Logan caught it, his thumb brushing the mark off before you could duck away. His touch lingered, his eyes scanning your face.

“What’s wrong?”

You scoffed, grabbing a rag to wipe your hands. “It was the damn screw you just unlodged.”

Logan’s brow twitched. “Try again.”

You sighed, rolling your shoulders, the tension refusing to ease. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t ask if it was nothing,” he said, arms crossing. “Asked what’s wrong.”

You hesitated, gripping the rag tighter before exhaling. “Scott’s just… piling things on me. Ororo asked me to help out more with the kids during training, which I want to do, but then Scott starts throwing his bullshit at me too. Paperwork, scheduling, grading tests that he’s supposed to be handling." You shook your head. "And now, apparently, I’m also in charge of making sure half the team doesn’t set themselves on fire in the Danger Room.”

Logan nodded slowly. “That all?”

Your jaw clenched. “No.”

He waited, saying nothing. Just watching.

You groaned, tossing the rag onto the workbench. “It’s everything. The mansion, the missions, the meetings—God, the meetings. I swear, if I have to sit through another three-hour debate about whether the Blackbird should have a different paint job, I’m gonna throw myself off the roof.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, stepping closer. “Y’know, you could just tell ‘em to go to hell.”

You snorted. “Yeah, and then Scott would really make my life miserable.”

Logan’s hand found your waist, his grip warm and steady. “Then let me do it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, that would go over great. You storming into a meeting, claws out, telling Summers where to shove his clipboard.”

Logan grinned. “Tempting.”

You sighed, finally leaning into him. “I’m just tired, kotik.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “I know.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. His hand traced slow circles against your lower back, grounding you. The steady rise and fall of his breathing, the quiet hum of the mansion in the distance—it was enough to make you forget the stress, just for a second.

“You should tell him no,” Logan murmured.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “And what? Let the entire school burn down?”

His lips twitched. “Not our problem.”

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. “You say that, but we both know you’d be the first one running in if it did.”

Logan’s smirk softened. “Maybe.”

You sighed, resting your forehead against his chest. “I hate when you’re right.”

“Lucky for you, it ain’t often.”

You smiled against his shirt, letting the exhaustion slip away—at least for now.

---

You woke up to the sound of waves crashing outside, your chest tight, your skin too warm.

For a moment, you forgot where you were. You expected the distant hum of the mansion, the smell of Logan’s aftershave, the warmth of his body beside you.

But the bed was empty. The room was quiet.

And Logan was gone.

You swallowed hard, blinking up at the ceiling.

It was just a dream.

Just a memory.

And that’s all it would ever be.

---

The day passed in a blur. You went through the motions—teaching gym class, keeping the kids in line, pretending like nothing was wrong. Like you hadn’t spent the entire morning haunted by a dream that wasn’t just a dream.

Like Logan hadn’t found you.

You’d seen him again after work. He wasn’t trying to hide this time. He leaned against his truck, arms crossed, watching from across the parking lot. Not approaching. Not leaving. Just waiting.

And it pissed you off.

Laura wasn’t home when you got back. Probably at the beach or grabbing food. You had a few hours to yourself, time to think, time to breathe—

A knock at the door cut through the silence.

You stared at it.

Another knock. Louder this time.

You already knew who it was.

Jaw clenched, you walked over and yanked the door open, grip tight on the handle.

Logan stood there, his expression unreadable. “Hey.”

You didn’t hesitate. “No.”

His brow furrowed. “No?”

You stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind you. “No. Whatever the hell you think you’re doing? No.”

Logan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Ain’t here to start a fight, darlin’.”

“Then why are you here?” you snapped, crossing your arms. “Because if you think I’m just gonna let you hover around like some stray, you’re dead wrong.”

Logan’s jaw flexed. “I just wanna talk.”

“And say the same goddamn bullshit? Here’s the thing,” you gripped the collar of his leather jacket tightly, pulling him slightly closer to you. “I don’t fucking care.”

Logan didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

Your fingers curled tighter around his jacket, the leather warm beneath your grip. “You think this is romantic? You think tailing me for months, showing up at my fucking door, is gonna make me change my mind?” You shoved him back—hard. He barely stumbled. “I don’t care what you have to say, Logan.”

His jaw clenched. “Yeah? Then why’d you open the door?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Because I knew you wouldn’t leave if I didn’t.”

Logan exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not here to fight with you.”

“Then what the hell do you want?” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the humid night air.

He dropped his hand, looking at you like the answer was obvious. “I want to know why you’re lyin’ to yourself.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Jesus, Logan, get over yourself.”

“I ain’t talkin’ about me,” he shot back. “I’m talkin’ about you.”

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms. “I told you—”

“No, you haven’t,” Logan interrupted, stepping closer. “You keep pushin’ me away, but you ain’t sayin’ why.”

“Because I don’t owe you a fucking reason,” you snapped.

Logan studied you, his gaze slow, careful. “It’s ‘cause of him, ain’t it?”

Your stomach twisted, but your expression didn’t falter. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do,” he murmured. “The Logan you lost. The one that was yours.”

Your breath hitched.

Logan’s voice was quieter now, steady but rough. “That’s why you’re runnin’, why you won’t let yourself stop. ‘Cause you think if you do, you’re betrayin’ him.”

You hated how easily he saw through you.

Your throat felt tight, but you forced out a scoff. “You don’t know shit, Logan.”

“I know grief.” His voice was low, weighted. “I know what it does to you. How it makes you feel like movin’ on is some kinda sin.”

You looked away, jaw tight.

“I also know,” he continued, “that it don’t go away. Don’t matter how far you run, how many times you try to start over.” His tone softened, just slightly. “It stays with you. But it don’t mean you gotta stay buried with it.”

Your hands trembled. You curled them into fists to stop it.

“Look at me,” Logan said.

You didn’t.

A rough sigh, then—you felt it. His hand, warm, familiar, pressing against the side of your face. You stiffened, but he didn’t force it, just let his thumb brush against your cheek.

“Darlin’,” Logan murmured. “I ain’t askin’ you to forget him.”

You swallowed hard.

“I just don’t want you to forget yourself.”

Your breath hitched.

You wanted to shove him away again. Wanted to punch him. Wanted to yell and tell him he was wrong.

But the worst part? He wasn’t.

And you fucking hated him for it.

Your eyes stung, but you refused to let them fall.

Finally, you forced yourself to move, pulling back, breaking the contact. “Go home, Logan.”

Logan didn’t move.

You inhaled sharply. “I mean it.”

He studied you for a long moment before nodding once. “Alright.”

Then—he stepped back, hands in his pockets. But he didn’t turn around. Didn’t leave.

Not yet.

His gaze lingered on you, something unreadable in it.

Then, quieter, rougher—

“I’ll see you around.”

You didn’t answer.

And this time, when he walked away—you didn’t watch him go.

---

He could tell you weren’t fully asleep, nor fully awake, when he got back. The lamp on your bedside table was still on, but your glasses were neatly folded on top of your book.

“Hmm? Logan?”

He slipped off his boots and pulled off his shirt before sliding in behind you, gently pushing your shoulder down so you wouldn’t get up. “Yeah. ‘S me.”

"It’s 2 in the morning." Your voice was quiet, thick with sleep. "You’ve been comin’ home later."

Logan exhaled through his nose, running a hand down his face as he settled onto the bed beside you. His body was still warm from the whiskey, the buzz clinging to the edges of his thoughts. He didn’t answer right away, just reached over and turned off your lamp, leaving only the soft glow of the nightlight in the corner.

You shifted, turning onto your side to face him. Even in the dim light, he could see your eyes—heavy with exhaustion but still watching him, still waiting. You always waited.

For months now, you had tried to get him to stay. At first, you asked outright, voice soft but certain—"Stay tonight?" And when that didn’t work, you tried coaxing, offering quiet conversation, little distractions, your presence alone.

Then, when that didn’t work either, it became this.

Half-asleep murmurs. The lingering hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d come home early for once.

But he never did.

"Yeah," Logan muttered, shifting onto his back. "Got caught up."

You huffed, barely a sound, but he felt it more than heard it. "You always do."

Logan stared at the ceiling, jaw tight. He could feel the weight of your gaze on him, the way you were waiting for him to say something—anything—to ease the ache in your chest. But he didn’t. Because he didn’t know how.

The silence stretched between you.

Then, quietly, you spoke again. "You don’t have to go every night."

