#alright I’m posting it before I start hating it

[finleycannotdraw]

the higher the mountain the harder the fall / save me the last word

(yes I made a playlist for them too)

I promise I have some fluff in the works but I needed to refresh my Drawing Them skills before I did anything more cartoony, and well… it ended up angsty. whoops.

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[gb-patch]

GB Patch Games: Sensitivity Reader Update

Okay, well I am able to make another statement before Rose does. I can now explain much more easily why I didn’t fire Rose. There’s been new developments with the leakers. The people behind this have doxed Rose’s discord account (please don’t go looking for it) and also shared a screenshot of an email that was sent to my support address months ago. They believe that incriminates us somehow, but really all it’s done is shown in broad daylight what they were doing and why I was defending Rose so much. If I had brought up that email as a connection to this myself people understandably would’ve thought I was making a conspiracy.

However, it is out now. Here is the story- a few months ago someone who wanted to remain anonymous sent me an email with a screenshot where Rose called me a cracker. And I told them I appreciated the concern but it’s alright, was there evidence of Rose being unkind to players? They had nothing. No response.

As an aside, yes, I have been aware for a long time that Rose uses crude language when talking about me. That doesn’t mean I’ve hidden how evil they were from players. It means I’m allowed to choose what I’m comfortable with. That original “reveal” didn’t shock or upset me in any way. Our Life is a sensitive, wholesome game, but I’m a full-grown adult. I’m not innocent or pure. The game I released before OL is XOXO Blood Droplets. Something I wrote and released to the public is full of crude jokes, curse words, and violence. It’s cartoonish and comical, but edgy. Rose themselves likes to BS with bad words and I’m not accepting abuse because I think getting called a pussy is funny. I know Rose doesn’t hate me or wish me any harm. Rose also isn’t causing “discourse” for me and my games on purpose, they were joking that bringing up serious topics is “discourse” to some people. Ironically, the leakers who did this are trying to make some “discourse” on purpose.

Regardless, I initially thought that email was from someone earnestly worried for me and that they moved on when it was clear I was fine. But that’s not what happened. Them and at least one other person have been waiting for months to bring this up again. They went through almost a year’s worth of Rose’s private posts to collect as many unflattering screenshots as they could, and then they didn’t send them to me. They posted them publicly. I had a suspicion from the get go that it was the same person/people from before who couldn’t prove anything to me in private. And if true, how horrible is it that a bunch of the comments they shared were crude language towards me, something they already knew I’d brush off as nothing. They decided for me that it was wrong and they wanted the rest of the players to do the same. Or even less charitably, those extra posts were simply there to make Rose look as bad and untrustworthy as possible and they didn’t care that I was comfortable with it. I could not explain everything we were thinking/feeling at first, but behind the scenes we were discussing how this was personally motivated and not a knee-jerk act without forethought. And we do know for certain at least the main people involved now, and they do have personal issues with Rose.

Also, if you still believe that they just wanted to help the game at any length because Rose is that huge of a risk, showing that email and framing something innocuous about me (not fainting at the word “cracker” and politely being open to more proof) as serious “evidence of wrongdoing” at GB Patch Games makes me believe they want to smear Rose so bad they’ll try to turn players against me as well. Plus, the post is framed as “this email was anonymously sent to me”, but we know from account details that the people who could’ve gotten those screenshots of the discord and email are the same people who sent that email and started this situation, which is embarrassing. I’ve confirmed the screenshots shared in the email to me and the original public post came from the same private, “venting-safe” discord server. There’s very few people in there. We know it’s still you and not a separate source. I can’t prove they think I’m stupid or in their way, but I can’t see how anything they’re doing is trying to be beneficial to the creation of OL: NF. They told me in the email they’d give me more evidence if I requested it and I was ready to know, but instead they went silent for months and then did this.

I want it to be clear that this doesn’t mean players can’t wonder if Rose has enough experience to be a sensitivity reader right now, or to worry they’re so invested in the game that it’s going to effect how objective they are with their feedback, or to say that Rose is flawless and has never done anything hurtful. However, I hope you can understand why I was on Rose’s side and couldn’t just fire them over this. It felt so incredibly unfair. If another person tries to get their way by doing this in the future, I will not hail them as a hero and immediately fire at the target. And I don't tolerate any racial harassment of any kind to anyone on my team.

If those people want to continue to share Rose’s private posts in retaliation, you can fuck off. If you somehow reveal now that Rose is secretly a murderer, I’m not gonna apologize and say I was so wrong about you. If you had tons of evidence of Rose being horrible to players, you should’ve sent it all to me and with full context to begin with in the email like you offered to do. I just don’t understand.

Any players who like to see someone’s least flattering points portrayed in the worst possible way and continue flocking to the leaks as fandom drama, I don’t want you in this fandom. I don’t want you to enjoy my games.

Anyone who has been truly hurt by this and are left confused and angry, I do completely understand that. I didn’t know how to handle this, and it made a lot of people not know how to keep trusting me. I am still looking into getting a community manager to help me better communicate with players, especially when something serious happens. And I’ll always be around for you to reach out to if you have doubts about anything.

[thebearer]

follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust. 

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust. 

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.” 

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-” 

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.” 

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him. 

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.” 

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.” 

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good. 

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.” 

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.” 

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office. 

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully. 

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-” 

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?” 

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!” 

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant. 

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.” 

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open. 

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least. 

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.” 

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.” 

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned. 

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush. 

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly. 

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-” 

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently. 

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered. 

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted. 

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.” 

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him. 

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded. 

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright. 

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.” 

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert. 

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left. 

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen. 

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed. 

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock. 

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?” 

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered. 

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.” 

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?” 

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.” 

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil. 

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.” 

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven. 

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.” 

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?” 

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment. 

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie. 

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.” 

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.” 

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room. 

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded. 

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.” 

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in. 

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!” 

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please” 

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good. 

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!” 

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him. 

To: Carmen 

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’ 

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!” 

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way. 

So, Carmen did what he always did. 

From: Carmen 

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’ 

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret. 

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!” 

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.” 

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned. 

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance. 

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you. 

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.” 

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.” 

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s. 

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?” 

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?” 

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked. 

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell. 

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way. 

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do. 

“What? Cousin, what are you-” 

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.” 

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned. 

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added. 

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him. 

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her. 

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-” 

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered. 

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.” 

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.” 

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?” 

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen. 

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.” 

[wolverigrl]

Thirst Tweets

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I’ve got a lot going on right now, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to writing. There will definitely be more parts, but not this week. I also have two oneshots saved that might go online this week, so don’t be surprised if you see them.

I'd be happy about some feedback and just a reminder to you, I have my requests open, so feel free sending some of your ideas! :)

Warnings: tiny bit of fluff and some swearing here and there

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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Returning to New York felt like waking up from a beautiful dream I never wanted to end. Sydney had been a paradise - sunshine, the salty breeze from the ocean, and Hugh. God, Hugh. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, behaving like love-drunk teenagers. Whether it was our sunset strolls by the harbor or cozy nights in, wrapped in blankets, we found ourselves growing closer every day. There was something magical about that time - like we were in a world of our own, free from distractions.

Hugh would sometimes visit his family, leaving me to explore Sydney on my own. I’d walk through the city, admiring the sights, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. But no matter where I went, I was always thinking about him. It wasn’t long before I’d be back at his place, sharing stories of my solo adventures while he teased me with that wicked smile.

Of course, the paparazzi had a field day. Every moment seemed to be caught on camera - whether we were laughing together at the beach, wandering the streets hand in hand, or lounging in the park. There were endless photos of us everywhere, but I didn't mind. Honestly, I found it kind of funny how we had become some sort of internet sensation. I had even started posting more pictures of Hugh on my socials - candid shots of him with funny, flirty captions. The fans ate it up, especially when I started liking and commenting on their fan edits of Hugh. They said I was fangirling hard, and maybe I was, but could you blame me? The man is perfect.

The hate we used to get was slowly dying down, too. People were starting to root for us. It felt good.

Today, though, was on a whole new level of fun. We were shooting a "Thirst Tweets" video, and it was as chaotic as you'd imagine. The energy in the studio was electric as we settled into the plush chairs, both of us trying to stifle our giggles before the chaos of "Thirst Tweets" began. I glanced over at Hugh, who looked far too calm for what was about to go down, his long fingers tapping lightly on his knee, his face carrying that familiar smirk that always made my heart race. It was like he knew exactly what was coming and how I’d react.

The first tweet was mine to read. I grabbed the small card from the pile and cleared my throat dramatically. “Okay, here we go…” I scanned the text quickly before bursting into laughter. “Oh my God, okay. ‘I would let y/n punch me in the face just to say I’ve been touched by perfection.’ ” I couldn’t help it - I snorted.

Hugh chuckled beside me, shaking his head. “We’re starting off strong, aren’t we?” he teased.

I leaned over, nudging him with my shoulder. “What can I say? I have violent fans.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Perfection though? Can’t argue with that." he said, giving me a wink that made my face heat up.

It was Hugh’s turn next. He grabbed his card, took a quick glance, and then raised an eyebrow at me. “Alright, here’s a good one. ‘I’d like to officially announce that Hugh’s arms should be declared a public service. Like, those things could end world hunger. Use them for good, sir.’ "

I let out a loud laugh, slapping my knee. “See, this is what I’m saying! They should be protected. Maybe insured.”

He flexed a little - just enough to make me roll my eyes - and grinned. “I’ll take it under consideration.” he joked. The crew behind the camera was already in stitches, but I could tell this was just the beginning.

The next tweet was handed again to Hugh, and he gave it a quick scan before bursting into laughter. "Oh, this one's good. 'Hugh, you can call me baby girl and tell me to sit down, and I would happily obey for the rest of my life.' "

I raised an eyebrow, trying to hold in my laughter. "I mean.. you do have that commanding presence."

He turned to me with a devilish grin, his voice deep and teasing. "You think I should try it out, love? Call you baby girl and see what happens?"

I immediately blushed, my laughter betraying how flustered I was. "Oh no, let's not give the fans more material!"

He chuckled, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Too late, baby."

He took the card with a dramatic flourish, his eyes quickly scanning it before he burst out laughing, almost choking on his words. “Oh no, this one’s for you, love. ‘Y/n really out here fangirling over Hugh like the rest of us. She’s one of us now.’ ”

I groaned, though I couldn’t hide my smile. "Listen, I am not fangirling!" I protested weakly, but Hugh gave me a look that said he didn’t believe a word of it.

"Oh, you totally are!" he teased, nudging me playfully. “You’re in deep.”

I shot back with a grin. “Okay, maybe I’m a little obsessed with you. Can you blame me?”

The crew behind the camera was losing it by now, and I could hear some of them whispering amongst themselves, probably trying to stifle their own laughter. But we were just getting started.

I grabbed another card, still grinning. "Hugh could choke me with his biceps, and I'd die happy."

Hugh started laughing again, clearly enjoying himself. "There's a lot of love for my arms in this, isn't there?"

I looked at him, pretending to be serious. "I mean, have you seen your arms?"

He flexed again, playing it up for the camera. "I guess I have no choice but to deliver." I snorted loudly and leaned against him while laughing and hiding my face behind my right hand.

Hugh took the next tweet, shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, here’s a spicy one. ‘Hugh, please, just throw me against a wall. Like, I’m begging you.’” He read it in such a deadpan tone that I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.

He raised an eyebrow at me as I tried to compose myself. “Well?”

I fanned myself dramatically. “That’s a strong request, but relatable."

Hugh opened his mouth to say something but instead snorted with laughter and shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

I picked up the next card, already giggling before I even read it aloud. " 'Y/n’s laugh could cure my depression, I swear. She could rob a bank and I’d still be like, wow, what a cute laugh!' "

Hugh looked over at me, grinning. “See? You do have a cute laugh.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my cheeks were burning. “I mean, if it works for bank robberies, maybe I should test it out.”

He gave me a look, smirking. “I’m not bailing you out.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to." I replied, laughing. “I’d just charm my way out of it.”

I grabbed the next card from the pile, glancing over at Hugh before reading it aloud. "Y/n, how do I sign up to be your sugar baby? I don't need much - just a little attention and maybe to sleep on Hugh's abs as a pillow."

Hugh let out a loud laugh, his eyes widening. "My abs, huh?" He leaned back, pretending to flex for a moment before winking at the camera. "I didn't realize they had so many applications."

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to hide my grin. "I mean, you have to admit, they're not wrong. Those abs could solve a lot of problems."

He smirked, leaning in closer to me, his voice dropping a bit. "Is that what you think about every time you cuddle me, baby? Using me as your personal pillow?"

I nudged him, trying not to laugh. "What can I say? I'm resourceful."

The next few tweets were just as wild, some downright inappropriate but in a way that had us both cracking up. Hugh read a particularly bold one aloud: " 'Hugh in that leather jacket… sir, I’m on my knees. What do I need to do to get you to ruin my life?' " He paused, glancing over at me with a devilish grin. “What do they need to do?”

I covered my face, laughing into my hands. “Oh God. This is escalating so much!”

He looked at the camera and lowering his voice. “Maybe just say ‘please?’ ”

The crew burst out laughing again, and I could see the camera shaking slightly as the person filming struggled to keep it steady. By this point, even the sound guy was wiping away tears of laughter.

Hugh grabbed the next tweet from the pile, his eyes quickly scanning it before a sly grin spread across his face.

"Okay," he began, in that rich voice that could melt butter, "Here’s a fun one: ‘Hugh Jackman could breathe in my direction, and I’d immediately drop to my knees, ready to serve.’"

I let out an involuntary snort, burying my face in my hands. "Oh my!" I gasped between fits of giggles. "They went straight for it!"

Hugh, trying to maintain composure, turned toward the camera with a half smile. "Well, I appreciate the enthusiasm." he said, and then turned to me. "Is that something I should be adding to my skill set?"

I swatted his arm playfully, still laughing. "Please, let’s not turn this into a live demonstration."

Hugh chuckled and nodded towards the camera. “Fair enough. But hey, I’m flattered."

I grabbed the next tweet, scanning it quickly and feeling my face heat up even more. "Oh, this one’s good. ‘Y/n’s legs are so long, they could wrap around me twice, and I’d happily suffocate.’"

Hugh let out a low whistle, his eyes flicking down to my legs and back up to my face with a teasing grin. "I mean, they’re not wrong." he quipped, making the entire crew laugh again.

I gave him a playful serious look. "Careful, you might encourage more of this behavior."

He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Too late."

I passed the next tweet to him, still trying to suppress my laughter. Hugh's eyebrows shot up when he read it. “Oh, wow, okay. ‘Hugh could literally break me in half, and I’d say thank you.’” He paused, a devilish grin creeping onto his face as he looked up at me. “I’m sensing a theme here.”

The crew behind the camera was howling at this point again, and I could barely breathe through the laughter. "I mean… who wouldn't be thankful?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Hugh laughed, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. "Should I be concerned for you people, or…?”

"Concerned, maybe. Grateful, definitely,” I replied, still giggling.

He handed me the next card, his smirk widening. “Your turn. Let’s see if it gets wilder.”

I took the card and immediately had to press my lips together to keep from bursting out laughing. “Oh God, here we go again… ‘Y/n could ruin my life, and I’d thank her by paying her rent for the rest of the year.’ ”

Hugh’s laugh boomed across the room, his head falling back as he tried to catch his breath. “Well, if you’re ever looking for a side hustle…”

I gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, rent’s expensive in New York. I might just take them up on that."

He wiped away a tear of laughter, still grinning. “You’d definitely have no shortage of offers.”

Another tweet landed in Hugh’s hands, and he gave it a quick read before raising an eyebrow at me. “Oh jeez, we’re diving straight into the deep end now. ‘Hugh Jackman’s voice is so hot, I’d let him read the phone book to me while I climax.’”

My jaw dropped. "NO." I immediately covered my face with my hands, laughing so hard. I would lie, if I'd say my body doesn't hurt of laughter by now.

Hugh, ever the professional, barely flinched. He just gave the camera a deadpan look. “The phone book? Really? That’s a bit outdated, but… hey, I’m here for it.”

I peeked at him from behind my hands, still laughing uncontrollably. “You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?”

He winked at me, his voice dropping an octave. “If that’s what the people want, who am I to deny them?”

I playfully shoved him, still blushing furiously, but loving every second of the ridiculousness. “We need to talk about boundaries later." I joked.

He shot me a grin. “Boundaries? What are those?”

I took a deep breath, composing myself enough to grab the next tweet. The second I read it, I was gone again. “Oh, this one’s golden. ‘Y/n, I will pay you $1,000 to sit on my face. I don’t even need to breathe. Just consider it.’”

Hugh burst out laughing, clutching his chest and wiping tears from his eyes. “A thousand dollars? Only? That’s a bargain!”

I covered my face again, my shoulders shaking with laughter. “This is officially out of control.”

Hugh leaned in closer, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Come on. You’re underselling yourself. You’re worth at least $10,000.”

I laughed so hard I almost fell off my chair. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, babe.”

By this point, the crew behind the cameras was barely keeping it together. The laughter was contagious, and it felt like the entire room was on the verge of tears from how absurd the tweets were getting.

Hugh, still grinning, took the next card, glancing at it before giving me a cheeky look. "Alright, last one for me. ‘Hugh, you could crush me between your thighs, and I’d die a happy person.’”

I dissolved into laughter again, leaning back in my chair. "See, this is what I’ve been saying!" I managed between giggles.

Hugh turned to the camera, looking far too amused. “I’m sensing a lot of… very creative fans.”

I wiped away tears of laughter, still grinning. “Creative is one word for it.”

With that, the video wrapped up, and the crew finally stopped laughing long enough to give us a round of applause. Hugh’s charm and my endless giggling made for the perfect combination, and I could tell this video was going to go viral the second it dropped.

One of the cameramen approached us, grinning. “I’ve been doing this for years, and that was easily the funniest shoot I’ve ever been a part of.”

Hugh smiled, thanking him, while I nodded in agreement. “That was insane!” I said, still feeling the buzz of excitement. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard.”

After the shoot, we headed back to Hugh’s place to get ready for dinner. Ryan and Blake were coming over with their kids and dogs, and Hugh was in charge of cooking, much to his delight. He loved being in the kitchen, and it was one of those little things about him that always made me swoon.

While he started prepping in the kitchen, I disappeared into the bathroom to get ready. I slipped into something simple but nice, touching up my makeup before making my way back to Hugh. He had his back turned, fully focused on whatever he was chopping up, so I tiptoed up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his back.

He jumped, clearly startled, but then relaxed into my embrace. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he chuckled, setting down the knife.

I grinned, squeezing him tighter. "Sorry, couldn’t resist." My hands slid over his chest as I pressed closer. "You look ridiculously good in that shirt, by the way."

He glanced down at himself - just a casual button up and jeans - but it worked for him in a way that made my heart race. “Oh yeah?” he asked, turning his head slightly to look at me with a playful smirk.

“Yeah. Like.. annoyingly good." I teased, letting my fingers linger on the fabric. “Distractingly good. It's kind of a problem.”

He turned fully then, wrapping his arms around my waist, and leaned in close, his voice low. “Maybe we should skip dinner then?"

I bit my lip, laughing softly as I pushed against his chest. "Nice try. We’re not blowing off dinner with Blake and Ryan. You know they’d never let us hear the end of it."

Before we could get any further into our flirt, the doorbell rang, and we both groaned. The Reynolds were right on time, of course.

With one last grin at each other, we reluctantly pulled apart. Hugh grabbed a towel to wipe his hands before we made our way to the door. When we opened it, we were greeted by a whirlwind of chaos - Ryan with the kids and Blake holding onto the dogs. It was loud and warm, the kind of energy that made you feel instantly at home.

Blake gave me a tight hug while Ryan and Hugh exchanged their usual friendly banter. We all gathered in the dining room, Hugh finishing up in the kitchen while Blake and I set the table, chatting and laughing about everything and nothing.

Dinner was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and the occasional bark from the dogs. Hugh caught my eye from across the table more than once, and each time, I couldn’t help but smile. This was our life now - full of love, friends, and shared moments that felt like they could last forever.

And honestly? I wouldn’t change a thing.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1

Next part

[foreingersgod]

End of the Day . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin’s rookie year hasn’t been going as smoothly as she had planned and it’s starting to take a toll on her. at least she has you there for her at the end of every game

WARNING: by no means, because i’m defending caitlin, will i tolerate any sort of racism/sexism on this post or on my page in general. just because we want to support her doesn’t mean we need to say completely unnecessary and racist things about other players. if there is anything of the sort, you will be blocked! this post has nothing to do with ANYONE except caitlin so please remember to be kind and respectful! this fic is meant to be a cute hurt/comfort scenario about struggling as a rookie, please don’t make it into something it’s not :)

every game was agonizing for you to watch. whether you were sat on the couch in front of the TV or sitting somewhere up in the stands, watching caitlin take hit after hit was too much for you to watch. it broke your heart every single time, knowing that with each passing game, it was harder and harder for her to stay optimistic. your sweet and energetic girlfriend now seemed completely wiped out and drained. you heard her meek responses to the press, claiming that it was all “just how basketball was”, but you knew her better than that. you knew it was starting to take a toll on her, caitlin would never call something like this just part of the game.

you often had to close your eyes while watching these games. you hated the way they pushed her around like she was anything less of a player, how she would fall to the ground and squeeze her eyes shut in pain. it made your blood boil to see how much pain she was in. the urge to march down to the court floors and take on these women head on was constantly sitting in the back of your mind. there had been times you had to step outside of the stadium to take a breathe, trying to reassure yourself that cailtin was alright and had it under control.

and she did, she had gotten quite good at keeping a relaxed demeanor despite the physicality on the court. there were times were she would slip up though, letting her temper get the best of her, but she never took it too far and always reminded you that she could handle it. you knew deep down that caitlin only stayed so calm because of you. the last thing she wanted was to upset or worry you, make a big scene that she knew you’d evidently witness. as much as caitlin wanted to scream and argue and fight back, she couldn’t bare the thought of you watching her lose her cool. so she suffered in silence, something she had a habit of, aware of how mad it made you. you wanted nothing more than to comfort her in these times of need, but she was too stubborn to cave in.

it wasn’t until tonight, though, that she had finally reached her breaking point. this last game being the straw that broke the camels back. you hadn’t known what it was, whether it was the flagrant foul or the snide comments made off the court, but it cut caitlin deeper than the rest. unfortunately, you weren’t able to attend this particular game. work ended up being crazy busy and you had to stay longer, cutting into about 30 minutes of game time. you had warned caitlin before the game started, letting her know that you would be watching her from home and that you’d be cheering her on like always.

you don’t think you could get the image out of your head, the moment replaying in your head well after the game had ended. you had settled down on the couch with your ‘22’ t-shirt on and a loose blanket thrown over your lap, watching the game with your jaw clenched. you wanted so badly to stay hopeful tonight, trying to keep a positive mindset. but as the 3rd quarter rolled around, your hopes were quickly diminished. you watched one of the opponents come up behind caitlin, decking her in the shoulder so hard that she was thrown relentlessly to the ground. you cringed in dismay. you sat through the remnants of the game totally gutted for your girlfriend knowing that she’d be beating herself up when she walked through the doors of your home.

once the game had ended, you moseyed your way to the bedroom. after your nightly routine you crawled into bed and pulled out your book, waiting for caitlin’s arrival. you hated when she wasn’t here, the bed colder and lonelier than you’d have liked. it was hard to focus on the words littered across the novels pages as anticipation spread through your body. about 30 minutes had passed when you finally heard the obnoxious screeching of the front doors hinges. a wave of relief washed over you as you listened to familiar foot steps trail throughout the kitchen, eventually padding their way up the stairs.

then she came into view, pushing your bedroom door open quietly. she had assumed you were asleep by now and didn’t want to wake you by being too loud. your head perked up, the book long forgotten somewhere on the sheets as you took in the sight of your girlfriend. she looked burned out, a sad expression chiseled into her features. her hair was messy, cheeks flushed and pale-you assumed had been from crying. she hadn’t noticed you right away, only looking up when you called out her name.

“cait…” you breathed, unsure of what to say. she was clearly bothered, on the verge of tears. normally she’d come home and brush it off, saying that she just needed you and she’d be ok, but tonight was different. she looked inconsolable, standing there at the end of the bed.

“oh, hey baby,” she faked a smile, now dragging her feet to her side of the bed to get changed “you’re up”

“yea,” you offered a smile in return “you know i can’t sleep without you”

the small comment seemed to entice a genuine smile out of her this time, seeing how her lips turned upwards slightly as she pulled a clean tshirt over her head. she joined you in bed, sliding one leg underneath yours to feel the smallest bit of touch from you.

“hey i-uh,” you shook your head. this was a delicate matter that you didn’t know how to approach “i watched the game, cait”

“mhm,” she hummed, now pulling out her phone to mindlessly scroll through social media. possibly to distract her, but seeing the nasty comments about earlier tonight certainly wasn’t going to help.

you weren’t satisfied with her avoidance, deciding to prod further. you couldn’t watch her suffer like this any longer.

“baby,” you said softly, your tone somewhat stern to grab her attention. a gentle hand made its way to her wrist, pushing the phone from her grasp and into her lap “i think we should talk about the elephant in the room”

“i really don’t…” she muttered, her voice shaking “it’s fine, you know me”

“but caitlin, it’s not” you maneuvered around the bed, turning around and pulling your knees to your chest so you could fully face her. she laid her head back on the headboard, tilting her jaw away from you “you always say that, and i know you’re strong and can handle it. but tonight wasn’t ok and i know you know that”

you noticed the way her muscles tensed, preparing for a conversation she wished she would never have to have. you reached over to her, hand resting on her thigh as you rubbed soothingly. she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed deeply to hold back tears. but it was no use, she was already hiccuping as sobs racked her body. you felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest. she hardly cried, and when she did, it was never like this.

“it’s whatever,” she couldn’t bring herself to look at you, beating herself up for even being upset in the first place “that’s just how it is, i’m the rookie and-”

“caitlin, stop” you begged, knowing where this was going. she was trying to brush it off once again. you disregarded her thigh, now moving even closer to her to place a hand on her cheek “that’s not just ‘how it is’, you’re allowed to be upset when you get quite literally shoved to the ground. and you’ve got too much on your plate right now, there’s a lot going on”

“i just-i don’t want…” the tears kept coming as she melted into your touch, the weight of her head leaning into your hand “i’m sorry”

“for what, baby?” you ran your thumb across her cheekbone “you have nothing to be sorry about”

“for all of this,” she exhaled, opening her eyes to actually look at you. her eyes slightly red, wet streaks running down her cheeks “for being upset like this, you shouldn’t have to sit here for this, i’m just being dramatic”

“you’re not being dramatic,” you butted in “got it? you shouldn’t have to feel sorry for being upset about something like this and i’ll have you know-i’m more than happy to be a shoulder to cry on, it’s what i’m here for. you can be respectful and reserved on the court and to the press, but you should never apologize for coming home and being vulnerable. especially with me”

a wave of silence washed over the room, caitlin’s exasperated sniffles being the only sound. she took a deep breath before continuing, gaze flickering down to her hands that were now fidgeting in her lap.

“i hate it so much,” she said, tears now only coming down harder “it was fine at first, but…but it’s just too much, i can’t”

“hey hey hey, it’s ok” you closed any distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around her and bringing her in your chest. she instantly buried her head underneath your chin, allowing you to run your fingers through her hair and rub her back comfortingly “i know, baby it’s gonna be ok”

“i thought i could handle it, you know?” her voice was small, strained even. the collar of your shirt now damp, her lengthy fingers grabbing desperately at your sides for comfort “but it’s hard to process it all…like sure, being the rookie’s hard, but…but for some reason it’s just way more difficult than i imagined. and getting shoved around sucks, but it’s not even that. i don’t know how to explain it…im just so-so frustrated”

you listened attentively, giving your two cents when it was needed, humming in agreement as she ranted. you let her get it all out, hoping that this would help take some of the weight of her chest. her stubbornness to talk about things like this caused her a great deal of pain in the end, and you’d do anything in your power (even if it were sitting here like this all night) to ease her worries. you couldn’t describe how proud of her you were, grateful that she was trusting you enough to tell you how she truly felt.

“i think i’m just so overwhelmed with everything…with press, with all these expectations, with games…all of it has just been hammering down on me and it’s really fucked me up” she finished, taking a gasp of air after she poured her entire heart out to you.

“i get it, babe” you concurred “being new is hard and i can’t even imagine how much pressure you’ve been putting on yourself over this past year. and you know i don’t know much about the game and all that, but…but what i can say is, is that you aren’t alone. you have so many people who love you and support and are here for whenever you have days like this. neither me, your friends and teammates, your family, or even your fans expect you to walk out of the season like it was nothing. this is supposed to be hard and you’re supposed to have emotions like this. i love you more than anything and i need you to know that i’m here for you through all of this, alright?”

she sat up from being curled into your embrace for what felt like hours. her tears were now mostly dry, although her nose was still a light shade of pink from the congestion. another exasperated breath tumbled from her lips as she urgently grabbed both sides of your face, leaning into you. her lips met with yours in haste. she kissed you deeply, a small whimper emitting from her throat.

“i genuinely don’t know what i’d do without you,” she said, resting her forehead on yours, your hands cupping hers as they stayed firm to your face “you always know what to say, thank you for listening and being there for me”

you laughed, grinning as you looked into her gorgeous eyes “anytime, anywhere, no matter what. i’m so proud of you babe”

after a few more words were passed between the two of you, it was decided that you both were in dire need of some rest. caitlin was tired enough as it is, coming home and letting all of her emotions go had to have been even more exhausting. getting under the covers, caitlin moved down the bed so that she could rest her head just above your stomach, the sound of your heartbeat easing her stress.

“i love you so much” she yawned, fingers snaking underneath your shirt to run along your soft skin.

“i love you too, cait” you sighed, finally letting sleep take over your body.

[fortunxa]

Fourteen days

[sequel to ‘Blue hair, blue eyes, blue lights’]

Jinx x fem!reader / modern AU

summary: They say the longer the wait, the sweeter the kiss. But, darling, I’m starving, so don’t keep me guessing.

cw: around 4k words but could be mediocre, mild nsfw

author’s note: I’m alive! Sorry for the delay in posting, I’ve been hustling :( But here’s the awaited sequel, so buckle up ;)

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“Uno, motherfucker!”

Jinx is… competitive, to say the least. As of right now, we’re lying on my bed, legs tangled, and playing UNO while it’s pouring outside. It’s well past midnight, and I stopped trying to shush her victory cheers after the second round. She has a way of making her presence known and commanding your attention, but truthfully, she isn’t hard to miss anyway. Every aspect of her exudes an unapologetic ‘Look at me!’ aura—from her infectious laughter to her bold fashion sense. Even her braids have a life of their own, swirling and swaying with every step she takes. She’s unforgettable.

But I’ve come to discover a more delicate side of her in her most vulnerable moments. It’s almost like she transforms into a different person, both in terms of her personality and, surprisingly, her appearance. Her features become softer, more child-like, her eyes wide and innocent. The way she effortlessly switches from one persona to the other is impressive to witness. On the flip side, she has a tendency to become obsessive and possessive, which resulted in us spending almost every waking moment together. You may call me crazy, but it makes me feel needed. Ultimately, isn’t that what we all want?