Logan swallowed, his throat dry. He could lie, say it wasn’t about the bar, say he just needed the air. But you weren’t stupid. You knew what he was doing, why he kept his distance even when he was right here beside you.

So he didn’t say anything at all.

After a beat, you sighed and turned over, your back to him. A clear dismissal.

Logan closed his eyes, listening to the quiet sound of your breathing as you drifted off.

It wasn’t always like this.

At the start, you stayed up for him. You’d wait in the library, curled up with a book, or in the kitchen with tea, pretending you just happened to be awake. You used to smile when he walked in, small and tired but warm. You’d ask how his night was, even when you knew he wouldn’t answer properly.

And then, when you realized nothing changed, you started waiting in bed instead. Eyes heavy but open, glasses slipping down your nose, always murmuring some half-asleep greeting before reaching for him.

Now? Now you barely waited at all.

Logan exhaled, turning his head to look at you. You were already asleep.

Something settled deep in his chest—heavy, uncomfortable.

This wouldn’t last.

You wouldn’t wait forever.

And for the first time, the thought of losing you—of pushing you too far—felt a hell of a lot worse than whatever he was trying to drown at the bottom of a bottle.

---

Logan’s eyes snapped open.

For a second, he was disoriented, still caught in the haze of the dream—no, the memory. He could still feel the warmth of you beside him, still hear your voice, soft and tired, asking him to stay.

But when he blinked, the bedroom was gone.

No mansion. No soft lamp glow.

Just the inside of his truck, the Florida heat creeping in through the cracked window.

Logan let out a slow breath, scrubbing a hand down his face. His body was tense, jaw clenched so tight it ached. The dream had been too real—too damn vivid.

He reached for the flask in the cupholder, unscrewing the cap with steady fingers. He didn’t drink from it. Just held it.

The memory had felt like a lifetime ago. Because it was—but not his. Not this Logan’s.

It was hers.

The woman who wasn’t his Y/N but still had the same voice, the same eyes, the same way of looking at him like he was something worth waiting for.

Except this time?

She wasn’t waiting.

And Logan wasn’t sure if he was ready for what that meant.

---

For the first time in weeks, Logan wasn’t there.

You didn’t see him leaning against his truck outside the school. He wasn’t loitering at the grocery store. He wasn’t in your goddamn peripheral, watching but never pushing, always waiting for you to acknowledge him.

And it pissed you off.

You should’ve been relieved. You had told him to leave, to back off. You had shoved him, yelled at him, made it perfectly clear that you didn’t need him here—didn’t want him here.

So why the hell did your chest feel tight?

Why did you keep glancing out the window when you left work, expecting to see him?

Why did it feel wrong that he wasn’t following?

Laura noticed before you did.

“You’re looking for him,” she said flatly, popping a fry into her mouth as the two of you sat at a booth in some local diner.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Laura gave you a look over the rim of her milkshake. “Logan.”

You scoffed, picking at the label of your water bottle. “I’m not—”

“Yeah, you are.” She dipped a fry in ketchup, not even trying to hide her smirk. “You’ve checked the door, like, five times.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was looking at the—” You stopped, realizing you had absolutely nothing to follow that up with.

Laura arched a brow. “Right.”

You huffed, slouching back against the booth. “He’s not here.”

“Yeah. Because you told him to leave.”

“So?”

Laura shrugged. “Didn’t think he actually would, did you?”

You didn’t answer.

Because the truth was, you hadn’t expected him to leave. Logan was stubborn. Logan didn’t give up. If anything, you had expected him to show up again, keep pushing, keep trying to get you to talk.

But he hadn’t.

And for some reason, that scared you.

Laura sighed, wiping her hands on a napkin before leaning forward. “You can’t have it both ways, you know.”

Your brow furrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you can’t tell him to leave and then get all weird when he actually does.”

You clenched your jaw. “I didn’t want him here.”

Laura tilted her head. “Didn’t you?”

You stared at her, stomach twisting, because you didn’t want him here—did you?

No. You didn’t.

But you didn’t want him gone, either.

You stood abruptly, tossing some bills onto the table. “C’mon. We’re leaving.”

Laura just smirked. “Where to?”

You grabbed your jacket. “I need to find Logan.”

---

It didn’t take long.

Logan wasn’t exactly subtle, and you had been trained to track people long before you ever met him. It was almost insulting how easy it was.

His truck was parked outside some shitty motel off the main road, tucked into the shadows near a flickering neon sign.

You could’ve knocked on his door. Could’ve walked right up, demanded an explanation—Why the hell did you listen to me?

But you didn’t.

Instead, you waited.

You sat in your car across the street, watching from the shadows, waiting to see if he’d leave. If he’d drive off, if he was planning on staying. If he was really, actually gone.

But Logan never left.

Hours passed. The motel lights flickered. You saw him once—stepping outside just long enough to smoke a cigarette before heading back in. No sign of him packing up, no sign of him driving away.

He wasn’t following you anymore.

But he hadn’t left, either.

You exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel.

This was the first time in months that Logan wasn’t hovering just outside your reach. And yet, you had tracked him down anyway.

Maybe Laura was right.

Maybe you hadn’t wanted him to leave.

Not really.

You ran a hand through your hair, exhaling sharply as you stared at Logan’s truck.

What the hell am I doing?

You had spent months trying to get him to leave, and now here you were, parked outside some shitty motel like some stalker, watching and waiting. For what? For him to notice? For him to come back?

No. That wasn’t what you wanted.

You gritted your teeth, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Then why are you still here?

You could just drive away. Go back home, pretend like you never saw him, pretend like this didn’t bother you.

But it did.

It bothered you that he listened. It bothered you that he left. It bothered you that, for the first time since he showed up, he wasn’t pushing you.

And you didn’t know why that scared you.

With a frustrated sigh, you shoved the door open and got out, the night air thick and humid around you. The gravel crunched beneath your boots as you crossed the street, your steps quick and deliberate.

You didn’t give yourself time to hesitate. If you thought about it too much, you’d turn back. And you weren’t ready to do that yet.

You knocked on the motel door.

Silence.

Your jaw clenched, and you knocked again—louder this time.

Still nothing.

A flicker of irritation ran through you. “Logan, open the damn door.”

Nothing.

Your patience snapped. You grabbed the doorknob and twisted. It was locked, of course, but that was never a problem for you. With a practiced flick of your wrist, you popped the lock and shoved the door open.

Logan was inside, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, a cigar burning between his fingers. He didn’t look surprised to see you. If anything, he looked tired.

“Real subtle, darlin’,” he muttered, exhaling smoke through his nose.

You crossed your arms. “You weren’t answering.”

“Didn’t feel like talkin’.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Too bad.”

Logan huffed out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Figures.”

You stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind you. “You just gonna sit there?”

“What do you want, Y/N?” Logan asked, his voice rough. Not annoyed. Just… tired.

The way he said your name made your stomach twist. You weren’t sure why.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, crossing your arms tighter.

Logan studied you, taking another slow drag from his cigar before stubbing it out in the ashtray. “Then why are you here?”

You shifted on your feet, avoiding his gaze. Because you left. Because I thought I wanted you gone, but now that you are, I—

You shook the thought away, exhaling sharply. “I just… I thought you would’ve left.”

Logan arched a brow. “And that bothered you?”

You hesitated.

That was enough of an answer.

Logan sighed, leaning back against the bed, arms resting behind him. “You told me to back off. So I did.”

You scoffed. “You don’t listen to people.”

Logan smirked slightly. “Guess you ain’t people.”

You hated how easily that threw you off balance.

Your throat tightened. “I don’t—”

“I ain’t askin’ for anything,” Logan said, cutting you off. “Not chasin’ you. Not pushin’ you. I meant what I said—I don’t wanna force you into anything.”

You swallowed hard. “Then why are you still here?”

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. “Maybe ‘cause I don’t want to leave, either.”

The air in the room felt heavy. Stifling.

You had spent so much time running, so much time convincing yourself that pushing him away was the only option. But now, standing here, looking at him—tired, frustrated, but still here—you didn’t know what the hell you were supposed to do anymore.

You took a slow breath, forcing your voice to stay steady. “You were… right.”

His brows furrowed slightly, like he wasn’t sure what part you were referring to.

You swallowed, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. “What you said. About grief. About moving on feeling like a sin.”