These are just a few of the observations I’ve made about her in the past two weeks. My mind’s file on her is growing exponentially, tucking away every information I learn about her in a safe place—from her preference for orange juice but hate for oranges to her strained relationship with her older sister, which makes my room the designated hangout spot whenever we’re stuck inside. Jinx is a complex person with many layers, and while I can’t claim to know everything about her just yet, I do feel like I have built a stable foundation of understanding what makes her unique. I certainly know enough to start falling for her.

“Alright, alright, you win. Again,” I say with a small smile playing on my lips and twenty cards in my hands. My phone is buzzing beside me—probably another message from my mom asking us to be quieter—and I ignore it. I still remember her face when she asked us how we met, and Jinx jumped up, telling her all about the police chase, earning a nudge in the ribs from me. It’s a miracle she still lets us hang out, but with the number of times the blue-haired girl sneaked in through my window, I don’t think it would’ve changed much if she didn’t.

I feel a yawn building up, but before it reaches the surface, I’m pinned against my bed. “And what do I get for winning?” Jinx teases as she straddles my hips, and I certainly feel awake now. Another thing that I learned about her is how touchy she gets, but it still catches me off-guard at times. My heart rate quickens, and I’m sure she feels it pulsating through my wrists. She smirks at my dumbfounded expression and lowers herself even more, brushing her nose against mine. “Cat got your tongue?”

This proximity between us takes me back to the night we met when we almost shared a kiss. Fucking almost. Although I’m familiar with many aspects of her, I’m still a stranger to the way she tastes. Is it sweet like the Skittles she keeps stealing from me or, on the contrary, sour like the Warheads? Perhaps it carries the freshness of her toothpaste or the fruity allure of her cherry-flavored chapstick. I need an answer to the question that’s been consuming my thoughts as of late, and I need it now.

Just when I’m about to get it, my phone buzzes again, and—you guessed it—Jinx pulls away and casually snatches it off the bed, reading the message. I feel like I’m about to explode.

“Aw, why didn’t you tell me that we woke your mom up?” she innocently asks as I stare at the ceiling with a blank look. I suddenly feel self-conscious. Maybe I was misunderstanding our connection since the beginning. Maybe she never wanted us to take it further. And maybe this is another thing that I need to learn about her—she’s just flirty, and there’s no ulterior motive behind her actions. How fucking stupid was I to think otherwise? I’d be fine if she wanted to stay friends, but this whole teasing is starting to make me feel like a toy. I need clarity.

“I guess I was too focused on our game,” I finally mutter as a reply, putting the UNO deck away before standing up to grab us two fresh pairs of pj’s. When I turn to face her again, she’s already watching me with a worried expression.

“You okay, toots?” I’m not. Jinx walks over, and her bare feet make a thumping sound across my carpet. She positions herself in front of me as her eyes analyze my demeanor, and I feel vulnerable under her scrutinizing gaze. I wonder if now’s the time to be open about my feelings, but as I take in her cerulean eyes—I stopped calling them blue as they’re so, so much more than that—I can’t bring myself to face the rejection.

My cowardice wins.

“I’m fine,” I say with a tight-lipped smile before presenting her with a nightshirt. She opens her mouth, presumably to push her investigation further, but decides against it. Her eyebrows knit together at the newfound awkwardness.

We change into our nightwear, and Jinx snuggles under the comforter while I head to turn off the lights. I remember her fear of the dark, and quickly turn on the nightlight, casting a soft pink glow across the room. I find myself wondering if she cares enough to remember the little things about me, too. I slide into bed alongside her, making sure to maintain a respectful distance between us. The air is filled with an uncharacteristic silence, broken only by the gentle patter of raindrops outside and our quiet breaths.

I flip on my side, my back toward Jinx as I try to fall asleep. I can sense her restless shuffling as she tries to find a comfortable position before she settles by wrapping her arms around my torso. She’s flush against me, and I let out a sigh—screw it. I turn around and face her before pulling her frame into my chest. Her grip tightens, and a shuddering breath escapes past her lips. I’m not a mind reader, but I know that the sudden sour mood brought her feelings of uneasiness, and a plethora of negative thoughts, igniting her own insecurities. I rest my cheek on top of her head and close my eyes. My hand finds its way into her hair, and I start massaging her scalp gently. When she finally relaxes, it doesn’t take long for me to hear her soft snores.

I don’t remember dozing off, but the morning light filtering through my window comes too early as I slowly flutter my eyes open. My eyelids feel heavy, and my bed is unexpectedly empty, fueling my disoriented state. I sit up groggily and rub the sleep from my face before scanning the room in hopes of catching a glimpse of Jinx, but she’s nowhere to be found.

Right as I’m about to sink into self-pity over her Irish goodbye, my bedroom door suddenly bursts open. I jump, and my tired eyes lock with her cheerful ones. I guess she never left after all.

“You’re finally awake! Good morning!” she exclaims with a radiant smile while skipping over to me, her slightly gapped teeth proudly on display. Her braids are tousled from sleep as she settles on the edge of the bed, presenting me with a plate of freshly made chocolate chip pancakes. “Made your favorite. And don’t worry, I already cleaned up,” she adds, and my heart swells as my eyes flicker between her and the breakfast she prepared. She does the same, a giddy smile on her face and her lower lip caught between her teeth. Yet, as I remain silent, her shoulders slump and the sparkle dims, replaced by a nervous fidgeting of her hands. “It’s okay if you don’t like–”

I interrupt her by pulling her into a tight embrace, expressing my gratitude. At first, Jinx is taken aback, but she soon returns the hug, burying her face into my neck. The scent of vanilla extract lingers in her hair—probably from messing with it during her cooking—and her skin radiates an unusual warmth, bringing a small smile to my face.

“Okay, trinket. Dig in and get some energy,” she says, pulling away as she walks over to my vanity mirror and starts unbraiding her hair. Well, don’t mind if I do. “It’s your college move-in day after all!” She giggles happily, and I almost choke at her words. It isn’t just move-in day; it’s my imaginary deadline of making her mine slowly ending. Despite my lack of progress, she has kept her word in showing me fun—however this friendship goes, I will be sure that I’ve felt alive at least once in my life.

“Shit, I forgot! What time is it?” I scramble to find my phone, which has been lost somewhere under the pillows. I leap to my feet, unsure of what to grab first as I start flailing around. “I still need to finish packing and–and load the boxes into the car, and I–”

“Woah, slow down!” Jinx grabs my shoulders and grounds me in the middle of the room. She takes a deep breath and urges me to mirror her actions. “What am I here for?” Her hands trail up my neck and rest on my jawline, leaving me breathless again. “Finish eating first, then we can worry about the rest. Capiche?” I nod, and she pats my cheek with a grin. “Good girl.”

I’m left flustered, and she resumes untangling her hair as if she didn’t just say the hottest shit I have ever heard in my life. I try to keep my cool and finish my breakfast, but my imagination is running wild with all the scenarios I could be a good girl in. I pick out some fresh clothes for the day, trying my best to act casual while my thoughts are anything but.

“I’m just going to freshen up. I’ll be back in a few,” I say and head to the bathroom, hoping that a cold shower would tame my heat. But, on the other hand, there’s a part of me that’s begging for her to join and do it for me.

She never does—obviously—but I come back with a clearer head. Jinx’s hair is now completely down, her vibrant blue waves cascading to the floor. I see her struggle to part it evenly and decide to step up.

“Here, let me help you,” I offer as I gently take the comb from her hands, carefully brushing out any leftover knots before dividing her hair into two even sections. As I work on the base of the first braid, I steal glances at her in the mirror’s reflection. Her eyes are closed, and she occasionally lets out content hums, seemingly lost in thought.

“For the record, toots,” she speaks up as she now deftly weaves the second braid with practiced fingers, “I don’t let just anyone touch my hair.” My brain is slowly putting the meaning behind her words together, and a smile tugs at my lips as realization dawns on me—I’m special. Despite my best efforts, I fail to conceal my grin. Jinx communicates a lot through body language, so when she explicitly says what’s on her mind, it stuns me a bit.

“So, I’m not just anyone, huh?” I tease and concentrate on finishing the braid.

“Clearly you’re my getaway driver,” she retorts with a smirk, and I nudge her shoulder.

Once we’re done working on her hair, we begin filling up the boxes and clearing out most of my room. It’s a mix of emotions knowing that I’m moving away, even if it's only temporary. But what really tugs at the strings of my heart is the thought of not being able to spend as much time with the blue-haired troublemaker. With my upcoming college schedule and her still torn between taking a gap year or not, the idea of our bond weakening is the most difficult part to imagine. If I’m lucky, perhaps life will allow our connection to endure and flourish.

“Sheesh, I don’t remember packing rocks. Did you?” Jinx huffs as she loads the last box into my car. I laugh and shut the trunk.

“It’s my books, dummy,” I reply and get behind the wheel as she takes the passenger seat.

“At least you’ll be too busy reading to hook up with anyone,” she mutters, connecting my phone to the car, and my cheeks flush. Totally normal thing to say to a friend.

The song Jinx chose is blasting through the speakers as I pull off. We fall silent, but I can see her bopping her head to the music in the corner of my eye, lost in her own world with her feet on the dashboard, which she had decorated ‘the Jinx way’ as she called it. Meanwhile, I’m filled with embarrassment as I realize that I haven’t even checked the released college roommate assignments. How awkward will it be if I introduce myself to my bunk buddy after moving in? On a scale of one to ten, I deem it a seven. I don’t even remember filling out the housing application, for fuck’s sake.

We’re halfway there when we decide to take a quick pit stop, and I pull over on a backroad underneath a row of trees. Jinx gets out of the car with an indecipherable expression, and I follow in confusion. I’m no stranger to her mood swings, but I still get concerned. She’s walking around in circles, kicking at the dirt and stray rocks caught in the crossfire of her boots. When I open my mouth to call out for her, she beats me to it.

“Can I talk to you about something, toots?” she asks as she whips around to face me. I simply nod, and she continues, “Somewhere private.” She climbs into the backseat as I look around the empty road. Doesn’t get much more private than this, but I digress. I shut the door behind me and get comfortable.

“So what did you–” I don’t have a chance to finish as she straddles my lap, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach as I recall what happened the last time she did this—her teasing won’t stop unless I speak up, but when I take notice of the whirlwind of emotions flashing through her eyes, my hands subconsciously fall to her hips, tracing soothing circles on the soft skin. I realize I’d rather be stuck in limbo than lose her altogether.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Her question takes me by surprise, and my eyebrows shoot up. She squeezes my cheeks with one hand, turning my face upwards.

“W–what? Why would you think that?” I stutter as her gaze skims over my features.

“Why won’t you make a move already?” Her voice is wobbly, and I’m left speechless. My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of the water as I rack my brain for the right words.

“I wasn’t–I’m not sure if you want me to,” I finally reply, and she makes a face.

“Look at us, Y/N” –she gestures to our current position– “you’re a smart girl, don’t act clueless now.”

Realization hits me like a train. Jinx needs loyalty and devotion—she needs me to show her how much I want her. She wants to know that despite her complex character, I’ll stick around and fight for her. In retrospect, it all seems so simple and obvious.

“Jinx?” My voice is barely above a whisper as I look into her eyes. She can only hum in response. “I’m going to count to three, and then I’m going to kiss you.” Her grip on me loosens in surprise, and her wide eyes are blinking rapidly. “I’m giving you those three seconds to stop me if you change your mind.” She stays silent, and I begin my countdown.

1…

2…

3.

When I finally taste her, I realize how badly I’ve been starving.

My hands cannot bring her close enough to me as I snake my arm around her waist and rest my free hand on her jawline. I’m not holding back anymore. If she wants devotion, I’ll show her exactly that.

I’m furious—furious that I’d been denied this pleasure for so long, but my lips move against hers as if they’d already danced this way before. It’s effortless, like the gliding of a pen on paper from an inspired writer’s hand, and she’s the muse.

It’s not a gentle kiss, the way first ones usually go. It’s hungry, rough, and precisely what was needed to let out the pent-up tension. It’s swirling tongues, dripping saliva, and smudged lipsticks. Without ever pulling away, I carefully lay her on her back, and my fingers sink into the soft flesh of her thighs. Her colorful nails claw at my back, and I groan into her mouth, digging my hips into hers. We’re both breathing heavily through our noses, and my attention shifts to her neck by biting and sucking on the tender skin, letting my hands roam over her curves freely, mapping out her body.

A trail of hickeys is forming on her collarbone, and she’s a moaning and whimpering mess under my touch; it’s a blissful sight. She locks her slender legs around my hips and pulls me further into her, chasing more friction. Watching her become so needy thrills me even more, and my hand tentatively falls to her clothed crotch. Her jaw slacks in anticipation as my fingers ghost over the area where she needs me most, and her back arches into me in response. I want to watch her unravel beneath me, shaking limbs and sweat dripping from her temples.

But she’d teased me too many times for me to grant her this relief right now.

I relish the feeling of our closeness with one last peck and catch Jinx’s lower lip between my teeth, pulling on it slightly before letting go, earning a faint whine from her.

We’re both panting and trying to catch our breaths as I hover above her, my palms firmly planted on the seat on either side of her face, propping myself up. I can’t help but admire my work. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are swollen, her smudged plum lipstick matching the bruises on her neck—still, she’s absolutely beautiful. She watches me through half-hooded eyes with her pupils dilated, and I smirk at her breathlessness.

“Leaving me high and dry, trinket?” she asks, and her hands fall to my hips, trying to pull me back in.

“Call it payback,” I reply before hoisting her back into my lap, and she yelps in surprise.

Jinx grips my shoulders to steady herself, and I try my best to smooth out her disheveled hair. I start peppering sweet kisses to her bruised skin, and she lets her head fall back with a pleased sigh. I pull her back in so my lips can find hers once again. It’s much slower this time, grounding us in the moment, and there’s that delicate side of her peeking through with each swipe of her tongue. When I pull away and take notice of her peaceful state, I know it was all worth the wait. I caress her cheek with the back of my hand, and she leans into my touch.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve craved this?” I whisper, and an amused glint flashes through her eyes.

“Two weeks isn’t that long.” She’s giggling now, and this sound alone is enough to bring a smile to my face.

“It is when you’re right in front of me, and I’m unable to touch you properly.” My thumb starts working on cleaning up her smudged lipstick, and her features soften as she mirrors my actions.

Sitting in the backseat with her feels like a full-circle moment. This is where it all began—a simple thrill-seeking witness turned getaway driver for a blue-haired menace.

Fourteen days.

It took me two weeks to make her mine.

I can’t help the dumb smile tugging on the corners of my mouth as I start driving again. Jinx’s head is on my lap, the same way it was the night we met, and she’s telling me which houses she’s planning on tagging next. The drive goes by quickly as we exchange our opinions on what the Montana spray paint smells like—I say cotton candy, she’s hellbent on bubblegum—and before we know it, I’m parking outside my future college.

“Oooh, look how fancy,” Jinx speaks up as she analyzes the building, and she’s absolutely right. The size itself is intimidating, and I can already see myself getting lost in the halls. The architecture looks modern with futuristic touches, and the campus is surrounded by grass and cherry blossom trees. If it wasn’t for my scholarship, I wouldn’t even dream of affording to study here. “Is now a good time to tell you that I’m your bunk buddy?”

I turn my head so quickly I almost give myself whiplash, and I stare at her as if she grew a second head in the last thirty seconds.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I grab her arm in disbelief, and she shakes her head with a smile, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“Surprise!” She laughs while I’m still processing her confession. “My mechanical engineering scholarship got accepted, so I filled out your housing application and requested myself. Then I filled out mine and requested you. I didn’t think it would work, but, holy shit, isn’t that awesome?”

Any sane person would feel violated by this. But me? I’m fucking delighted.