Logan stayed quiet, but his gaze sharpened, locking onto yours.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “I spent years running because it was easier. Because if I stopped, if I let myself…” You trailed off, fingers curling around your arms. “Then it would feel like I was betraying him. Like I was forgetting him.”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

Your throat felt tight, but you forced yourself to keep talking. “I tried to build something new with Laura. I wanted to. And for a while, it worked. Seven years in Canada, we were okay. We were living, not just surviving. And then—” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “The TVA happened. The Void happened. And suddenly, it was like all that time meant nothing.”

Logan was still watching you, but his expression was unreadable, his hands resting on his thighs as he leaned forward slightly.

“Then you showed up.” Your voice was quieter now. “And I didn’t know what the hell to do with that. Because I knew you weren’t him. I knew that. But every time I looked at you, every time you called me ‘darlin’ and looked at me like you knew me…” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “It just made me feel like I was losing him all over again.”

“I mean, I can’t even take off my damn wedding ring,” your voice cracked, “without feeling nauseous even though it’s been years.”

Logan’s gaze flicked down to your hand, to the ring still wrapped around your finger. His jaw clenched, something flickering in his eyes—something you didn’t want to name.

“You think that’s wrong?” he asked, voice low.

You swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

Logan exhaled through his nose, shifting forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “Ain’t wrong to hold onto what matters.”

Your fingers twitched, curling slightly, but you didn’t look away. “Then why does it feel like it is?”

Logan was quiet for a moment, studying you. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, steadier. “Because you think lettin’ go means losin’ him.”

Your throat tightened, but you didn’t answer.

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I ain’t gonna tell you to take it off. Ain’t gonna tell you to move on, either.” He leaned back, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “That’s gotta be your choice, darlin’.”

Something about that made your stomach twist. Maybe because you had spent so long convincing yourself you had to move on, that moving on meant leaving Logan behind—your Logan. The one who wasn’t sitting in front of you.

But then Logan spoke again, and his next words shattered every bit of resolve you had left.

“You ain’t the only one holdin’ on.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Logan reached into his pocket, pulling something out—something small, something old. He turned it over in his fingers before setting it on the nightstand beside him.

A ring.

Gold, simple, worn from time.

Your stomach flipped.

“I bought this the first time I met you,” he said, voice rough. “A long time ago. Different you. Different me. But you always come back, don’t you?”

You stared at the ring, your heartbeat hammering against your ribs. “Logan—”

“I kept it,” he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the band. “Every time. Even when I knew I’d lose you again.” He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “And every time, I tell myself I won’t go through it again.”

You swallowed hard. “But you do.”

Logan smirked slightly, but there was no humor behind it. “Yeah. Guess I do.”

Silence settled between you, heavy with everything left unsaid. The motel room felt smaller now, the air thicker. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your chest tight with something you weren’t ready to name.

Finally, you moved.

You walked forward, slow but deliberate, until you were standing right in front of him. Logan didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched you with that same patient, knowing look.

And then—hesitantly—you sat down next to him.

Not close enough to touch. Not close enough for it to mean anything.

But not far, either.

Logan didn’t say a word.

And for the first time in a long time, neither did you.

---

A few weeks later

You were cooking dinner while drinking a glass of wine—or rather the whole bottle. It wasn’t your fault you had a high alcohol tolerance.

“Jesus, fuck kid!”

“You started it!”

You furrowed your brows, stepping onto the back porch, wine glass still in hand. The salty ocean breeze brushed past as you leaned against the wooden railing, watching Logan and Laura circle each other in the sand.

The backyard—if you could even call it that—was part of a private beach, the stretch of sand leading straight into the rolling waves. Normally, it was peaceful. Right now? Not so much.

Logan huffed, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, and I’m endin’ it.”

“Doubt it,” Laura smirked before lunging again.

You sighed, watching them spar. To anyone else, it probably looked brutal—claws flashing, sand kicking up with every hit—but you knew better. This was bonding. In the weird, violent, feral way that only the Howlett bloodline could manage.

Laura landed a punch against Logan’s ribs, but he barely flinched. He countered by grabbing her wrist and twisting her to the ground, pinning her for a brief second before she slipped free and jumped back to her feet.

“You two done trying to kill each other?” you called out, swirling the wine in your glass.

Logan scoffed, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. “She’s the one that don’t know when to quit.”

Laura grinned, unfazed. “Neither do you.”

You huffed a quiet laugh before pushing off the railing. “Dinner’s almost done. Either finish up or starve.”

Neither of them responded, too caught up in the fight, but you knew they’d trail in soon enough. You turned and walked back inside, closing the sliding door behind you.

What you didn’t see was Laura catching Logan staring at your ass as you walked away.

She paused, then turned slowly toward him.

Logan blinked, realizing too late that he’d been caught.

“…Don’t,” he warned.

Laura smirked. “Too late.”

Then she lunged—only this time, it wasn’t part of the fight. She jumped onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck, and before Logan could react, she drove her foot claws into his ribs.

“Mother—fuck!”

Laura hopped off, landing perfectly on the sand while Logan stumbled forward, clutching his side. Blood bloomed beneath his shirt.

“That’s what you get,” Laura said simply, brushing sand off her hands.

Logan glared at her. “For what?!”

“For being gross.”

Logan clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring. “I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you were.” Laura crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. “Don’t do it again.”

Logan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ, kid.”

Laura just smirked, turning toward the house. “C’mon, old man. Before she yells at us for being late.”

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair before following her inside.

By the time they stepped into the house, you were already setting plates on the table. You barely glanced up—until you noticed the two fresh blood spots on Logan’s shirt.

You exhaled sharply through your nose. “Сраные идиоты,” you muttered under your breath.

Logan frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said flatly. “Sit.”

Logan sighed, knowing better than to argue. He pulled out a chair and sat down, peeling off his shirt with a wince. Laura dropped into the seat across from him, completely unbothered, already helping herself to food.

---

You took another sip of coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching as Laura shoveled cereal into her mouth at a pace that should’ve been illegal. Across the room, Logan sat in a chair, looking far too at home with his cup of coffee, flipping through the newspaper like it was 1954.

It was normal. Too normal.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why the hell are you reading the paper?”

Logan didn’t look up. “Why the hell are you watchin’ me read the paper?”

Laura snorted, not even trying to hide her smirk. “He’s got a point.”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of coffee. “It’s weird.”

Logan finally looked up from his paper, brow raised. “What’s weird?”

“You,” you said, motioning at him with your mug. “Sitting there, reading the paper like some suburban dad in a toothpaste commercial.”

Logan smirked, flicking the edge of the page. “It’s called keepin’ up with the world, sweetheart.”

Laura snorted. “You’re reading the classifieds.”

Logan flipped the paper shut with a sigh. “Well, excuse me for enjoyin’ the simple things.”

You shook your head, amused. It had only been a few weeks since he stopped lurking in the background and actually started integrating into your lives. He had a habit of acting like he didn’t belong—like he was just passing through, despite all evidence to the contrary. But moments like these, sitting at the kitchen table, bickering over nothing? They felt normal.

Not forced. Not heavy. Just… easy.

You were about to tease him again when the sound of a car horn blasted through the quiet morning.

Laura groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Logan frowned, setting the paper aside. “Who the hell—”

Another honk. Longer this time.

“Motherfu—” You set your coffee down and turned toward the door, already knowing exactly who it was.

Logan followed, his expression somewhere between annoyed and resigned. “You expecting company?”

You grabbed the shotgun from beside the door, checking the chamber. “Nope.”

Laura smirked, leaning against the counter. “I call headshot.”

You smirked back. “Good luck. I’m faster.”

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ. Just don’t kill ‘im.”

“No promises.”

You stepped onto the porch, raising the shotgun as you caught sight of Wade, standing beside his beat-up rental car, arms outstretched like some kind of messiah.

“Hello, my beautiful, homicidal family!” he called, grinning under his mask.

You pulled the trigger.

The first shot hit him square in the chest.

He staggered back, wheezing. “Okay—ow.”

You pumped the shotgun and fired again, this time hitting his shoulder.

Wade groaned, clutching his arm. “Rude!”

Logan stepped onto the porch behind you, arms crossed. “Really?”

You shrugged, pumping the shotgun again. “He’s still standing.”

Wade held up a finger. “Technically, I’m swaying.”

Laura stepped outside, standing next to Logan. “You missed his head.”

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t miss. I’m savoring it.”

Wade straightened, shaking out his arms. “Alright, I deserved that. Maybe. Probably not. But—” He put his hands on his hips. “Didn’t expect the welcoming committee to include bullets.”

“You helped him find us,” you reminded him, motioning toward Logan with the barrel of the gun. “And then you just disappeared.”

Wade gasped. “Disappeared? Sweetheart, I gave you your own personal brooding, clawed man-child and then respectfully stepped aside so you could work through your very complicated feelings.” He tilted his head. “Which, judging by the tension on this porch, you’re still working through.”

You aimed the shotgun at his head.

“Okay! Okay!” Wade put his hands up. “I come in peace! No missions, no TVA bullshit, no looming apocalyptic threats. Just little old me, paying a visit to my favorite dysfunctional murder family.”

Laura tilted her head. “You brought gifts?”

Wade paused. “No.”

Laura looked at you. “Shoot him again.”

“Gladly.”

Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let the idiot talk before you put another hole in him.”

You exhaled sharply but lowered the gun. “Fine. Five minutes.”

Wade dusted himself off, cracking his neck. “I can work with that.” He strolled past you and into the house like he owned the place.

Logan shot you a look.

You just shrugged. “I’ll reload.”

Logan exhaled sharply, shaking his head as Wade strolled inside like he owned the place. You followed, setting the shotgun back in its usual spot near the door, but you kept an eye on Wade as he plopped onto the couch, boots kicked up on the coffee table like he belonged there.

Laura sat back down at the kitchen counter, spooning more cereal into her mouth as she watched the interaction unfold like a live-action sitcom.

Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “So? You gonna explain why you’re here, or am I just supposed to shoot you myself?”

Wade sighed dramatically, tilting his head back. “Wow. No ‘Hey, Wade, long time no see!’ No ‘How’s life treating you, Wade?’ Just straight to the violence. And after everything I’ve done for you.”

“You didn’t do shit,” Logan muttered.

Wade gasped, clutching his chest. “I helped you find your long-lost murder wife and stabby daughter! And this is the thanks I get?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You helped him track us, then bailed. So yeah, not exactly getting a warm welcome.”

Wade sat up, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, please. You two needed time to work through your very complicated emotions without my handsome, charming self getting in the way.” He glanced at Laura. “Right, stabby junior?”

Laura scooped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. “Don’t call me that.”

“See?” Wade pointed at her. “Bonding. Growth. Character development. I did you all a favor.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You got five minutes to explain why you’re here before I throw your ass back outside.”

“Fine, fine.” Wade rolled his shoulders. “Like I said, no missions, no apocalyptic disasters, no TVA crap. I just thought, ‘Hey, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen my two favorite feral murderers and their grumpy third wheel—why not drop in?’”

Laura swallowed her bite of cereal. “You came all this way for that?”

“Yes!” Wade threw his hands up. “Is it a crime to want to visit family?”

You scoffed. “We’re not family.”

“Well, no, but emotionally? Spiritually? Definitely.” Wade turned to Logan. “Especially you, big guy. We’ve got history. We’ve been through things. We’ve murdered people together. That’s a bond you don’t just throw away.”

Logan groaned. “Christ.”

Laura wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “You got a hotel or something?”

Wade grinned under the mask. “I was actually thinking I’d crash here.”

You, Logan, and Laura all responded in unison.

“No.”

Wade groaned, flopping back onto the couch. “You people have no hospitality.”

“We have boundaries,” you corrected.

“And I have a deep, unrelenting need to be included in your lives,” Wade countered, making himself comfortable.

Logan pushed off the wall. “You’re leavin’ in an hour.”

“Oh, c’mon, Logan, don’t be like that,” Wade whined. “I brought snacks.” He reached into his utility belt, pulling out a crumpled bag of gas station gummy bears.

Laura stared at them. “Are those even sealed?”

“Nope.” Wade shook the bag. “Still good, though.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Jesus, Wade.”

“What? It’s the thought that counts.” He sat up again, stretching his arms. “So, what’ve you lovebirds been up to?”

“Don’t start,” you warned.

Wade leaned in, resting his chin on his hands. “Oh, I’m starting. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. And let me tell you—there’s a whole lot of unresolved, slow-burn, will-they-won’t-they going on.”

Logan scowled. “Ain’t shit goin’ on.”

Wade gasped. “So you admit there could be something going on?”

Logan turned to you. “Can I kill him?”

You took a sip of your coffee, considering it. “I mean, he’d just come back.”

Laura stood, grabbing her backpack from the counter. “I’m going to the beach. I don’t have the patience for this.”

Wade pouted. “Aww, leaving so soon?”

Laura slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbing an apple from the counter. “Yeah. Before I commit an actual homicide.”

You motioned toward the door with your coffee mug. “Have fun, don’t kill anyone.”

Laura pointed at Wade. “No promises if he follows me.”

Wade placed a hand over his heart. “I would never.”

Laura shot him a look before heading out, leaving the three of you alone.

Wade stretched his arms over his head. “Sooo… what’s next? Movie night? Group therapy? A good ol’ fashioned team-building exercise?”

Logan grabbed him by the back of his suit, hauling him toward the door.

“Alright, alright! I get it!” Wade protested, feet dragging against the floor. “I’ll leave! But just know this—I will be back. Because deep down, you all love me.”

Logan yanked the door open and shoved him outside.

Wade turned back, wagging a finger. “This isn’t over.”

Logan slammed the door shut.

Silence.

You took a sip of coffee. “Ten bucks says he comes back in an hour.”

Logan sighed. “I hate that you’re probably right.”

---

The smell of fresh coffee drifts through the small kitchen as you rummage in a cabinet for cereal. Laura, half-asleep in an old T-shirt and shorts, slumps at the table with her chin propped on one hand. Across from her, Logan reads the newspaper, though he’s not really turning the pages—more like staring at the same article, his focus wandering.

You pull out the cereal box, shaking it to confirm it still has something inside. “Any of you want a bowl, or am I the only one who still eats this?”

Laura mumbles without lifting her head, “I’ll take some. Didn’t we run out of milk yesterday?”

Logan finally looks up, folding the paper. “I grabbed some on the way home last night.”

You tilt your head, somewhat surprised. “You did?”

He shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Figured you two would appreciate not startin’ the day with black coffee and dry cereal.” He sets the newspaper aside, standing to help. “I’ll grab it.”

Laura lifts her head, eyeing the two of you with mild suspicion. “That’s… domestic.”

Logan huffs a soft laugh, opening the fridge. “You callin’ me soft, kid?”

She smirks, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Just making an observation.”

You slide a bowl across to her. “Say thank you, or he’s never doing anything nice again.”

Logan snorts, pouring milk into your bowl first. “You sayin’ I’m not nice?”

Laura just raises a brow. “You’re nice in a grumpy, borderline-feral way, sure.”

You stifle a laugh, taking the milk carton from Logan to finish up Laura’s bowl. “Settle down, you two. It’s too early for bickering.”

Laura mumbles a reluctant, “Thanks,” before digging in.

Logan leans against the counter, sipping from a mug of coffee. For a moment, there’s a quiet ease in the room: Laura’s crunching cereal, you adding sugar to your cup, the morning sun filtering through the windows. No drama, no big conversations—just normal, daily life.

Finally, Laura sets her spoon down, glancing at Logan over the rim of her bowl. “So… you’re picking me up after I’m done, right?”

Logan nods. “Figured I’d swing by. Unless you’d rather walk?”

She wrinkles her nose. “It’s like a hundred degrees. I’ll take the ride.”

You snort into your coffee. “Told you that you shouldn’t wear all black if you’re worried about the heat, muñeca.”

Laura shoots you a light glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I like black.”

Logan smirks, finishing the last of his coffee. “Kinda partial to it myself.”

Laura gestures at both your outfits—yours is a faded tank top and shorts, Logan’s wearing his usual jeans and a T-shirt. “We need a family shopping trip, or something. This color scheme is depressing.”

You exchange a glance with Logan, both of you raising a brow.

“Look, we’re not exactly the pastel type,” you say, shrugging.

Laura just sighs dramatically. “Fine. I’ll be the fashion icon in this house.”

Logan folds his arms, feigning seriousness. “I can’t wait to see what horrors you drag us into.”

---

Not long after breakfast, you find yourself sorting through a pile of laundry in the living room, music playing softly from an old radio. Logan wanders in from the porch, running a hand through his hair.