“You’re a gift that keeps on giving.” My hands cup her cheeks as I pull her in for a kiss, the excitement getting the best of me. One kiss turns into two, then three, and before I know it, I’m peppering her whole face in them as she laughs. When she finally settles, there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Wanna test out the beds?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: um I woke up to this in my head. Sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You honk your horn as another driver slowly veers toward the line. You’re not letting them in. If they can’t weave in, then they aren’t fast enough to leave the slow lane. You sigh and gesture at them as kindly as you can in that instant. You have enough going on. 

Your phone starts to ring. Again. You tap the button on your steering wheel to answer. You would know who it is even without his custom ringtone. Your boss allows no space for breathing, even on a call. 

“How far out are you, pixie?” Lloyd asks as you growl and lean on the gas pedal. You hate driving on the highway, especially at night, and the sky is steadily dimming. 

“Close,” you assure him. “Next exit,” you flip your blinker on. 

“Thank god. You got everything?” 

Yeah, everything you forgot. You don’t give the dry retort aloud. You know better. Where your boss has no filter to be found, you find yourself often censoring yourself. As much for his ego as for others’. Arguing never gets you anywhere. 

“I believe so--” 

“You believe or you do?” He asks impatiently. 

“Mr. Hansen, I got everything on the list,” you assure him. “All with a bow on top.” 

“A life saver, pix, I swear,” he praises, but a compliment from him is rarely genuine, more transactional. You did him a favour so he’ll give you a treat. 

“Alright, I need to get over, ramp’s coming up. So--” 

“Yeah, yeah,” his ends rustles and you hear a muffled female voice, “I got shit going on too. You got the address, text me.” 

He hangs up first. You can never be the first to end the call. He has to make the decisions. You just know how to guide him to the right one. You merge into the exit lane and follow the ramp away from the whirring stream of headlight. Finally. 

You’re less than pleased to be within minutes of your destination. This isn’t how you envisioned your holiday. A last-minute itinerary change to fix yet another of Mr. Hansen’s oversights. It’s never a mistake, he’s just a man with so much going on that it slipped his radar. Another bandage for his ego. 

The slower pace feeds your agitation. At least on the highway, you felt like you were getting somewhere. The lazy roll of the cars in the town tweaks at the nape of your neck. You just want to be in one place and that won’t happen even when you get to Mr. Hansen. 

You’ll be lucky to have two hours of sleep before you have to catch your rebooked flight. Yep. You’ll play Santa and drop off your lot before hiding at the hotel long enough to dread the airport jungle. Then it’s off to your own familial obligations. Those are rarely enjoyable and being a day later than promised will hardly please your mother. 

Your phone announces your arrival at the destination. The long drive of the over-sized suburban mansion is full. You park on the street and turn on the interior light. You get out and open the back seat. The whole medley of shiny paper and quaffed bows stares back at you. 

You text Mr. Hansen and wait, huffing and puffing with impatience. Of course, you have to upheave your plans to meet his deadlines, but he’s taking his time. It’s not a surprise, not even a disappointment, you expected as much. 

“Pixieee,” Lloyd drags out the last syllable, “there you are, pretty pixie.” 

Pretty Pixie? He’s drunk or he’s going to ask for something else. You brace yourself as his shadow struts up the long driveway and passes beneath the cone cast by the tall street lights. Coloured lights glimmer over him from the eaves of the surrounding facades. 

“Mr. Hansen, wrapped, labelled, everything you requested,” you gesture to the backseat. 

“An angel. A true saviour, pixie,” he surprises you as he grabs your head, his palms pressing to your cheeks as he bends to kiss your forehead, “did I ever tell you you’re immaculate?” 

“Mr. Hansen,” you gently pull his wrists until he drops his hands. You smell the alcohol radiating off of him. 

“It’s the holiday, call me Lloyd, sweet cake,” he insists. 

“Right,” you tut and turn to drag out the largest gift bag, “here, you better just take all this, I have to check-in--” 

“About that,” he ignores the gift as you hold it out. “We’re just about to start dinner, you should pop in, have a bite.” 

“I can’t, Mr. Hansen--” 

“Of course you can,” he insists. You look up at him. His eyes gleam in the spectrum of lights shining from your car, the houses, and the tall poles. You sniff. He’s only tipsy, there’s still the hint of authoritarianism firmly implanted in his tone. “I told everyone you would.” 

“Everyone?” You echo anxiously. 

“The family,” he exclaims as if it should be obvious. 

“Okay, I can come say hello but--” you wiggle the bag at him. 

“Damn right you can,” he catches your hand and takes the bag. He drops it on the ground carelessly. 

“Mr. Hansen, that’s fragile,” you say. 

“Shhhh,” he grabs your hand and you curl and unfurl your fingers desperately, “Lloyd, remember?” He feels around in his pocket as he keeps you in his vice, “now, you just need to slip this on.” 

He struggles to line up the ring with your finger as you squirm in confusion. What is he doing? 

“Mr. Han--” 

“Lloyd,” he growls, all humour trickling away. He squeezes until you whimper. “Look, I just need you to smile and bat those long lashes of yours, alright?” 

“What’s going on?” 

“As far as anyone knows, I proposed to you on Thanksgiving,” he says. 

“Proposed?!” You nearly shriek. 

He hushes you again and finally rams the ring down to your knuckle. “Look, pixie, mommy’s being a real pain in my ass so you just need to play along.” 

“Mr.--” 

“If I have to tell you one more time--” 

“Lloyd,” you gulp, “please. I... this is... strange. What? Why? I have a flight in eight hours.” 

“Cancel it,” he sneers. “Double time and a half for holiday overtime. See the family in the New Year.” 

“What? That’s-- This is insane--” 

“This is your job, honey,” he clings to your hand. “To do what I say or you can spend your January trawling the job boards.” He squeezes until the band digs into your flesh. “Now, I know Mr. Walker thinks you’re darling and he offered you a role last year but once I tell him about your little defiance issue, I don’t think he’ll be interested--” 

“Huh?” 

“I know a lot more than you think,” he grits. “Alright? So let’s start getting this shit inside. That’ll give you a chance to get yourself together.” 

“Lloyd,” you gasp. “Why--” 

“No more fucking question. Since when did you get so uppity,” he barks. 

“Sir--” 

“Ah, none of that, either,” he lets you go and waggles his finger in your face. “Relax. Have some eggnog when we get inside and take the edge off.” 

“This can’t be happening,” you murmur. 

“It’s fucking happening, alright?” He picks up the bag off the ground. “I keep you around ‘cause you’re quick on your feet, Pix, so let’s get to it.” 

“Oh god,” you utter. 

“Keep it to yourself,” he warns. 

Your disbelief has you a bit dumb. You’re panicking. He knows you have an insurance policy with Walker and you have no doubt he’ll do all he can to spoil your future if you fuck around with his present. You’ve worked long enough for him to believe his threats, even when everything else is dubious. 

You turn and grab several gifts from the backseat. You move out of his way and he gathers some more himself. He backs up and uses his knee to close the door. He nods you toward the house. 

“Smile, act like you’re excited,” he commands. 

You pass him and stare up at the blaze of holiday lights. The lawn is decorated with a Santa and sleigh, complete with all his reindeer. You make the march up the walk and towards the glowing windows that trim the front door.  

Lloyd comes up next to you and kicks it, “open up.” 

It isn’t long before obedience appears from the other side. You do a double take at the man who answers the door. He looks a lot like Lloyd but not. He doesn’t sport the same bristly stache and his hair neatly combed, the sides unshaved but tidy. He rolls his eyes. 

“Was hoping you got lost in the snow,” the man scoffs. 

“Shut up,” Lloyd shoulders through, “always a fucking prick, Hugh.” 

The other man snarls, “don’t fucking call me that.” 

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby boy,” Lloyd puts the gifts on the bench against the wall, under the large mirror with an elaborate frame. “Why don’t you go suck on mommy’s teat?” 

“You’re disgusting,” the other man, Hugh, hisses. 

“Speak for yourself. We’re the OnlyFans thot? She not joining us?” 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

“Fuck you, fuck me, we already did this, remember?” Lloyd faces him. 

“And who’s this slut?” The man tosses you a sharp glare.  

“Woah, man, that’s my future wife,” Lloyd lies so easily it startles you. He sounds almost genuine and you’ve never heard him sound like that. “Not a slut, so keep your eyes and your hands to yourself.” 

“Huh, I didn’t believe it,” the man puts his hand on his hip as he looks you up and down, “she’s tiny.” 

You narrow your eyes, speechless as they talk about you like a new lamp. 

“Ransom,” Lloyd gestures to him derisively, “Pixie. Now you’ve met so you can skedaddle back to the liquor cabinet.” 

The man, Ransom, snickers, “good luck, sweetheart,” he scoffs. “If you need a drink, just look for me. You probably will. At least for the next forty years.” 

He struts off through the archway behind him and you look at Lloyd. He takes the armful of gifts from you and grumbles. He stops and crosses his arms.  

“Well, get your boots off. Mom will kill you if you’re tracking salt all over her freshly polished floors,” he shakes his head. “And a bit of advice, stay away from my cousin. Ransom’s a fucking pest.” 

“Right, sir.” 

He tilts his head and you show your palms, “Lloyd.” 

“Good girl,” he says and slips free of his loafers. “Now, you’re going to have to meet my parents before anyone else or I won’t hear the end of it. I’ve already got an earful. I know I shoulda booked that resort...” 

You unzip your boots and set them aside on the rack. You stand and he beckons you past the open archway and down the hallway. You take in the decor; gold on beige on ivory. It’s all very luxurious. 

He pushes through a white birch door and warmth enshrines you along with the smell of turkey. There’s a clattering beneath a shrill voice snapping out orders, “oh, not mashed, whipped!” 

A tall blonde woman crosses her arms as she hovers like a vulture over the aproned staff crowded around the large marble island. Lloyd grabs your hand and drags you after him. Your socks slip on the tile as dread coils up your limbs. 

“Mom, she’s here,” he announces as he gets close to her. 

“Ugh, about time, they already set the table and I was dreading the empty plate,” she slithers. She turns her chin down to see you, “Oh, look at her. She’s so... petite.” She levels her hand with the top of your head, “much different than I envisioned.” 

You look at Lloyd as he pushes his shoulders back. You’ve never heard anyone talk to him like that and you’ve never seen him so uptight. You turn your attention back to the woman. 

“Hello, Mrs. Hansen, it’s nice to meet you,” you offer your hand. 

She considers it then grabs it, turning the ring up. You examine the jewel as she does the same, your first glimpse at the thing. She harrumphs, “that’s the ring?” 

“Mom,” Lloyd utters. 

“Mm, very well. Dear, you may call me Gwenyth, not Mrs. Hansen,” she lets you go. “Now, dear son, out of my way. I’m trying to get dinner done.” 

Lloyd stares at her, almost expectantly, the takes your hand again and leads you away. He pulls you back through the door. You don’t dare say a word. He leads you away from the kitchen and the wall of voices buzzing from the front room. He guides you through the archway opposite and around to another door. 

He knocks and there’s a lull as you wait. He taps again. There’s coughing from the other side. “What do you want?” 

“Just me, Dad,” Lloyd answers. 

“Ugh, get in here then,” the timbre calls back. 

Lloyd twists the knob and urges you in ahead of him. The smell of cigar smoke blows in with the cold wind. A gray-haired man puffs by the window, his efforts to puff through the opening sabotaged by the wintry gusts. 

“Close the door. I don’t need the banshee sniffing me out,” he growls. 

“Sure,” Lloyd shuts the door. “Dad, uh, this is her. The woman I told you about. My fiance.” 

“Took you long enough,” the man sneers. You flinch and his grey eyes soften, “him, I mean. Forty-three years--” 

“Dad,” Lloyd rasps. 

“Well,” his father looks you over, “she’s young. Bit small...” 

You do your best not to let your annoyance show. So you’re a little shorter than average. 

“William,” he introduces himself, “and you are?” 

“Pixie,” Lloyd answers for you. 

“Didn’t ask you, boy,” William rebukes and keeps his eyes on you. “You smoke?” 

You mull his question and sigh, “never tried it but I guess it’s never too late to start.” 

William snorts, “truer words.” He puffs, “I don’t recommend it. Horrible habit.” He tamps out the stogie in a copper tray. “Well then, is the food ready, or did you just come to show me your woman?” 

Lloyd stiffens and touches your lower back, “guess I just came to do that.” He mutters, “come on, let’s go get something to drink.” He turns and opens the door. 

“Don’t let the smoke out,” William snips as you spin around. 

[psychickiss]

smile!

— saiki kusuo x reader (gn, 2nd pov)

— summary: Helping out Saiki has its perks—example, he smiles for a picture with you on what would look like a date to outsiders.

— notes: this was an old fic i posted from june! edited it a little and finally remembered to reup here :-)

— things: hmmmm i guess the reader's relationship with saiki is kind of romantic? but the overall dialogue and stuff is platonic :-)

— masterlist | request form

When Saiki couldn’t go to Toritsuka for help, he’d approach you.

You weren’t explicitly aware of his powers, but you’ve had your suspicions. Though, it was something you never brought up in conversation with Saiki.

Whenever you do help Saiki out, you assure him that he isn’t in debt to you. This results in Saiki going out of his way to silently pay you back. He knows your words are true, but he wasn’t okay with a good deed going unrewarded.

Additionally, you were okay with doing just about anything. Help him stay away from the sports festival? Sure, you hated it too. Join the Occult club so there’s a not-so-annoying familiar face? Why not? The club seemed like it wouldn’t be too much work.

Talk to a guy from another class for Saiki? Okay.

You weren’t the best at starting a conversation, and neither was Satou Hiroshi. Why Saiki wants to know his interests, you didn’t bother asking. It wasn’t your business.

Opening a conversation with Satou wasn’t hard at all—you figured you could just lie on the spot. “Hi, Satou. Truth be told, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. I want to make friends from every section, and I thought I’d talk to you.”

Satou looks up at you, surprised. “Me? But, I’m not as interesting as the other guys here... Like Toritsuka–”

You abruptly shake your head. “I’ve interacted enough with him. I’m good. But, you... You just have a calming presence, you know? Puts people at ease.”

Saiki, from afar, listens in on your conversation. You had suggested to be on call with him as you made conversation with Satou.

Listening in on your conversation with Satou was something Saiki could do without the help of technology, but you didn’t know that, so Saiki agreed. This made you one of the really few people in Saiki’s phone contacts.

You pull an empty chair near Satou and sit on it. “So, tell me, what do you like? Any favorite bands, drinks, stuff like that?”

Satou happily answers you. “One OK Rock! I love their songs! Ah, I drink a lot of peach tea, too.”

You smile at Satou. “Oh, that’s nice. Do you have any hobbies?”

“I like to read.”

You nod. Average hobby. I like to read too. Everyone likes reading to a certain degree. You then ask him, “Oh? What kind of stuff do you read?”

Satou hums. “Well, I read all kinds of books. I like to pick up a copy of Weekly Jump on Fridays; kind of a reward for getting through the week.”

“That’s so interesting...! Would you want to walk home with me later? That way, we could talk more.” You put your hand in your pocket, checking to see if your phone was still there. You proceed to stand up from the chair and put it back in its place.

Satou awkwardly laughs in response. “I’m sorry, but I have a few errands to do after school, I wouldn’t want to drag you around with me. Maybe some other time.”

You laugh back. “It’s alright. There’s no need for you to apologize! I’ll be on my way now. Good luck with class, Satou.”

“Thank you, you too.” Satou waves before walking away.

You take out your phone and hold it close to your ear. “So? Is that all?”

Saiki hums. “Yes. Thank you.”

“How are you going to get this week’s Jump? We aren’t allowed to leave schoolgrounds until classes are over.”

Saiki answers you, “I have my ways.”

You furrow your brows. “Alright... Why do you want to hang out with him, anyway? No offense, but he’s kind of... bland.”