“Got your towels on the line,” he says, plopping down on the couch. “They should be dry by lunch.”

You raise a brow, folding one of Laura’s T-shirts. “Look at you, all domesticated.”

He grunts. “I know how to hang a towel.”

“Sure you do,” you tease, giving him a sideways look. “Next step: vacuuming.”

He picks an invisible speck of lint off his jeans. “Don’t push it.”

You fight a grin, focusing back on the laundry. It’s quiet for a bit, just the low hum of the radio filling the space.

Eventually, Logan clears his throat. “I was thinkin’,” he starts, somewhat hesitant. “We could grill tonight. Might as well enjoy the weather before it gets too hot.”

You pause, glancing his way. “Sounds good. Laura’s meeting with her friends later, but she’ll be back for dinner. We can pick up some extra stuff at the store.”

Logan nods, draping an arm over the couch. His gaze lingers on you a moment, like he wants to say more but isn’t sure how. Then he just nods again, quietly content.

You manage a small smile, folding another shirt. “Guess we’re doin’ normal pretty well these days, huh?”

“Could get used to it,” he murmurs, voice low.

Your eyes meet for just a second, something unspoken passing between you. Then you clear your throat, toss the shirt aside, and stand up. “Well, if we’re grilling, we might need marinade, and we’re nearly out of vegetables. Let’s go before the midday rush.”

Logan pushes himself up. “You want me to drive?”

You think it over, shrug, and toss him the keys. “Sure. Just… try not to side-swipe every car you pass.”

He catches the keys effortlessly, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“Says the guy who nearly took out a stop sign last week,” you retort, but there’s a teasing note in your voice.

He shakes his head, slipping on his boots. “You done with that laundry?”

“For now. Let’s leave it for Laura.”

Logan smirks. “Smart.”

---

Back from the store, groceries in tow, you find Laura sprawled on the couch, a book open on her lap. She looks up when you and Logan enter, arms loaded with bags.

“You got the stuff for the grill?” she asks, nose wrinkling. “Because all I see is lettuce.”

You frown, glancing down at your bags. “There’s more than lettuce, muñeca. Where’s the gratitude?”

She shrugs, turning a page. “Thanks, Mom.”

Logan sets his own bags on the counter with a grunt. “Everything else is in here, including that weird juice you like.”

Laura closes her book, swinging her legs off the couch. “You found it?”

He nods. “Took me five minutes to track it down, but yeah.”

A genuine smile creeps onto Laura’s face—rare, but it’s there. “Cool. Thanks.”

You give Logan a light nudge with your elbow, meeting his gaze and mouthing a silent “good job.” He just smirks, busies himself with unloading the groceries. For a fleeting moment, the three of you fill the small kitchen in quiet coordination—hands passing off produce, storing items in the pantry, the rustle of plastic bags and shuffle of feet the only sounds.

Eventually, Laura heads back to the couch, flipping open her textbook once more. You and Logan exchange a small, knowing look. No big conversation necessary—just an unspoken acknowledgment that this is how life is now: mostly ordinary, sometimes chaotic, but it works.

---

The storm rolls in fast, the Florida heat giving way to thick clouds and distant thunder. The air is dense with the smell of rain, the first few drops tapping against the windows as you toss a towel over the back of a chair.

“You get the towels inside?” you ask, glancing at Logan, who’s standing near the back door, watching the sky darken.

He grunts. “Got most of ‘em before the wind picked up. One got away.”

You arch a brow. “Got away?”

“Flew into the ocean.”

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “So much for that one.”

Outside, the wind picks up, bending the palm trees as the rain comes in steady now, streaking against the glass. Logan watches it for a moment longer before turning back to you. “Laura still at her friend’s?”

You nod, checking your phone. “She texted a little while ago. Said she’ll head back once the rain dies down.”

Logan doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s already debating whether or not to go pick her up himself. You shoot him a look before he can suggest it. “She’s fine.”

Logan rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, he moves toward the fridge, pulling out a beer. “You eaten yet?”

You smirk. “That your way of asking if I’m making dinner?”

He cracks the bottle open, leaning against the counter. “Just curious.”

You shake your head, pulling open a cabinet. “We got leftovers from last night, or you can figure it out yourself.”

Logan takes a swig, watching you for a beat. “You really gonna make me fend for myself?”

“You’re a grown man, Logan.” You grab a bag of chips, plopping onto the couch. “Figure it out.”

Logan makes a low noise in his throat—something between a scoff and a chuckle—but he doesn’t move right away. He just watches you, something unreadable in his expression. You pretend not to notice, flicking on the TV, scrolling through the channels.

The storm grows louder outside, wind rattling against the house. Logan finally moves, taking his beer with him as he drops onto the couch beside you. The cushions dip under his weight, the space between you smaller than it was a moment ago.

For a while, neither of you speak. The TV flickers with whatever show you landed on, voices blending with the steady hum of rain. It’s comfortable, easy—until you realize Logan isn’t really watching.

You glance at him. “You good?”

Logan exhales through his nose, gaze still on the screen but unfocused. “Yeah.”

You tilt your head slightly. “Liar.”

He smirks, finally looking at you. “You always call me out on my shit?”

“Only when it’s obvious.”

His smirk lingers for half a second before fading. He takes another drink, resting the bottle against his thigh. “Just been thinkin’.”

You hum, reaching for another chip. “That’s dangerous.”

Logan snorts, shaking his head. “Smartass.”

You grin, but the amusement doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Because you know whatever’s on his mind, it’s not light. Not casual. Logan doesn’t bring things up unless they’re already weighing him down.

You shift, turning to face him properly. “What’s up?”

Logan runs a hand through his hair, exhaling. “This—” He gestures vaguely between the two of you. “It’s been… good.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Okay…”

His jaw tightens slightly, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “I ain’t used to it.”

You hesitate, fingers curling slightly against your leg. “Used to what?”

Logan glances at you, then looks away. “Not havin’ to fight.”

The words sit heavy between you. The wind howls outside, the rain beating against the roof in steady waves.

You let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Logan’s fingers flex around his beer bottle. “Feels like any second now, it’s gonna get ripped out from under us.”

You study him, your stomach twisting at the quiet honesty in his voice. Logan isn’t afraid of a fight. But this? The lack of a fight? That’s unfamiliar territory.

You lean back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “If it does, we’ll deal with it.”

Logan huffs. “That easy, huh?”

“No,” you admit. “But I’m too tired to do anything else.”

He’s quiet for a beat, then, voice lower—“Tired of me?”

Your chest tightens. You turn your head, meeting his gaze. There’s no teasing in it, no smirk. Just something raw, something cautious. Like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’ll say next.

You shift closer without thinking. “No, Logan,” you say softly. “Not you.”

His eyes flicker—something unreadable passing through them. His hand twitches slightly, like he’s debating reaching for you but stops himself.

You study him for a second longer before deciding you’re done waiting.

You grab his collar and pull him into a kiss.

It’s not soft. Not hesitant. It’s rough, heated—like you’re trying to prove a point neither of you have the words for. Logan exhales sharply through his nose, startled but not resisting. His fingers find your waist, grip firm, steady.

You tilt your head, deepening it, nails curling against his shirt. Logan makes a low noise in his throat—a sound you feel more than hear.

The beer bottle hits the floor with a dull thud, forgotten.

He pulls you onto his lap, hands splayed against your back. The kiss turns almost desperate, years of tension unraveling all at once.

You break away just enough to catch your breath, forehead resting against his. His breathing is uneven, his grip still firm like he’s afraid you’ll pull away completely.

“Thought you were tired,” he mutters, voice rough.

You smirk, brushing your thumb over his jaw. “Of everything but this.”

His fingers flex against your waist. “You sure?”

You tilt his chin up slightly, making sure he’s looking at you when you answer. “Yeah, Logan. I’m sure.”

Something shifts in his expression—something quiet, something settled.

Then he kisses you again, and this time, neither of you hold back.

---

The storm had passed by the time you stirred awake, the humid Florida air creeping in through the open window, mixing with the scent of salt and something undeniably Logan.

You weren’t the type to linger in bed—never had been—but this morning was different. You could feel the warmth of him beside you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the weight of his arm draped loosely around your waist.

Your muscles ached—not in a bad way, but in the kind of way that made you very aware of what had happened last night.

You exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling.

No regrets.

But a whole lot of what now?