“That’s exactly why I want to talk to him. Also, we can stop the call. I can see you walking towards me.”

You sigh and end the call, continuing your conversation with Saiki face-to-face. “Alright... And you’re sure he’ll talk to you?”

Saiki shrugs.

You reply flatly, “That’s reassuring. I’ll be at Café Mami if things go well, or not. The usual booth. I’ll just text you.”

I could use clairvoyance to find you, but that works.

...

You enter Café Mami, alone for the time being, and look for an empty booth. You spot one and head straight to it, setting your bag down. You text Saiki.

You:

Do you want coffee jelly?

Saiki:

👍🏼

You:

How’s it going with Satou?

Saiki:

I’m waiting for him by the gate. I have a copy of this week’s Jump with me, and I bought peach tea from the cafeteria.

You:

Okay. This means you’ll be going to Café Mami though, right?

Saiki:

I’m just going for the coffee jelly.

You smile at his message before closing your phone. Keep telling yourself that, Saiki.

The manager approaches you and takes your order; you order something for yourself, and two cups of coffee jelly for Saiki. One for him to eat here, and...

“The other coffee jelly is to-go, thank you.”

You open your phone again and search up the band Satou mentiond, One OK Rock. You rummage your bag for your earphones, but to your dismay, you couldn’t find it.

You quietly sigh to yourself. I guess... I’ll listen with my phone really close to my ear. God, I hope no one hears.

You choose a song and pleasantly listen to it. This actually isn’t so bad. Might add this to my playlist– the song stops. You check the notification.

Saiki:

Hello. I am on my way there.

You:

Take care. ♡

You see Saiki enter Café Mami, and your eyes dart towards the earphones he’s wearing. You point at it. “Those are mine! Where did you get those?”

Saiki sits down as he answers you, “Your bag.”

“You didn’t ask...!”

The manager approaches you two. “Here’s your order. The coffee jelly to-go will be served shortly.”

Saiki looks at you, confused about that last sentence.

“Ah, I ordered a second one for you to enjoy at home.”

Saiki’s eyes sparkle at your words.

You bring your order closer to you. “So, how did things go with Satou?”

Saiki slumps his shoulders and dejectedly hands you back your earphones. “I’ll be taking both coffee jellies to-go, thanks.”

Your voice was riddled with panic, “Huh–?! No, don’t go! Is it that bad?”

“He didn’t talk to me.”

You laugh. “That’s it? Did you even try to talk to him? You’re not the most chatty person I know.”

Saiki nods. “I had everything he liked; Weekly Jump, peach tea, and I was listening to One OK Rock. I even smiled at him.”

You hold back your laughter, you didn’t want Saiki to feel worse than he already did. “Maybe... Maybe he didn’t talk to you because he knew you stole my earphones.”

Irritated, Saiki replies, “That is totally unrelated”

You shrug. “Yeah.” You decide to tease him, “Maybe your smile was weird. Off-putting. I mean, you don’t smile a lot.”

Saiki shakes his head. “My smile wasn’t weird.”

“I’ll have to see for myself.”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

Saiki doesn’t reply to your comment, opting to finally eat the coffee jelly in front of him.

“Here’s the coffee jelly to-go. Your order’s complete. Thank you!”

You smile at the waiter and gently push the paper bag with the coffee jelly inside towards Saiki.

Hm... Maybe if he smiled at Satou like that, then they’d be hanging out like this. Ah, then I wouldn’t be able to see Saiki so happy. Perhaps I’ll be selfish, just this once.

Saiki thought to himself as he ate the coffee jelly. For someone who’s had their suspicions about my powers, you sure think rather shamelessly. You’ve done a lot for me, so I’ll let you have this.

Saiki finishes his coffee jelly. “Take out your phone.”

You do as told, although clueless to Saiki’s intentions. “Okay...?”

“I’ll show you the smile I gave to Satou.”

You move over in your seat so Saiki could sit beside you. He takes the hint and walks over to you.

You two smile and you snap a picture, the smile on your face still there as you examine it. Saiki returns to his seat.

You two were smiling, but you were the only one looking at the camera. You look up from your phone, then at Saiki. “Why were you looking at me?”

He’d then respond, “I wasn’t ready.” You looked happy.

[hysteria-things]

can you do a story where y/n is really sick (a cold)

and chris is loving and takes cares of her

SNUG AS A BUG

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve been fighting this terrible cold for about a week, and your boyfriend loves to take care of you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing, crying

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 570

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: fun fact this is based off when i was sick and dying in like october LMAO it was the worst i’ve ever felt.

hope you like it anon!

i’m feeling jolly today so i might post a smut later ;)

here’s to day a million of being sick. realistically, it’s only been a week, but you still felt like shit.

the TV was playing your favorite show since you’ve had enough free time to binge. it feels like you’ve been glued to the couch forever.

tissues were scattered on the snack table next to you along with two empty bowls — one with soup from breakfast and one with ice cream. those are the only two things you can eat since your throat is killing you.

your parents have to work, so chris has been coming over to take care of you when they’re not available.

the front door opens; you don’t have the energy to look at who it is (even though you know)

“i got you your soup from wawa and some more water.” chris smiles sympathetically at you, placing the things on the table.

“thank you.” you hoarse out.

“how are you feeling?”

“terrible.”

he pouts. “i’m going to go to your room for just a second. let me know if you need anything.”

you nod as he walks away, making his way up the staircase. however, he pauses midway when he hears your sniffles.

it’s not just congested sniffles. they’re cry sniffles.

he snaps his head to you. you have the soup in your hands, but you’re not eating it. instead, you’re using the spoon to mix it.

he quickly goes back down the stairs to come rushing to you. “oh, no. none of that.” he takes his thumbs and wipes your tears, leaving his hands cupping your cheeks afterward.

“i don’t want to be sick anymore.” you sob. his heart is breaking seeing you like this. he hates it when you’re upset. “my h-head hurts so bad. a-and i feel so weak.”

“i know, i’m sorry.” he places your head into his stomach since he’s standing in front of you, and your tears start to wet his shirt. “just keep taking the medicine the doctor gave you and you’ll get better in no time.”

“i don’t want the soup.” you cry. you tend to say nonsense when you’re this upset about something.

“that’s okay.” he grabs it from your hands and places it with the other bowls. “we can save it for later, alright?”

a chill runs up your spine. chris starts to take the blanket off of your body and before you can protest, he speaks. “let’s bring you to bed. it’s much more comfortable.”

he takes your hands in his and helps you off the couch, walking at your pace until you’re upstairs and into your room. you immediately head under the covers, plus two more blankets for your chills.

chris starts tucking you in with a goofy grin on his face, as if he’s a father tucking in his child. “feel snug?”

you smile warmly. “as a bug.”

“i’m going to go get your medicine and water so you have them. i’ll be right back.”

you yawn but nod as he leaves the room.

moments later chris returns, but you already passed out. he quietly makes his way into the room when he notices this, placing the items on your nightstand.

he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kneeling to kiss you on the forehead. “i love you.” he whispers, backing out of the room and closing the door, leaving you to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss

[mrs-monaghan]

I’ve seen a lot of talk about how JK loves Jimin in the show, many have pointed out all the things he says and does for Jimin. But what does Jimin do for JK? How did we see him love Jk in the show because I’m struggling to see it and hate that.

You mean apart from claiming him?

Coz anon, letting the world know a person is yours kinda goes to show Jimin loves the hell out of JK... hard enough to announce to everyone, but okay. If u want us to look at a few instances then we shall...

I gotta say though, not seeing how Jimin loves JK is wild. But, let's proceed.

I personally still can't get over Jimin waxing himself for JK. Its giving, amazing boyfriend who knows what his man likes 😏

I'm sorry but that is so gay

Alright anon. To really start us off, is the reason why AYS exists in the first place.

We saw JK missing Jimin here and Jimin missing JK here. So Jimin doing this did not surprise me at all. I mean, we all remember he's it done before in 2019, so he's a grand gestures type of boyfriend. Wbk 😍🥺 I mean, man did say he would travel to the moon for JK. Literally.

So yeah, that's Jimin for ya. The guy who you can't seem to see just how much he loves JK 🤦🏽‍♀️ Moving on... so they decided to play RPS

Jimin wins and what does he do?

That's right. The rule of the game is to pick what you want first and eat that. But no, Mimi knows his baby loves to eat so even though he won, he finds out first what JK wants.

They play again, Jimin wins and once again,

He offers JK first.

Makes you wonder what the point of this game is atp 😂😂 but Jimin will always put his man first and that's on fax. Cue editors pointing it out for you anon;

Still you missed it... smh.

Next.

When he allowed a probably tired JK to rest on his shoulder.

How cute was that? It reminded me of this:

Jimin doesn't love JK you say? Let's continue ☺

JK is special. We've known this for years. Jimin has always given JK that special treatment and has never even tried to hide it.

This post would feel incomplete if we didn't talk about their none existent hyung/dongsaeng dynamic.

Not me going into bedroom territory and cackling at the fact that JK probably loves to rile up top Jimin. 🤭🤭

Ahem. Moving on swiftly 😌 to this other sweet moment.

i.e Jimin giving up his seat for JK.

And you who is reading this saying that aint a big deal... umm, I beg to differ??? They were filming something that was gonna be viewed by millions so of course one wants to look their best. And JK knew this which is why he asked Jimin about his best side in the first place. So yeah, this was a very sweet thing Jimin did for JK.

Jimin is a really nice person. You know? Like, Jikook aside, this dude is the real deal.

Anygays,

Jimin supporting JK's music. Standing next to you especially 😂 but I also loved when he sang hate you. That was awesome. And don't forget SEVEN too.

Last but definitely not least (due to maximum image space) Right in the beginning anon, the show opens with Jimin being super worried about JK's voice.

Jimin is not even subtle with how he treats and loves and dotes on JK.

I'm struggling to see it and I hate that.

Anon I can't believe you. Struggling? With Jimin of all people? Just for that I'll be coming back with a part 2. Hope these moments ring some bells for ya

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Dogs

Alien: Why did you take me to here? Alien: You know I hate being outside. Human: How else would I get you to the greatest place on the planet? Alien: *About to ask question when sudden noise distracts them* Alien: *Reads sign on nearby post* Alien: What is a “Dog Park”? ----------------------------- Human: Unlike cats, dogs are man’s true best friend. Alien: And why is that? Human: Because they won’t brutally maim you if you pet them too long. -----------------------------

Alien: What does one do with their dog? Human: Play fetch mostly. Alien: What is fetch? Human: *Picks up ball and throws it* *Nearest dog sprints after it and brings it back* Alien: That’s it? Human: No; now comes the difficult part. Alien: Which is? Human: Trying to get the ball back. ---------------------------

Alien: Aren’t these creatures expensive to maintain? Human: Medical wise they are about the same as cats. Human: Entertainment wise they are much cheaper. Alien: How so? Human: *Picks up nearby stick and wobbles it around* *Golden retriever stops what it was doing and focuses on stick* *Tail begins wagging at turbo speed and they hunch down on two legs with their back legs up* Human: *Hands stick to alien friend* Now you try. Alien: Really? Alien: You think this will- Alien: *Notices dog now focusing entirely on him as he wobbles stick* Alien: Oh my gods…. Human: I know right? Alien: I have become their god now. ----------------------------

Alien: Do they have any weaknesses? Human: Don’t put a mirror in front of them. Alien: What happens if you do? *Pair turns as a dog begins loudly barking* *Pair see a dog barking aggressively at its own reflection* Human: Because of that. Alien: That doesn’t seem so- *Dog leaps at mirror and bonks its head* Human: See? Alien: Question withdrawn. -----------------------

Alien: May I try walking one of these dogs? Human: Are you sure? Human: You’ll need upper arm strength to restrain them if they get excited. Alien: *Looks down at tiny little corgi* Alien: I think I can handle them. *Chuckles* Human: Alright. *Hands leash over* Alien: *Begins walking dog around park* Alien: I don’t know what they were talking about. Alien: This is easy. *Random squirrel runs past corgi and Corgi chases after it* Alien: *Violently thrown to ground by sudden pull and dragged across the dog park* Human: *Watching his alien friend swear in his native language* I’d feel sorry over this, but I warned them so it’s okay to be funny. -------------------------

Alien: *Finally gets free of corgi leash and picks themselves off the ground* Alien: What…*Gasp* the….*double gasp* florp! Alien: How was that tiny creature so strong?! Human: The tiny ones are the most energetic. Human: The big ones are the giant babies of the species. Alien: How does that make any sense at all? Human: *Takes alien by the face and directs their gaze down at excited pitbull8 Human: Look at that smooshy face! Human: Nothing has to make sense when you look at that cute stupid smooshy face! -------------------------

*Dog comes up at starts nuzzling alien* Alien: Ah; you are an adorable creature. *picks up dog and cradles it like a baby* Alien: *Starts rubbing its belly* Human: *Notices and comes over* Human: I’m glad you’re starting to warm up to them. Alien: *Nods* They are enjoyable after a period. Human: Just as an FYI, that’s a Pug and when they’re on their back they can’t breathe. Alien: WHAT!? Alien: *Immediately puts dog down and it gasps several times* Alien: I didn’t….you mustn't think I would.. Human: Just wait a sec. *Alien watches pug take several more deep breaths before looking up at him and starts wagging tail again.* Alien: They are not very smart, are they? Human: We call that their “Derp” factor. ------------------------------

Human: Hey Greg. Human 2: Yo. Alien: What are you doing? Human 2: Playing “Hide and go seek” with my dog Burt. Alien: *Begins looking around* Where is this- *sees Burt standing behind bench poorly hid* Alien: I can see- Human 2: Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh. Human 2: Don’t make eye contact. Alien: Why not? Human 2: Because you need to wait five minutes searching the entire park before you find him; it makes him feel like a really good boi. Alien: But why not just- *Human 2 leans in close* Human 2: So help me if you look at him before those five minutes are up and make him sad I will hit you with my car. Alien: Wait what!? Alien: You can’t be serious! Human: *nods* Dog people take their pets happiness very seriously. Alien: But to hit someone with a car? Human: *Shrugs* I once shot a guy for throwing an empty soda can at my little bugger. Alien: You take your dog’s very…..seriously, I see. Human: Is there any other way?

[revelboo]

Just dropping by to compliment your writing. Seriously, at this point your posts have basically adopted me. I LOVE everything you write! (Especially because you It made me obsessed with transformers again.) .... anyway, kisses from a Brazilian 😈😘😔💗👍👍

Aww! Thank you so much!

I felt bad and went ahead to type up the second half. The tags you guys add when you reblogged the last bit were making me feel a bit guilty.

Everything is Alright Pt 32

Starscream x Reader-guardian

• Hidden among the clouds, he circles. Can’t make himself leave you there alone, tethered to his own worries. To you. Still watching over you, because you’re so small down there standing right where he left you. Like you’re waiting on him to come back for you. Finally, you begin to walk. But you keep looking up, looking for him and it hurts more than he’d thought it would. Breaks him wide open as he wonders what you’re thinking. That he doesn’t want you anymore? That you’re not needed? He knows that feeling all too well. Hates it.

• You have no idea how far it is to town walking, but you’re already soaking wet and cold. Moving at least might keep you warm since you’re still in that stupid, thin dress. He’s not coming back. You weren’t sure what was going to become of you with him, but just being let go? Maybe to him it’s been like rehabilitating a wild animal and he’d finally decided you could be released back into the wild. Maybe he just really had gotten bored with you. Those maybes are driving you crazy. Because you’re hurt that he just threw you away.

• Because you cared about him. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shudder as lightning crackles across the sky, the wind whipping your soaking hair across your cheek in little, stinging lashes. When exactly had it stopped being a game you were playing to survive? Agreeing with him, pretending interest in his day at first, but when had you genuinely started to care? The same time you’d started smiling when he returned from his duties, because you were really happy to see him and being greeted made him happy. Made his wings lift up higher at being acknowledged. Making him happy had made you happy.