You shifted slightly, and Logan’s grip tightened just enough to keep you from moving too far. “Where d’you think you’re goin’?”

His voice was thick with sleep, rougher than usual.

You smirked. “Didn’t think you were awake.”

Logan huffed against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. “Been awake. Just didn’t wanna move.”

You turned your head slightly, catching the lazy half-smirk tugging at his lips. “Didn’t peg you for the cuddling type.”

Logan grunted. “Ain’t cuddlin’. Just keepin’ you in place.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t try to move again. “Right.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound the distant crash of waves outside. Logan’s fingers traced absentminded patterns against your hip, his other arm still tucked beneath his head.

For a moment, it almost felt normal. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to ignore the inevitable.

Then Logan spoke.

“Not gonna lie,” he muttered. “Didn’t think this would happen.”

You arched a brow. “You doubting your own charm?”

He smirked, but there was something quieter beneath it. “Just figured you’d keep runnin’ circles around me first.”

You exhaled through your nose, dragging a hand down your face. “Jesus. I should’ve just left in the middle of the night and really kept you on your toes.”

Logan’s grip tightened slightly. “You wouldn’t.”

You didn’t answer right away. Because he was right.

Logan let out a slow breath, his thumb brushing against your side. “So what now?”

You thought about it. About the last few months, about the way you and Laura had built something here. About the way Logan had been circling your life since the moment he showed up, waiting, watching, never pushing—until last night.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Logan was quiet for a second, then, “good.”

You smirked. “That easy, huh?”

He huffed. “For once.”

The weight between you didn’t feel as heavy anymore. You weren’t thinking about the past, about the other Logans, about the lives you’d lost before. For once, you weren’t overthinking.

You glanced down at your left hand, the ring still on your finger. You twisted it around, feeling the weight of it—the warmth that had long since faded, but never really left.

Logan didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Just watched, his jaw tight, his fingers flexing slightly against your hip like he wasn’t sure if he should reach for you or give you space.

You exhaled slowly. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you pulled the ring off.

The absence of it was immediate. Like a phantom limb, like something missing that had been part of you for longer than you could remember.

You held it between your fingers, staring at the small, worn band. The gold was a little dull, edges softened from years of wear, of fights, of moments that felt so distant now you weren’t sure if they were even real.

Logan stayed silent, watching.

You swallowed hard, bringing the ring up to your lips, pressing a kiss to the cool metal. A quiet farewell. A promise that none of it had been lost, that it still mattered.

Then, carefully, you set it down on the nightstand.

Logan exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly beside you. “You sure?”

You looked at him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—God, his eyes. Like he was bracing himself, waiting for you to regret it, waiting for you to pick it back up, waiting for you to tell him this was a mistake.

But it wasn’t.

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. His palm was rough, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

“I’m sure,” you murmured.

Logan studied you for a long moment, like he was trying to decide if you meant it. Then, after a beat, his shoulders relaxed, just slightly. He turned his hand, squeezing yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

Neither of you said anything after that.

Because for the first time in years, there was nothing left to say.

so i don't know if people caught it, but i thought i would just say it-the whole arc of logan was the fact that he always left his version of reader but this time he stayed. which is the reason he stayed in florida even when reader didn't want him there. i don't know if i made it obvious or not but i thought i would just put it out there

anyways, i hope this lived up to people's expectations :)

[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.7): the cut - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

part 6- part 7 - part 8

unlike common belief, the four never hated the pogues. well not all of them at least, only if they had a reason to. people just assumed they hated pogues because people assumed they were the asshole type of kook, and sure they weren’t the type to always have their nice face on, but they weren’t mean; not with intention. they knew not to make enemies unless they had a reason to.

so even if people called it “weird” when sarah started talking to john b, none of them really minded.

the next day;

rafe pulls up outside your house, headlights cutting through the dim evening glow. you climb into the backseat, kicking your feet up onto the console as sarah turns around in the passenger seat, already smirking.

“you took forever.”

“cry about it,” you shoot back.

rafe doesn’t react like usual. just exhales through his nose, tapping his fingers against the wheel before reversing out of the driveway. the ride to the cut is mostly sarah filling the silence, rambling about john b’s latest scheme. you half-listen, half-watch rafe through the mirror. he’s not brooding exactly, just off.

by the time you pull up, the pogues are already there. john b’s messing with something on the hms pogue, kiara, cleo and pope sit on the dock talking, and jj—jj is the first to notice you. he tips his beer slightly, a slow grin creeping onto his face.

“well, look what the tide dragged in,” he drawls, eyes flicking between the three of you before landing on you.

you nod your head as an acknowledgement,

“yn” you say simply, stepping onto the dock.

jj cocks his eyebrow in confusion. "yn? thought it was roni."

you chuckle, "looks like someone did their research," looking at him.

jj smirks, "couldn't help my self," shrugging. "you drink?” he asks, handing you a open bottle.

you take the beer he hands you without breaking eye contact. “obviously.”

jj lets out a low whistle, clearly entertained. “alright then. let’s see if you can keep up.”

at first, you aren’t sure how the night will go, but somehow, you keep finding yourself next to jj. it’s not intentional—at least, not at first—but it just works. he’s sarcastic, reckless, always running his mouth, and somehow, it’s like talking to a male version of yourself.

at one point, jj leans in, grinning. “you’re actually kinda perfect.”

you raise an eyebrow. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he nods. “like, if i wasn’t me, i’d be you. which is honestly kinda terrifying.”

you smirk, taking a sip of your drink. “so what i’m hearing is—you’re obsessed with me.”

jj laughs, shaking his head. “might be.” then, like it’s the most casual thing in the world, he hands you his phone. “here. before i forget.”

you take it, glancing at the screen. he already has a new contact pulled up.

“oh, so you just assume i want your number?”

jj smirks. “you don’t?”

you roll your eyes but type it in anyway, handing the phone back. he glances at the screen, then back at you. “snap too?”

“god, you’re relentless,” you mutter, grabbing the phone again.

meanwhile, rafe lingers on the outskirts of the group. he’s there, but not really. drinking, laughing when necessary, but never fully sinking in. you notice. you clock the way he stands apart, how he never fully relaxes. but you don’t press it.

not yet.

later, after everything has settled, you get a noitification from being added to a group chat full of unknown numbers except jj and sarah. assuming its the members of today, you send a text.

you toss your phone onto the bed, something unsettled lingering in your chest. your mind kept jumping back to rafe's words, 'not used to hanging out with other people.'

the fuck was that supposed to mean?

tags under the cut!!

tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid @my-name-is-baby @lolasangelz @polli05927 @laniirackssss @rafecamerobswifeyy

[winterxisxcomingx]

Imagine Catra coming to visit Glimmer everyday. At first, only one time a day - just because she had to, because that’s what Prime wanted.

But then, one time, when she was talking with prisoner, Glimmer’s expression changed. Her lips were slightly parted and Catra could swear that she saw sparkles in her eyes. What wouldn’t be that weird, because of what she read about the princess in documents about her, but it wasn’t that kind of sparkle. Just...

“You are smiling” Glimmer spoken and Catra raised her hand to her lips. She really was. She was smiling at some stupid joke that Glimmer said. But no, if she was being honest, it wasn’t exactly a joke as it was. But, talking with her, feeling some kind of freedom she has never felt before. That short visits let her relax for a moment. Her facial muscles began to relax and bring her natural, real, little smile. 

“That’s a one, pretty smile. Well, for a Horde’s scum, that is” and Glimmer sent her a wink and Catra felt something. Something in her heart and then that sudden pain in her head. It was only for a moment, but it was there. For a moment, she felt so weird. Something like this never had happened before. It was as if.. as if she for a moment lost connection to Lorde Prime. 

“What the fuck” she mumbled and when her eyes finally refocused, she realized that Glimmer’s expression changed again. And not just expression. She came closer to her, to the barrier, and was looking straight into her eyes. 

Catra didn’t know what to do with that, so she did what she knows best. Being cocky.

“What. See something that you like, princess?” Urge to let her hand land on her hip was huge. But she was still. She couldn’t move too much, “her brothers” wouldn’t like that and she doesn’t need new problems with Prime. 

“Yes. Frankly, yes there is.” She slowly raised her hand as if she was trying to touch Catra’s face. Which was, unfortunately, impossible through the barrier. Wait, “unfortunately”!? The fuck is wrong with me today. Catra took a step back.

“W-what?” Yes, very smug of her, but she wasn’t exactly familiar with physical touch. Not the nice one, at least.