• There’s a truck approaching on the road below as he rolls through the clouds, condensation slicking him. Too high above to hear what’s said when that truck slows beside you. When you turn. Tension winding him tight when you don’t keep walking, but pull open the door and get in. Someone you know? Someone looking for you? To take you home? A friend or something else to you? It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t care, but he does.

• Shivering, you reach to angle the vents on the passenger side more directly on you as the driver cranks the heat. He’s older than you, old enough to be your dad and he’s frowning at you. Not buying that you’re okay. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. It’s been a month,” he says, tone clearly saying that he knows you haven’t just been wandering through the woods that long. That lie isn’t going to work. Apparently you’re famous in town, your face on missing persons flyers and they’d even swept the woods and had divers checking the small lake for your body.

• “I’m okay.” You’re not, but you just want to go home. Not to the police station or the hospital. Home. Your empty home. That fact has never bothered you before, but now it does. There’s no one waiting there, no one to talk to. He’s frowning at you, but he agrees to drive you home after making a call to the police, making you let them know you’re alive and found. Making you agree to go in tomorrow to explain what happened. Where you were. You don’t even have the energy to think up a lie right then.

• The guy even walks you up the drive and watches as you root around in the dirt of a very dead hanging basket of what had been impatiens a month ago to find the spare key and let yourself in. Only then does he relent and leave. You never think to ask his name, too numb and oddly empty. Around you the house is achingly silent.

• The intruder leaves and he still circles. No other vehicles. Does that mean you’re alone? No. How could you be? He transforms and lands a safe distance away, keeping low as the lights come on in the house, watching your shadow pass the windows as a dark smudge. And eventually the lights go back out. No one coming for you, because there is no one. His spark aches. He doesn’t mean to stay all night, but he can’t leave you there alone. Unwanted.

• Even if you believe he’s abandoned you, he can watch over you. Knows it’s not safe for you, but can’t make himself go. If he keeps returning here it’ll be noticed and questioned. You’ll still be in danger because of him. He knows this. And he still can’t force himself to leave you, because he is selfish. You don’t need him. But he does need you.

• Wrapping your robe around yourself as you head into the kitchen to get some coffee going, you stop short as the house creaks on its foundation. Eyes lifting to see something blocking the window. Familiar colors. Chest tight, you head outside and stare up at Starscream. He’s leaning against the house, wings drooping and optics shuttered in recharge. Like he’d spent all night outside watching over you. “You big idiot,” you sigh affectionately, your eyes burning as you reach out to touch the back of his huge hand. He hadn’t left you.

Previous Next

[puckinghischier]

Suds n Sorrows

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader comforting nico after losing the last game of the season

notes: y’all i kinda love this one 🤭. me being a cancer, i’m patiently waiting for the day i can nurture and comfort nico. that’s all. hope you enjoy !!

request: Nico coming home after that last game of the season and obviously he really needs some cheering up from his girl.

(also, i used google translate for any german present in this fic, so if its wrong, oopsies)

[2.9k]

part 2 (18+)

~

You already felt terrible you were having to miss the last game of the season, but as you watch the clock hit zero on the screen of the tv in front of you, signifying another Devil’s loss, you really wished you could be there. You think about how defeated your boys look, not being able to secure one last win for the fans this season. You watch as they skate to the middle of the ice, thanking their fans with rounded shoulders and sad smiles on their faces.

You curse your professors, hating that their review schedules for finals fell right in the middle of the end of the hockey season. You were supposed to be there tonight, supporting your friends and boyfriend; but a last-minute email from a professor informing you of a mandatory review session, starting only an hour before puck drop, threw your plans out the window.

You pick up your phone to send Nico a quick text, telling him you love him and are proud of him no matter what. You know he won’t see it right away, with post-game interviews and the added responsibility of fan-appreciation activities, he won’t be home for another hour or two at the earliest. You turn the tv off, not wanting to see the dejected looks from the team any longer.

You go to the kitchen and start to busy yourself by making one of Nico’s favorite treats, wanting to give him something to smile about when he gets home. You make plans in your head to either make something or order something to take to the rest of the team tomorrow during their locker cleanout. Once you’ve finished the task at hand and cleaned the kitchen, you make your way back into the living room, figuring Nico will be home any minute.

You were scrolling through Instagram, lost in the comments on the Devil’s most recent post about the fans, when you heard the front door to your apartment open. You sat up, turning your body to face the entry way, watching Nico walk towards you. He dropped his bag as he reached the couch, wordlessly flopping down beside you, throwing his body half on top of yours. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the comforting scent of your perfume, squeezing your body against his own.

“I’m so proud of you,” is the first thing you said to him, taking the beanie off of his head so you can run your fingers through his hair.

“Nothin’ to be proud of, Schatz. We lost. Didn’t you see?” You feel him mumble against your skin.

“Hey, now. No more pity party, alright? You still went out there and gave it everything you had. I’ll always be proud of you, win or lose,” you scold, hating when he doesn’t give himself credit for all the work he puts in for this team.

“Just wish we could’ve won one last one. For the fans. For the guys. For Jack.”

“How is he, by the way? You heard anything?” You ask about the middle Hughes, knowing how upset Nico was he wouldn’t be finishing the season with the rest of the team.

“Yeah, talked to him before the game. Sore, but good. Already trying to weasel his way back onto the ice, but Ellen has him under house arrest.”

You chuckle, causing Nico’s body to shake with yours, knowing how stubborn Jack can be.

“I swear, if he doesn’t just let himself rest and heal I’ll fly out to Michigan myself to babysit him,” you tell your boyfriend, earning a laugh in response.

The conversation falls silent soon after, the two of you just soaking in each other’s company. You had adjusted your bodies so Nico was fully laying on you now, one hand continuing to play with his hair, the other lightly tracing shapes up and down his back. You worry he’s fallen asleep until you feel him lift his head, resting his chin on your chest so he can look up at your face.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask him, looking down at his soft, sad eyes.

“Not much to say. We lost. The game, the season, the cup. We just didn’t perform this year. Got a lot to work on going forward,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes.

“Okay, when I asked if you wanted to talk about it, I didn’t mean give me locker room answers. I meant, do you want to talk about why you’re being so hard on yourself? Why you’re acting like you won’t ever play hockey again? I know how hard this is on you all, especially after the season you guys had last year, but not every year is a stellar year, Neeks. Sometimes you have to have a bad season before you know how to have a great one,” you pushed him off of you slightly, both of you sitting up so you can face each other.

“I know we can’t be great every year, Y/N, but I at least expected us to do as well as we did last year. Coming off of such an explosive season, even though we didn’t win the cup, I figured everyone would show up ready to go, ready to win some games. And then then everyone started getting injured, and the longer the season went on, something shifted. It’s like they gave up before we even got started. It’s like they didn’t even want it anymore!” Nico cries out, letting himself get worked up.

You simply nod, encouraging him to keep going, knowing he needs to get it out of his system.

“I just-“ he hesitates, calming himself from his outburst mere seconds ago. “I worry about who’ll be coming back next season. I like this team. I love these guys like they’re my brothers, and I wanted better for so many of them. Nothing is ever guaranteed in the league, and I just want to keep playing with this team. Tonight could’ve been the last time I ever stepped onto that ice with a few of them.” He continues, emotion so raw on his face you almost want to cry for him.

There it was. The real reason he’s so upset. You knew this was more than just a loss, even if it was a hard one. He hardly ever comes home and just allows the two of you to sit in silence, always going over what they could’ve done better, and what they need to work on in the future. He’s upset about losing his team. Nico always gets so attached to his players, wanting to give every person he plays with the best guidance and outcomes he can. You figure its why they made him captain.

“Oh Neeks,” you start, reaching out to grab his hands. “These guys love you, you know that, right? They want to do their best for you, always. You think they don’t beat themselves up for letting you down?” you pause, wanting your words to truly reach him. “But…you know this is always a possibility. Trades get made, contracts expire. It’s just part of the world you signed up for. I can guarantee you, nearly every one of these guys would come back next year if it was up to them. They love this team just like you do,” you reiterate, having been told this by his teammates more times than you can count. “You gave them everything you could this season. I can assure you, not a single player left that arena tonight thinking of what you could’ve done differently, instead focusing on what they could’ve done differently.”

Nico sat for a second, absorbing your words. He takes his hands from yours to place his head in them, trying to collect his thoughts.

“Wenn es nur so einfach wäre,” you hear the foreign words muffled by the sound of his hands.

“Neeks, you know I’m learning, but I have no clue what you just said,” you chuckle slightly, not knowing if he’s even aware of the language switch.

“I said, if only it was that easy. I know you’re right, I do. But I just can’t make my brain hear the words the way my ears do,” he sighs.

You look at the man in front of you with sad eyes. You wish you could carry some of this burden for him, but you can’t. At the end of the day, you don’t know what it’s like to be the captain of a hockey team. You don’t know the full extent of the pressure not only his coaches place on him, but the team management, as well.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” you coo sadly, reaching out to cup his face, his own sad, brown eyes looking into yours. “Why don’t we just relax for the rest of the night, yeah? I was thinking about a bath earlier, if you wanted to join me? I’ll add some of that bubble bath you like. The one that smells like oranges and raspberries?” You question, deciding you’d talked enough hockey tonight.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he agrees, leaning into your touch, letting his eyes flutter shut.

You lean forward to give him a small peck on his forehead before standing and making your way to the bathroom.

You make sure the temperature of the water isn’t too hot, but still wanting it to be warm enough to soothe the ache not only in Nico’s muscles, but the ache in his chest, too. You decide to light a few candles, wanting to make the space as relaxing for him as possible. The bathroom door opens as you’re lighting the last candle, Nico having already discarded most of his clothing, standing before you only in his boxers.

He closes the door behind him, walking fully into the bathroom and leaning against the counter next to you. You set the candle away from anything that could potentially catch fire, and walk over to Nico. You wrap your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against his bare chest.

The two of you stand like that for a few moments, trying to transfer every ounce of love you have for the man through the contact. Eventually he pulls back, placing his hands on your shoulder before cocking an eyebrow, eyes raking down your body at your still fully clothed figure.

“Shouldn’t you have much less clothing on if we’re meant to be taking a bath together, Schatz?” he asks, the teasing in his voice a nice change from earlier.

“Are you trying to get me naked, cap?” you try to act shocked, but you can’t help the amused smile that breaks out on your face.

“Always, Mrs. cap,” he cheekily responds, using his teammates’ nickname for you.

You step back with a giggle, undressing yourself as Nico removes what little clothing he had on. After you walk over to turn the bathroom light off, the two of you step into the steaming tub, settling into a comfortable position. Your back rests against Nico’s chest, head resting on his shoulder, his clasped hands resting on your stomach. He begins tracing shapes on your stomach like you were on his back a few minutes ago, letting the warm water heat your skin and wash the stress of the day away.

“You know, even though I’m sad the season’s over, it does mean I get to spend more time with you now,” Nico breaks the silence, head tilted to rest against yours.

You hum in response, smiling at the thought of no more early morning alarms or late-night interruptions when he gets home from a roadie. You daydream about lazy mornings and breakfast in bed, something the two of you don’t get to indulge in nearly enough. You open your eyes, the thought reminding you of the treat you made Nico before his arrival home, nearly forgetting about the baked good sitting in your kitchen.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I baked you a little something before you got home!” you sat up a bit, water splashing around you.

“You did? What ever for?” Nico asks, eyes widening a bit at your sudden burst of enthusiasm.

“Just because. Knew you had a hard day, wanted to make sure you had something sweet to brighten it up a bit,” you shrugged.

“Not necessary. Not with the promise of getting to come home to you already.”

Your cheeks flush red, never really getting used to the sweet words Nico always throws your way.

“Well, I guess you don’t want any Luzerner….Luzerner…Leb…” You start, but can’t remember how to pronounce the Swiss dessert. You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, aggravated with yourself and your lack of fluency in Swiss-German.

“Luzerner Lebkuchen?” Nico finished for you.

“Yeah…that.” You roll your eyes at his perfect pronunciation.

“You really made it for me? From scratch?”

“Mhmm. Used your mom’s recipe. I hope it turned out. I didn’t want to cut into it to try it before you got home. Wanted to surprise you.”

Nico’s heart swelled at the confession, amazed that you’d go through all of that effort just for him. It wasn’t an easy dish to perfect, by no means. It took his mom years to get her gingerbread cake perfectly moist and flavorful. Regardless of how it tastes, he’ll savor it like it’s the last food on earth, simply because you made it for him.

“Well consider me surprised,” Nico murmurs, leaning in to kiss you.

You love moments like these. Lost in Nico, the two of you in your own little world. No hockey, no schoolwork, no responsibilities. Just two people hopelessly in love with each other, soaking in every ounce of affection the other has to offer.

Nico runs his hand down your back, causing your body to shiver at the contact. He pulls you closer, his other hand coming to tangle itself in your hair, tugging just enough to cause your mouth to open in a gasp, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues fight one another, his winning the struggle for dominance in the end, a groan working its way out of his throat. When he starts to move his hand lower down your back, grabbing the flesh of your ass in the process, you pull back, lips swollen and out of breath.

“Nope. Slow your roll, hot stuff. This was meant to be a relaxing bath, not a sex and suds party,” you push him back by the shoulders, earning a pout from the man across from you.

“But, a sex and suds party sounds pretty relaxing to me. No better way to unwind after a hard day than watching your face as I make you cu-“

“Nope! Not happening right now! Keep it up and it won’t be happening at all tonight,” You warn, turning back around to resume your earlier position, hands resting over his on your stomach to keep them from wandering.

Nico laughs, finding amusement in your commitment to the relaxing bath you promised him. He places a kiss to your temple, deciding to leave it alone for now, knowing he’ll revisit the subject later.

The two of you sit in the warm tub until the water runs cold, talking about anything that crosses your minds. From your upcoming finals to summer destinations you’d love to visit, the security of your bubble filled world allowing no room for hockey talk or stressful situations to infiltrate the delicate space.

After you start shivering, having put up with the cold water for as long as you could, Nico reaches forward to drain the tub, deciding that its time the two of you get out and dry off. You step out of the tub, reaching for the towels you had placed on the closed lid of the toilet seat, grabbing one for yourself before handing one to Nico. The two of you dry off your bodies, no sound other than the draining tub in the room. You look over to Nico, towel wrapped around his waist, and admire the man you love. You love him for so much more than his physique, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the cherry on top of the already perfect soul before you.

Before he catches you staring and gets anymore ideas, you look away and wrap your own towel around your body, trying to shield yourself from the cool air on your damp skin.

“Thank you, Schatz,” Nico breaks the silence, causing you to look up at him, noticing he had closed the distance between the two of you, reaching out to place a piece of hair behind your ear, hand falling to your cheek.

“For what?”

“For always being here when I need someone. For always knowing exactly what I need, even before I do. For being you,” he states, referencing the many times you’ve been his sanity after days like today, always managing to take his mind off of his troubles and filling his head with thoughts of you, instead.

“Always,” you turn your head, placing a kiss on his palm before placing your cheek back against his palm, flashing Nico one of your loving smiles.

“Now, what about digging into that cake I made you? It’s not going to eat itself, you know?” you perk up, wanting to find out if you efforts paid off or not.

“Oh, I have a different kind of dessert I’d rather dig into, if you don’t mind,” Nico smirks, watching your eyes widen as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, laughing at your squeal as he heads towards the door of the bathroom, ready to savor his sweet treat.

[bloodibambiidoll]

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

[foreingersgod]

babes ur writing is so good , can you write something where the reader is going to indiana with caitlin but is nervous that cait will forget about her ???