“Just. Just, your eyes. For a moment, they were heterochromatic. One, yellow as sun on the Earth. And the other blue as sky. They reminded me of the Earth. It was nice.” Her smile was a little shy and Glimmer wasn’t sure why she said it, but she did, so she wasn’t going to run from it now.

Or maybe she will.

“Mhm, anyway, I’m going to nap. So. Yeah, that was nice. Interesting. Yeah. Bye, Horde Scum” and she went to lie down on her bed in prison, and after a moment Catra could only see her back.

This time, two things happened.

First, she was blushing. Her face and ears were warm, Catra could feel it.

And second, for a moment, she lost connection with Lord Prime again.

Something was happening to her.

And it was because Glimmer. Their new prisoner.

Maybe the idea of babysitting her wasn’t that stupid after all. 

Read a fanfic where Catra was taken in by Horde Prime at young age and now I love this au. Just imagine one day Catra walks into Glimmers cell and for the first time Catra's eye colour is revealed for even just a split second but it what makes Glimmer realize being in the Horde was never a choice for the soldiers raised there

[nakylvr]

MISSED YOU (FINAL)

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary: dealing with the repercussions of your actions, you try your absolute best to fix everything.

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort(?), happy ending (yay!), dealer!dani au, language

wc: 3,5 k

part 1 | part 2

you woke up to knocking on the door. lifting your head from the bed, you immediately felt your head pounding with a headache, making you groan quietly as you got up and left the bedroom. walking to the front door, you peer through the peephole and let out a sigh of relief to see manon.

you unlock and open the door, being met with the taller woman who was holding a convenience store bag in her hand. 

“did you sleep?” manon questions, taking notice of the dark bags under your eyes mixed with the tear stain marks on your cheeks.

“a little.” you shrug, opening the door wider and walking further inside. 

“better than nothing,” manon replies, walking in and shutting the door behind her. she follows you to the living room, setting the bag down on the coffee table as you sit on the couch and curl up into a ball in the corner. “here,” she rummages through the bag before pulling out two cans. “i didn't know if you'd want the redbull or the coffee, so.” she holds both of them in front of you. 

“thanks,” you mumble, taking the energy drink from her hand and opening it. 

a silence fills the apartment again, one that lasts a while before you finally manage to speak up. 

“i don't know how to fix this,” you say quietly, making manon look over at you. “i doubt she wants to see me right now, or ever again.” you look down at the drink in your hand, finger spinning around the rim of the can. “i should’ve listened to her, then none of this would've happened.” 

“it's okay,” manon says. “i mean, it's not, obviously, but it’ll be fine. you can't say that she probably doesn't want to see you, because we both know that she always wants to see you. whenever you're not around you are literally the only thing she talks about, and with what you told me about your last conversation, she probably thinks sophia forced you to do it – which she did, so i don't think she's mad at you exactly. if she is, i’d be surprised.” she pauses for a moment. “you have to just do it. get her out, and then you can talk it out. you can figure the rest out as you go.” 

“yeah,” you murmur, still looking at the can in your hands. 

“yn,” manon grabs one of your hands making you finally look at her. “i’ve known dani for years, she isn't going to be mad at you. when i say you are the only person she talks about, i mean literally you are the only person she cares about. i’ve seen her go through girls so fast that when she started talking about you i felt bad. i thought ‘well, there's another poor girl to add to her list’. but she said you were different. so i tried to believe her. now, i’m going to be honest with you here, okay? because i love and care about both of you very much, and i want you two to fix this, okay?” she stops, waiting for you to nod before continuing. “dani has said multiple times to multiple girls that they're different. so when she said it about you my first reaction was how you were going to get hurt. but things started changing, dani started changing. and that has never happened. you know dani is a pretty independent person, and what she does has her that way because of shit that's happened in the past, but to see her changing – changing for the better? i knew she was right about you.”

“not one other girl has even been able to remotely change one thing about dani,” manon continues. “she always kept them at a distance, she never let them get too close. and the day she told me she took you with her to one of the deals? something that she never let anyone do? i knew she seriously loved you. when she said that you insisted on going with her, she told me that she hesitated. but not for the same reason it usually was. she wanted to protect you. she always wants to protect you, yn. but she lets you come with. she trusts you with the money. she trusts you with certain clients. she trusts you. she loves you. no one else. i don't know why she did what she did, but i know she regrets it. you are the best thing that's ever happened to her, and i don't want this to fuck it up for you two. i can't tell you what to do, but i will support whatever decision you make, okay?” 

listening to everything manon said, you slowly nod your head while taking in all of it. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you could feel them threatening to spill, with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to keep it from trembling. “i ju-st want to fix this,” your voice cracks as you speak. “i love her so much.”

“i know you do,” manon is quick to reply, scooting closer to you and wrapping her arms around your shaking frame. “and i know she loves you just as much. you just have to tell her. you have to talk this out, and you have to tell her about what happened last night.” 

you physically tense up at her last words, the memories of the night before flooding your mind as you put your hands into fists to keep them from shaking so much. “i can't– she’ll really hate me then,” you reply, shaking your head. 

“you have to, yn,” manon tells you. “i know you don't want to, but you have to.” 

a few tears fall from your eyes, but you slowly nod your head, knowing it was the truth. it could make matters worse or it could improve them, but you had no idea how to even go about it. “can you– can you come with me to the sheriff's station? i already have the bail money in a bag, i-i just don't want to go alone right now,” you speak quietly, more tears trailing down your cheeks. 

“of course,” manon replies with a nod. “has sophia tried reaching you?” 

“there was texts and calls for the first couple of hours, but i think she gave up,” you answer with a shrug. “i read a few of them…” your voice goes quiet again.

“bad?” manon questions, judging by the tone in your voice when you said it.

“yeah.” you nod. 

“ignore them,” manon tells you sternly. “you don't need to be seeing her lash out on you because of something terrible she did. you didn't do anything wrong, okay? you don't deserve any of what's happened to you in these months, and it's not your fault for going to the person you thought would keep you safe. but this means you have to fix things with dani. if all else fails, then you can stay with me for some time, okay? you’ll always have a place to stay with me.” she rubs your back reassuringly.

“okay,” you mumble, nodding again. “thank you again, i owe you for this.”

“no you don't.” manon shakes her head. “you're one of my best friends, i’d do anything to make sure you're okay.” she then pulls away from you, grabbing the can from you and setting it on the coffee table. “when does the sheriff's station open?”

“nine, i think,” you answer. 

“we’ll go right when it opens, then,” she says. “get it done as fast as possible so that she doesn't have to stay in there too long. then you can talk things out. i’m sure you'll already be on her good side just by bailing her out after what you said when she was arrested, so you have a good starting point. get her something to eat, get some drinks, and talk it out here in the home you two have made. it’ll all be okay. i promise.” 

“okay.” 

…

one week later you were standing outside the jail, biting your nails with your foot tapping on the ground anxiously. thankfully, you had enough to cover the bail and have a little leftover, which was a relief knowing it didn’t take everything in the safe. you had yet to even speak to daniela, despite manon telling you to at least try and see if she would talk to you. you didn’t want to hear yelling over the phone, you’d rather hear it in person where you could explain everything easier than if you were arguing over the phone line that would cut after five minutes. manon told you over and over again that she wouldn’t be mad at you, but the nervous feeling was still rooted deep inside you as you heard the loud buzzing and the gate slowly opening. 

looking up from the ground, you spot daniela walking with her bag of things. her eyes subtly widen a bit from what you can see, since they didn’t exactly tell her who bailed her out, just that she was able to leave. 

she slowly steps over to you, stopping in front of you and looking at you without saying anything. 

“hey,” you say quietly. “i’m really sor–”

you’re cut off from your apology by daniela kissing you. your eyes go wide for a second, but when her arms wrap around your waist you find yourself melting into the kiss, practically feeling all the emotions she was pouring out into it. 

when she pulls away, you’re both a little breathless, quiet panting coming from you two. 

“do you wanna get something to eat and head home?” you ask softly. “i’d rather talk at home.” 

“yeah, we’ll talk at home,” daniela responds in the same voice.

“okay.” you nod. 