*i think i interpreted this wrong so i’m so sorry lmao

Champagne Coast . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: request ^

A/N: y’all i’m so sorry for how long this took me!! and i feel like my writing has really deteriorated so please give me feedback and let me know if you like it or totally hate it lmao, thanks for your patience!!

also sorry i had to use YN like ONCE !!

wc: 10.6k

Finishing eight or nine?

Tell me, what's the perfect time?

your bowl had been placed in the dishwasher long ago, countertop cleaned and leftovers placed in the nearly empty fridge. dinner was growing cold and you hadn’t cared to wait, opting to eat alone yet again before residing in the living room. the tv played in the background with some arbitrary doctors show from the 90s as you sat patiently watching the clock. the hands were beginning to collect dust, you noticed, though it had only been up for a few months upon your move to indiana. each tick seems to mock you the more time dragged on.

she was supposed to be home long ago. practice would have been done at 8 or 9 and it was now approaching 11. this is what it always was, waiting up for her well into the night when the street lamps turned on and the sky grew dark. and you’d wait up like you always did as you were unable to sleep without her. especially in this new home, new bed, new sheets, new life. it never quite bothered you that caitlin would show up late every once and awhile, but it had started to become a habit, and you were left cold and alone. pestering her about being home at a certain time wasn’t fair to her by any means, knowing that she was just going and getting to know her team some more. but recently it felt like you were navigating this milestone in your life by yourself-your girlfriend hardly around to comfort your racing mind.

when caitlin had been drafted, you knew immediately in your heart that it was going to be rough. change was something of a challenge for you and it terrified you more than anything. you recalled sitting at that table, hearing her name announced and the deafening cheers, thinking about how excited you were for her. and even though you were thrilled for her, you couldn’t help but think about how your perfect world was going to slowly crumble. caitlin insisted that things wouldn’t fall apart, just adjust for the future you were going to build together. but now you were here, in this house-not home-trying to convince yourself that all of it was true.

suddenly, you were pulled from your period of musing when the lock of the front door clicked. it was followed by the faint creaking of hinges, old brass from the 70s, your land lord had claimed. you thought she was full of shit. weary eyes traveled to the opening door to see a very tired caitlin walking in. her hair was tousled, post practice shirt just slightly wrinkled, the slightest bags under her eyes that she insisted weren’t there. she was struggling with the move just as much as you, though she’s never admit it.

“hey,” you uttered just enough to be heard over the television. feelings of your isolation had begun to dissipate the moment you saw your girl, relief running through your veins “you’re home”

“yea” she cleared her throat as she let her bag fall to the floor. the squeak of her shoes echoed against the walls when she toed them off, eventually setting them on the rack beside the door. there was an uneasiness laced in her voice you had picked up on. she didn’t seem angry nor irritated, but she was far from her usual self when she was home. she’d typically be thrilled to see you, ready to be in your arms again and let the stress from the day wash off. you were the first thing she’d looked for when she stepped across the threshold. but tonight, her eyes were hesitant to find yours.

“are you alright?” you watched as she shuffled into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, skipping over the leftovers that you had considerately set aside just for her. her favorite meal dished into the nicest tupperware you owned. her slim figure leaned against the cool marble countertop, taking a swig of the water “you seem a bit…off”

“just tired” she glanced at you, locking eyes for what felt like the first time since she’d been home. a weak smile made its way onto her lips as she studied your position on the couch. you couldn’t lie, she did look tired, but part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that had been consuming you for months. the distance that basketball had created made it feel like you and caitlin were living separate lives, when really, this should be something you tackled together. you couldn’t blame her for any of it even if you wanted to, just hoping that things would go back to the way they were.

you wished she were home more, that her presence would provide you some sort of reassurance. maybe just to convince you that you weren’t going insane, liked you were trapped within these walls for a reason other than her career. it had been a while since you felt like you were living a life that didn’t solely revolve around caitlin’s.

“okay” you smiled back bitterly without pressing any further. any energy you had for a conversation like that had left your body hours ago. reaching for the remote and lifting yourself off the couch, you motioned to the stairwell. considering she didn’t even acknowledge the food, you assumed settling down for the night was what you both needed “ready for bed?”

she blinked rapidly, kissing her teeth silently when she noticed the annoyance in your voice. guilt consumed her as she saw the look on your face, the twinge of desire lost from your eyes.

“mhm” she hummed in agreement as she followed you upstairs to the bedroom.

maybe you both just needed some sleep, caitlin thought. neither of you were mad nor cross with each other, but you’d be fools if you didn’t sense the tension in the air. things had been different for quite some time now, all of it too confusing to address, leaving you to wallow in the awkwardness for days now. but if there was any time, any place, where all that was left at the door? it would be here with each other in bed. it was something of a safe haven, nothing else mattered when you left your worries at the door and held each other tightly.

like clockwork, you stripped of your typical daywear down to your lace panties and one of caits t-shirts. it had a worn down high school logo on it, the design fading from the countless times it had been through the wash. she, likewise, pulled her sweaty gym shirt off her body to replace it with one from her closet. you crawled under the covers whilst you took off your earrings, setting them on the small tray on your nightstand-something you picked out at target when you and caitlin went decor shopping for the new apartment. you had barely noticed caitlin also climbing into bed as the memory of that day overtook you. no words were exchanged as you both settled into the sheets, pulling the thick duvet over your shoulders and finally letting your muscles relax. it was only when a pair of burley arms wrapped around your waist, a familiar nose prodding against your collarbone, did the silence break.

“love you” caitlin whispered, breath warm on your skin “m’sorry i was late tonight and that i missed dinner. i’ll make it up to you”

“s’ok cait,” you murmured, sleep tugging at your eyelids. you brought a hand up to her head as you raked your fingers through her hair, she always loved it when you did “i love you too”

it mattered not what she did to make it up to you. she could do anything in the world, buy you countless gifts, take you on a million trips, but it wouldn’t change the one thing your heart desired for.

her.

I told you I'll be waiting

Hiding from the rainfall

trying to navigate to the locker room was a difficult task, having to push past the cheering crowds in a stadium you weren’t familiar with. you were surrounded by a blur of seattle’s green and yellow jerseys as you looked for any sort of path to follow. indiana had just taken quite the loss against the storm and you knew, the second you heard the buzzer sound, that you needed to find caitlin as soon as possible. eventually, you found where you needed to be and beelined for the locker room, hoping she hadn’t already gone looking for you.

the large metal doors stood tall in front of you when you arrived at the locker room entrance. the shift from the excitement out on the stadium floor to this quiet displeasure was staggering and you weren’t even inside yet. whatever you were about to be faced with would break your heart, you could already see it now. you pictured caitlin sitting down, head in her hands as she tapped her foot anxiously and made her best attempt to hold back her tears. she had been struggling with everything recently-the move, the new team, the continuous losses-it was slowly chipping away at her.

however, after pushing the doors open and stepping inside, it was quite the opposite from what you expected. the doors clicked shut behind you, causing the noise to reverberate around the desolate room as you took in the sight before you. and just as you imagined, your heart slowly began to twinge. caitlin sat there on the bench alone, head leaned against her locker as her chest heaved up and down. tears cascaded down her face and her lip quivered the more she sobbed. wispy strands of hair stuck to her forehead from all the sweat and her hands clutched the sides of her head in frustration. you had never seen her in such a state. caitlin was typically reserved, even with you, not wanting to be open and vulnerable. but here you were, seeing her with all of her guards down.

“caitlin” you breathed, immediately rushing over to her. you fell to your knees, body slotting between her thighs. shaky hands came to rest on her legs hesitantly as to not make matters worse “hey, hey what’s going on baby?”

she made a weak attempt at looking at you, tears blurring her vision. a hiccup escaped her chapped lips when she felt your soothing touch on her clammy skin. caitlin couldn’t even manage the words, thoughts lost in her own mind, only tangling more as she continued her cries. she managed to push herself off the locker, letting herself collapse into you as she shook her head. something to signal her unwillingness to talk. her large arms and heavy torso clashed against you as you enveloped her into a hug. warm tears dropped onto your shoulder as she pressed her cheek into your clavicle, creating a damp spot on your indiana fever t-shirt.

“shhh, i know you’re upset,” you rubbed circles onto her back, palm running across the fabric of her jersey “but i need you to talk to me, i can’t make it better if you won’t tell me”

“i just-” she croaked, voice wavering “i feel like…like a failure”

your body went stiff, the movements of your hand stopping momentarily. you hoisted her back up to face her in disbelief. the confession had taken you aback-not that caitlin had been anything but humble, but she knew how amazing she was, of her immense impact on the sport. to hear that word tumble from her lips, masked by a series of desperate whimpers, was enough to break you.

“caitlin,” you dragged on, feeling yourself at a loss for words. everyone thought so highly of your girl and it crushed you to hear her say those words “you are so far from that”

you watched her throat bob as she swallowed harshly. she tugged at the bottom of her jersey, bringing it up to her face to wipe some of the sweat away. in reality it was just an excuse to hide her blood shot eyes. another shake took possession of caitlin’s head to deny your statement.

“yea well my performance begs to differ”

“one bad game isn’t-”

“it’s not just one game” she cut you off before you could even begin to disagree. she had stopped crying by now, intense emotions now overtaken by aggravation “it’s several games. i keep fucking up. missing shots, turning over the ball-shit”

her rambles trailed off in a rampage of huffs and groans, her breath hot as she breathed angrily out of nose. she was always too hard on herself, lost in the heat of the moment and not giving herself any grace for all the hard work she’s put in thus far. it was a topic that began to consume your daily life. caitlin couldn’t seem to shake off the struggles of the day, in turn bringing them home where they became your baggage as well. of course you didn’t mind being there for your girl-hell, you’d do anything for her no matter what-but it was all starting to get exhausting.

you hated that you had these thoughts in the first place, feeling like a bad partner because you couldn’t bare the repetition of these conversations. time after time after time again you’d beat yourself up over it. caitlin deserved the world and more, but you deserved that just as much and these restless nights weren’t providing that. you didn’t even know what to say anymore, torn between how you wanted to proceed.

“there’s a lot on your plate,” you reassured, getting off your knees and taking a seat next to her on the bench. caitlin’s head automatically went to your shoulder as you took one of her hands in yours “you’re just starting out…don’t be so hard yourself. i know it’s rough, but you’re doing what you can and that’s what makes you so amazing. give yourself some grace, babe”

“i know but,” she sniffled, feeling a sense of calmness rush over her as you toyed with her fingers. it kept her distracted, grounded her for the time being “i don’t know, i’ve just been wanting to be the best all the time-for everyone-and i can barley even keep my head straight”

“i think i can speak for everyone when i say you’ve blown us all away” you traced along her lengthy fingers “your fans, your family, me…we’re all so proud of how far you’ve come”

she sighed deeply, you could practically feel the relief dispersing in her veins. in trying times like this, this is exactly what she needed. you were the shoulder to cry on, the answer to all her problems.

“you always know what to say”

she was right, you did. you’d always have the most thoughtful response lined up, no matter the reason or time. partially because it came so naturally to you, having an empathetic heart since forever, but partially from the consistency of these conversations. you couldn’t even count on your fingers the amount of times you’d sit with caitlin on tough nights, rubbing her back and whispering softly in her ear to bring her back to reality.

“well it’s the truth” you chimed “i’m always going to be here for you, cait”

you always are.

she offered you a smile through puffy pink lips, sore from biting them in strain. caitlin found the strength to pull away from you as her hands left yours, only to plant them right back onto your cheeks. her hands felt heavy on your skin when she brought your face to hers gently. your lips met in a sharp yet delicate kiss, caitlin eager to feel you against her again. but it hadn’t felt usual to you, as your bottom lip caught between her teeth and as your tongue collided with hers. it lacked that passion, that thrill of reveling in your lovers embrace. what was once fire was now a mere ember is a pool of spreading ash. you had feared this feeling for quite sometime although you’d never admit it, it felt as if she was slipping through your fingers.

bit by bit.

Tell me, what's the joy of giving

if you're never pleased?

she had changed.

locking herself away and distancing herself further from you as the season went on. she had always been hard on herself, but even then, she knew when enough was enough and what her limits were. but it seemed that after each game, she lost control of herself more and more. you had never seen her be so critical, so judgmental about her abilities.

it was hard to watch one of the most important people in your life shut themselves away. you wanted nothing more than to be there for her, but she put on the same facade each time and claimed that it as a slump to overcome. but could you really call it a slump when it was starting to weasel its way into the foundations of your relationship?

you hated to think it, but you felt neglected; your wellbeing didn’t feel like it was a priority to caitlin anymore. she used to be so sweet, attentive and caring when you were back in iowa. you wished that you were just as important as basketball. but the mere thought of accusing her of abandoning you seemed harsh when you considered bringing it up to her, because in all fairness, she was undergoing one of the biggest milestones in her life. but that didn’t mean that pushing you aside was fair either. you were taking care of the apartment, running all the errands, helping her balance her schedule, comforting her every single night as she saught after you for solace…and then managing your own life on top of that.

some days it felt like she didn’t even bat an eye at the lengths you went for her. how her laundry was done and set on her dresser, how dinner was made each night, how you picked up her favorite protein powder at the grocery store because you noticed that she was running low? she had began to expect it the more you pushed, not even offering so much as a ‘thank you’ or any regard of appreciation.

you could only give so much with little in return, you need her just as much as she needed you.

On my last strength against you

Baby, tell me what you need

you were happy for her, truly you were. it was so rewarding to see caitlin bond with her team and start to navigate her place in the W. she was beginning to believe in herself and that’s all a girlfriend could want for her partner. but something continued to gnaw at you.

you were doing everything in your power to make more time for caitlin-even if it should be the other way around. maybe by clearing up your schedule, it would make it easy for caitlin to make time for you. but you were sorely mistaken, you couldn’t force someone to make time for something that barely crossed their mind. and perhaps it was a foolish thought. an accusation a bit too cruel, but it was hard to watch caitlin celebrate life without you when most of it was owed to you. no one else served as her backbone, her crutch as she climbed her way to the top.

it was a bittersweet feeling for the most part. you smiled when seeing all the team pictures posted on instagram, chuckling lightly when caitlin retold stories of practices as she got ready for bed each night-the only time you seemed to get with her nowadays. but then there were the tears when you ate meals alone at the head of the table, staring off into the empty seat where she should be sat. and of course the mornings where you didn’t feel like getting out of bed because facing reality of your crumbling relationship was too much to bare.

it was an unfair truth; as she glances off in another direction, you’ll be glancing back to her.

Young as I want to know

I will never let you go

“baby?” her voice felt foreign in your ear. you hadn’t heard that pet name in a while.

“hm?” you responded mindlessly, unable to form a genuine reaction.

you were sat on the balcony of you apartment, the sliding glass doors open behind you. it would let the autumn chill into the house, you told caitlin many times to not leave it open. but she disregarded your commands as she leaned against the frame of the door. you had a small blanket draped over your lap to protect your bare legs from the nippy weather of the changing seasons, your chin resting on your palm as you over looked the view of indiana. your mind felt blank and overcrowded at the same time and trying to clear your head with some fresh air didn’t seem to help at all.

you hadn’t realized she would be home so soon. after all it was 5:00 on a friday evening, you presumed she’d be out with the team or running extra drills with aliyah, hell even at a media event of some sorts. you never knew what it was anymore with her. she didn’t bother to text or update you, most times you only knew of her whereabouts from socials or her family.

“are you ok?” she asked again “it’s freezing out here, you should be inside”

“it’s too stuffy” you sighed, inhaling sharply as the breeze brought in another gust “i can’t be in there right now”

you felt her tense up behind you, the image of her shoving her hands into her pockets formed in your peripheral. this was the most you two had interacted in a while, but your moody attitude appeared sudden to caitlin.

“why not?”