…

by the time you two arrived at the apartment, it was already leading into the evening, the sunset coming down just as you opened the door and walked inside with bags of food and drinks in your hands. 

walking behind you into the apartment, the first thing dani notices is how clean it is. she figured it’d be destroyed when they came to get her, only feeling worse when she realized it had to have been you that cleaned up the place. she follows you silently, setting the food down on the dining room table and going to sit on the couch next to you. 

there’s a silence that fills the room. one that was far from comfortable. both of you sitting there not knowing what to say first, or to say anything at all. until you speak. 

“i’m really sorry,” your voice is barely able to be heard as you fiddle with your hands. “i-i didn’t think– i didn’t mean for it to go down that way, i-”

“don’t apologize,” daniela cuts you off, shaking her head. “there’s no reason for you to be apologizing. i deserved it.” she goes quiet for a moment before continuing. “i’m really, really sorry. i shouldn’t have done what i did, and i know i fucked up. i’m not sure why i did it, but i regret it so much. i don’t know why you bailed me out, i thought the last time was really going to be the last time. but…i’m glad you did. i just want to talk it out.” 

“i know, and that’s why i bailed you out,” you start. “listen, dani. i went to sophia to figure out what to do, and…it wasn’t a smart idea. i know you two already don’t like each other, but this could really make things worse for everyone. i– she convinced me to call the police even though i didn’t want to. i felt so bad once i saw how upset you were. i knew you knew you fucked up and was trying to do anything to make me stay a-and i ignored it. i-i thought it would make things easier but it made everything so m-much worse. everything just t-turned into a shit show a-and i didn’t know what to d-do.” you began stuttering over your words as a few tears fell from your eyes. 

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” daniela is quick to wrap her arms around you and pull your head against her chest. “it’s okay, okay? i’m not mad at you for what you did. i deserved it. so please don’t beat yourself up over what you did, baby. i’m not upset at you.” she presses a gentle kiss on your head. 

“there-there’s something else i h-have to tell you,” you manage to get out, your anxiety growing and your breathing getting heavier. “please don’t get mad when i tell you th-this.” 

“nothing will make me mad, i promise,” dani responds. “what happened?”

clutching onto her shirt, your face is still pressing against her chest as you try to find the words to explain it. “i-i went to sophia’s after. y-you know she’s always had feelings f-for me, so i-i…i fucked up, dani.” you start fully sobbing into her chest at this point, which has her arms tightening around you both from you crying and what she was thinking you were going to say next. “i-i let her have her w-way with m-me b-b-but i hated it. it was t-terrible. sh-she didn’t care that i w-was uncomfortable, she di-didn’t stop even when i w-was crying. all i c-could think about was how y-you would never do that. i-it didn’t feel the same. sh-she didn’t care, she continued a-and i felt so bad after th-that i left immediately. i’m so sorry.” 

once you finished your words through sobs, daniela pulled you closer to her onto her lap, her arms tight around you as you cried. there were hundreds of thoughts running through her head, but they were far from being mad at you. she wasn’t mad at you. she was livid at sophia. “it’s okay,” she tells you over and over. “i’m not mad at you, i swear. i’m not mad.” hearing your cries continue made daniela wonder just how much sophia put you through when she wasn’t around, and thinking it made her jaw clench, anger bubbling inside of her. “baby, look at me,” she says softly. 

you slowly lift your head to look down at her, your eyes red and puffy with a few sniffles coming from you now and then. 

“i’m not upset, okay?” she says, running her hand through your hair. “i understand, i do. which is why i’m not angry at you. i’m angry at sophia, okay? she should’ve known better than to try and do that, let alone continue when you were crying. you haven’t seen her since, have you?”

you immediately shake your head quickly. “no, no, i haven’t. she tried texting and calling but i just ignored them.” 

“good.” daniela nods. “that means it’ll be a fun surprise for her when i show up at her front door.” 

the way she says that has your eyebrows furrowed together. “what do you mean?”

“don’t worry about it, mi amor,” she says, pecking your lips. “let’s just say she won’t be a problem anymore.” 

“as long as you don’t get arrested again, you can do what you want,” you tell her, hooking your arms around her neck. 

“i won’t, i promise.” she smiles at you. “are we okay?” she asks after a moment. 

it takes a minute for you to respond, but you nod your head in the end. “yeah, we’re okay.” 

“i love you,” daniela says, looking you in the eye. 

“i love you too,” you reply, leaning in and kissing her. 

…

it was late into the night when daniela got up. but not for the same reason it had been the past few months. was she going to see someone? technically. was it sophia? yes. was she going to beat the living shit out of her? probably. 

the latina carefully got out of the bed, unwrapping your arms around her and looking at the time on the digital clock. late enough. you shift around feeling her presence leave the bed, and you open your eyes to see her putting on a hoodie and her shoes. 

“where are you going?” you mumble tiredly. 

dani turns when she hears your voice, leaning down and pushing some of your hair out of your face. “i’m heading to sophia’s with manon and minji. don’t worry, i’ll text you once i’m there and when i’m on my way back.” she presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “i’ll bring you back something to eat if you’re awake when i’m leaving.” 

you nod your head, murmuring out a quiet “okay”. this is what you missed. if you were too tired to go out to deals with her, she would always say this. that she’d text you when she was there, and that she would text you when she was leaving that everything was okay, even then she would send more messages than necessary. but, you didn’t mind it. she knew you often got worried when it came to certain clients, and she always reassured you when she would go alone. it hadn’t been like this in months. for the past few months you’ve woken up to her already gone, not bothering to tell you where she was going. for the first time through this hell that’s been these last few months, it was starting to feel normal again. 

“be safe, please,” you say quietly. 

“always,” she replies, kissing your head again. 

walking out of the apartment, manon and minji were already waiting outside in front of minji’s car. the two turn when they hear footsteps coming towards them to see daniela walking towards them. 

“is it bad to say i’m surprised you showed?” daniela says, stopping in front of the car. 

“not really,” manon shakes her head. 

“thanks, anyways then,” daniela looks between the two. “are you both sure you want to do this?” 

“obviously,” manon says. 

“i’ve never liked her anyways,” minji adds, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“alright,” daniela nods. “let’s go then.” 

…

it was three in the morning when you heard the front door open. you were partially awake after daniela told you where she was going, glancing at your phone occasionally when it would light up. it had been thirty minutes since dani told you she was on her way back. just when you were getting worried you heard the creaking of the front door opening, and the jingling of keys. you sit up on the bed a little bit when daniela walks into the bedroom with a bag of food and drinks in her hands. 

“hey.” she smiles at you. “i got you some food and a milkshake from sonic. i’m sure you’re tired of it by now but it’s like, the only place open at this hour.”

“i don’t mind.” you shake your head. “thank you.” 

“it’s no problem,” she says, sitting down next to you on the bed. “here.” she hands you one of the drinks and takes the food out. 

sitting in silence while eating, you had a warm feeling radiating through your body. the type you hadn’t felt in months while everything was going on. the silence wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t tense. it was comfortable. it was normal, like it used to be. 

“i really missed this,” you say randomly in a quiet voice. “i missed you.” 

daniela looks over at you when you speak, seeing the small smile on your face that subconsciously makes a smile grow on her own face. “i missed this– i missed you, too,” she replies in the same voice. 

when you look over at her, you can barely make out her face with the lamp on your nightstand, but staring into her eyes, you know she’s genuine about it. “promise me we won’t do this again,” you tell her. 

“i promise,” she replies in a heartbeat. “you know why?” 

“why?” you encourage her, curious as to what she’ll say. 

“because i’m gonna marry you one day.” 

your breath hitches in your throat at her words. in the two years you’ve been together, she’s never mentioned anything of the sorts revolving marriage or that kind of commitment. and after what manon told you, you weren’t sure she would ever even consider the thought. to say you were surprised would be an understatement. 

“really?” your voice comes out in a whisper, as if you were doubting her words. 

“really.” daniela nods. “i don’t want to be with anyone except you. i don’t want you to be with anyone except me. i know i fucked up right now, but i swear in the future i’ll give you the newlywed life you want. i swear.” 

tears build in your eyes without your knowledge, so focused on her words that you didn’t even notice a few falling until dani’s hand reaches towards you and wipes them away with her thumb, her hand cupping your face. “you can’t go back on me now, y’know,” you say in a hushed voice. “you better stay.” 

“i will,” she responds. “i will, i promise. i don’t want anyone else. i just want you.” 

“then you’ll show me?” you say, your voice changing into a tone daniela was far too familiar with.

“oh, i’ll show you.” she leans in and kisses you.