“jus’ can’t”

an unsteady silence filled the atmosphere. the only noises left to be heard were the sniffling of your red and runny nose and the traffic blaring below the apartment complex. you had hoped she’d leave you alone and walk back inside. the optimism of trying had started to disappear and you didn’t think you had much fight left in you. you planned to savor the last bits of energy you had to keep this alive, although today didn’t feel like one of those days. you continued to look out into the distance when she finally moved. you felt the spot next to you plunge as she took a seat.

“you never answered me,” her hand came to rest reassuringly on your thigh. despite the blanket that separated your skin, the contact still felt cold “are you doing ok?”

she had already picked up on your weariness, you were never so shut off when you were with her. but you couldn’t pretend to care when she couldn’t either.

“mhm” everything in you fought to not make it sound so obvious, the sound of your heart breaking as you croaked out the words “i’m good”

caitlin was doing so well and you couldn’t bring yourself to be the bitchy girlfriend that was groveling for attention. you weren’t okay, your relationship wasn’t, but if you just sat in the quiet and let it blow over then maybe it would be. you feared being seen as selfish and you felt guilty as you pushed caitlin away with your short answer.

she huffed, pulling her hand away from you as she hunched over her self, elbows on her knees and head in her hands.

“weeks ago you were talking about how excited you were for fall” she muttered “so that you could put out decorations and we could cuddle up on the couch and watch those old scary movies you love so much”

you allowed yourself to look in her direction, noticing how her face was covered by her beautiful long hair. but you didn’t need to see her to know that she wasn’t pleased.

“but the house looks the same and you’ve been sitting on the balcony every day even though you know it’s gonna make you sick” she craned her neck to look out across the city and you could see the trail of tears in her eyes. just glossy, but not enough to fall “it doesn’t sound like you’re ok”

you couldn’t do this, not right now.

“i’m sorry” you breathed “i understand your concern. i just think i’m a little stressed is all you know? just got a lot going on right now and i guess my focus has just been elsewhere. i’m sorry”

a nearly complete lie, all your focus had been on her these days.

“no need to be, i get it, and you know you can always talk to me about these things. but you gotta come inside, babe” she prodded “you’ll catch a cold”

with reluctance, you gave into her request and pushed the blanket off your lap. caitlin watched as you folded it and draped it over your arm before taking your hand and guiding you inside. the warmth and the calming pumpkin scent of your candle enveloped you like a hug, putting you at ease for the time being.

the both of you fell back into your typical routine almost instantly. no words were exchanged as she headed upstairs to shower, and you moseying into the kitchen to start on dinner. some polite conversation was made when caitlin came back downstairs with wet hair and freshly moisturized skin to help you finish dinner, but that’s as far as it went. no hugs from behind as you stood at the stove, no kisses on the neck, no laughter that was pure enough to make your stomach hurt. but it was simple and it was nice, enough to hold you over until the rubber band holding you together finally snapped.

Trading a baseball lover as I face the snow

“alright,” you said as you walked into the living room, heels padding against the carpet of the hallway and your dress itching at the skin on your legs. your fingers fiddled with your last earring, making you huff in relief when the clasp finally shut “i’m ready!”

it was date night tonight, the first in what felt like years, and there weren’t any words that could describe how ecstatic you were. just the thought of some much needed bonding time with caitlin gave you hope. yes times have been tough, but there wasn’t anything a little quality time (and maybe some good sex) couldn’t fix. you had been planning this night for sometime, making sure you both had the evening off and meticulously scheduling every last minute of the night. you were optimistic that tonight would open up a new door for progress.

but when you walked into the living room, your heart sunk. here you were, all dolled up with the prettiest smile on your face, waltzing into the most disappointing sight.

caitlin sat on the couch, legs spread and back against the soft cushions. she had her phone in hand, hair pulled back like always…and most definitely in a dirty tee shirt from her hamper and a pair of sweats. certainly not date attire, you knew.

“cait” you stood blankly “it’s 7:00”

“uh yea” she responded, only looking up from her phone for a moment, then quickly doing a double take once she realized your physical state “what’s with the dress? i mean you look as beautiful as always but-”

“are you serious?” you scoffed. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. never in a million years did you think this would happen in your relationship. caitlin wasn’t like that.

“what do you mean ‘am i serious’?” she was taken aback, frustration already evident on her face as her checks glowed a shade of red “i just asked a fucking question”

“you really don’t know?” shoulders slumping when you realized she actually did forget.

she shook her head, brows furrowing as she awaited your response. a quick “no” fell from her lips.

“is the 24th caitlin” you chewed at your lip nervously, trying to hold back tears. you voice wavered as it caught it your throat, making you sound weak and defeated “our date?”

the color drained from her face in seconds, gaze softening and lips downturned. she was off the couch in seconds as she stumbled towards you, bringing your hands into hers. but you pulled them away swiftly and shot her a glare. you were done with the excuses, done with being left in the dust

“babe, i’m so sorry” she shook her head and brushed off the sting that came with your reluctance to her touch “i totally spaced, i could’ve sworn it was next week”

“i’ve been talking about this for months, caitlin” the words stumbled out from gritted teeth, jaw clenched in anger. you had no idea what to say anymore.

she gulped deeply as she looked down to her feet, she was in the doghouse for sure. although you’d consider her fate to be much worse than that. you began to sniffle upon her silence. could she really not manage to say anything right now?

“let me make it up to you” she tried to compromise. part of her knew she’d never be able to outlive this, but she was delusional enough to still believe she could somehow fix it.

“no,” you breathed, bending down to take off your heels. there wasn’t even a point in salvaging this tonight “just forget it”

“no really, you’re upset and this meant a lot to you and i want to fix it”

that was your breaking point. perhaps she didn’t mean it that way, but did she really only see this as something important to you? did she care at all about spending time with you? you wouldn’t be dumb to think that she wouldn’t, she had hardly done anything recently to make you think otherwise.

“really?” you sneered again, there was nothing holding you back anymore. you tossed your shoes onto the couch, leaving them as a problem for later “you want to fix this because it meant a lot to me?”

caitlin tried to study your facial features as she said nothing yet again. she couldn’t tell if you were genuinely mad or just annoyed, willing to forgive or prepared to hold this against her. she noticed the deepened tones of your cheeks and nose, the twitch of your left eyebrow, and the motion of your tongue darting out to sooth the previous bites on your lip. she had never seen you this mad, not in the eternity she had known you. you were such a sweet and loving person, incapable of talking bad about someone or staying mad for long. but she’d be damned if it felt you hadn’t changed within a second.

“i thought you would’ve cared too” you continued “you know, since i’m your girlfriend and you should also want to spend time with me”

“i do spend time with you”

“the fuck you do”

“what the hell does that mean?” she questioned angrily “of course i do, i’ve just been busy”

“please enlighten me then” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes “when was the last time we spent time together?”

“well what about tuesday, huh? when we, uh..when we watched that movie before bed? or when we both went to the team dinner the other night? that was spending time together wasn’t it?”

“no i watched the movie, you barely talked to me all night and the crawled into bed and went to sleep with your back turned,” you choked up as you recalled the memory, you remembered how much it broke your heart. your fingers came to pinch the bridge of your nose as the familiar sting of tears washed over you. “and really, the team dinner? you call that spending time? is it really that if you just chat with your buddies the whole night? you practically ignored me the entire time”

she kissed her teeth at you, clearly aggravated, but deep down she knew you were right. she hadn’t been good to you at all these last few months. and if she were to really be fair to herself, she’d have to admit that it was taking a toll on her too. she didn’t know why she was doing this, why she was acting this way, but she had already made her bed and she’d have to lie in it. this was a habit she knew she’d been baring for quite some time, pulling away when things got hard, leaving her loved ones to cope with the pain from her mistakes. and it broke her heart each time, but with you, it was like she was losing air.

“i’m trying here, alright?” her throat was dry as she tried to give you some poor excuse. she was too caught up in her own shame that she was digging her grave deeper.

“look caitlin,” you glared “i don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but i’m tired. trying just won’t cut it. i know you’ve felt the distance too, we haven’t been normal for a while now and it’s killing me. i can’t eat alone every night, have you come home just to ignore me, and the only time i get with you is under the public eye or with your friends. i know you have shit going on, cait, but you keep pushing me further and further away from you and i don’t know how much longer i can take it. i’m here for you time and time again and you can’t find it in yourself to set aside one fucking night for me”

you chewed at your lip, carefully navigating your next move before continuing.

“i left my entire life behind for you, caitlin. my friends, my family, everything that i have ever known. i left it all to be here with you and support you. and the fact that i spend every day mourning you when you’re in the same house is suffocating, i just can’t do it”

body shaking with anticipation, you looked down at your bare feet. you couldn’t bring yourself to look her in the eyes anymore. before you could stop it, sobs racked your body, tears cascading down your face. the emotions were too much to handle.

“babe-” she cooed, voice softening upon your confession. she’d never felt so disappointed in herself.

“stop,” you said meekly, cutting her off through your own sniffles. you forced yourself to look at her briefly, wiping away the mascara that had definitely accumulated under your eyes. whatever she had to say, you couldn’t hear it tonight. whether it be an apology or total rejection, the end to this period of suffering was about to end and you weren’t ready to deal with it head on yet “i think we need some time, caitlin. i just-i’m too upset and i’m hurting and i think time will do us some good”

“wait what?”

“you need to work out your shit. i don’t know, i think i’ll go to one of my friends places or something for a while..because i can’t put myself through anymore of this”

“no,” it came out as a blurt, her mouth moving before she could think. although she wouldn’t want to think, the image of you leaving plaguing her mind already “please, no, we can figure this out! god, fuck- just please don’t leave me”

you watched her slowly breakdown, she was becoming increasingly hysteric as begged you to stay. you gulped hard when she started crying along with you, another one of the few times she had shown you this side of her. it pained you to see the sight, your instincts told you to take it all back and reassure her everything was ok. but you had to keep your head high and remind yourself that things wouldn’t be ok if you didn’t look out for yourself, even if that included stepping away from caitlin for a few days.

“i’m not…i’m not leaving you, cait. just gonna take some time away, we both need to think about how this relationship is going to continue. and i can’t have an open mind if the cycle continues. but i promise it’s not goodbye, ok?”

she breathed through staggered hiccups, trying to force her body to relax. she couldn’t stand to be without you, even if it didn’t seem like it these past few months. her calloused hand came up to run down her face, taking the tears with it in an attempt to calm down.

“yea” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. she hated this, but she knew you both needed the time. you were always right “yea, ok”

and with that, you reluctantly stalked to the bedroom to pack a bag for a few days. shoving random shirts and shorts into the small duffel, avoiding the ones that you’d previously stolen from caitlin over the years. she had opted to sulk alone in the living room, bracing herself by sitting on the couch. she still couldn’t process any of this, the fact that she wouldn’t be with you for more than a day made her sick. even more sick at the fact that you couldn’t talk this out right away, you’d both have to navigate your feelings alone for a while.

she was perched at the edge of the couch, knee bouncing at an alarming rate. her gaze was fixed at the wall in front of her, staring at the variety of pictures that you’d hung on the wall. some of you both when you were younger, others of pictures with your families, and a few from the vacations and holidays you two shared since you’d been together. but her favorite ones, the ones she couldn’t bring herself to look away from, where the one of just you both. her eyes flickered across each and everyone, looking at the way you smiled at her, eyes almost welling up again when she saw how happy you guys were. she’d do anything to have those moments back, go back in time and stop herself from treating you so horribly.

she was disrupted from her period of musing when she heard you walk down the stairs for the second time tonight. you came into view with a bang slung across your shoulder, high heels replaced with a beat up pair of converse. you grabbed your keys as you stopped momentarily to give caitlin a saddened look, lips drawn in an apologetic smile. but you had nothing to be sorry for, caitlin thought when she gave you a similar look in return.

“hey,” she said before you could reach the front door. you turned your head, hand resting on the knob. desperation lingered in her eyes “i love you, and i’m so fucking sorry”

you dipped your head and pursed your lips, letting her know of your approval before fully opening the door and beginning a solemn ascent to your friends apartment.

“i know”

On my last strength against you

Baby, tell me what you need

it had been 6 days. 6 agonizingly long days.

she had nothing but time to think, and yet, she couldn’t seem to gather her thoughts at the same time. her mind was everywhere, bouncing from regret and guilt, to anger and dissatisfaction, and of course the remorse and pain. this is what caitlin was afraid of doing, pushing herself so far away that it had finally gotten to you. she’d gotten caught up in her head so deep that she failed to realize how much you were hurting. she’d never forgive herself for this.

everything felt gloomier without you, she noticed that now. there was a certain comfort in you being there, even if she did ignore you and push you to the side, you’d always be there and she abused that luxury. from the moment you left the essence of your shared home shifted uncomfortably. it was like a storm had unleashed its wicked winds to reign terror over the household, dulling your spirt that had kept it so pleasant and welcoming.

but she had to admit, the time was good. she needed to sit and make a change, promise herself that she’d get better for you. even if that did mean she’d have to sleep alone for a few nights, order takeout because her cooking would never amount to yours, brush her teeth before bed and come home from practice with you nowhere in sight. it was a necessary torture, but only temporary, she reminded herself. maybe she’d never know why she was acting the way she was, have to come to terms with the fact that she’s a shitty girlfriend and doesn’t deserve the apology she hoped you were willing to give. but despite knowing or not knowing, at least she could catch the poison that was her troubled subconscious before it could sink too deep. it was time to give up the self loathing and internal ridiculing. she wouldn’t let herself hurt you anymore

caitlin had always struggled with holding herself to an unachievable standard, convincing herself that she would never be enough or worthy of all this attention. she couldn’t believe that so many people wanted to watch her play, that she was first pick and that she was finally playing pro like she always wanted-part of her thought it was too good to be true. but she didn’t want to wake up from this implausible dream, forcing herself to go above and beyond just to hold onto it. and in the process, she’d forgotten to make time for you too. it was foolish, to ignore you like she had, you were her everything. every waking moment, at every practice and at every game, you consumed the entirety of her mind. at the end of the day, she was doing this all for you.

it was easy to get lost in the fame and the excitement and the pressure, but it shouldn’t have been enough to make her neglect you. nonetheless, she managed to do it anyways. so she took these 6 days to reflect and really target why she felt like she needed to act like this. she would go to the ends of the earth for you, willing to pick herself apart if it meant making it up to you.

Come into my bedroom

Come into my bedroom

her foot tapped nervously against the coir fiber of your friends doormat. a faded “welcome” written in black felt contradictory as she tried to find the motivation to knock. you hadn’t texted or called, hadn’t reached out to caitlin at all to let her know you were ready. but she needed you like she needed air and just had to see you. she had to finally apologize for how terrible she was acting, beg for your forgiveness because being away from you was eating her alive.

she let out a shaky breath as her closed fist met with the white wooden door, sending a loud pounding noise through the other side. caitlin could hear your friends dog barking and scratching against the door, followed by rushed footsteps that got increasingly closer. she barley had a moment to regather her thoughts before the door was pulled open harshly.

“caitlin?” your friend came into view, disheveled as she tried to keep her dog from running out the door. she quirked her eyebrows at caitlin’s presence, shocked and confused-and definitely a little angry-as to why she was at her door “what’re you doing here?”

“i um,” caitlin cleared her throat as if to stall, wanting more time to think of the right thing to say “i was hoping i could talk to-”

“i don’t think she’s ready to see you, cait” your friend muttered, trying to keep her voice down so you couldn’t hear. and you probably didn’t, caitlin was extremely aware of that.

“i know i know” caitlin urged “but i just need to see her ok? i need to make this right”

your friend chewed at the inside of her cheek as if contemplating her next move. you were her best friend and she’d do anything to protect you. after a few seconds, she shook her head and began closing the door, offering caitlin an apology and a goodbye as caitlin continued to beg for just one chance.

“no please, just let me see her! just a few minutes!” she said louder this time, slotting her sneaker clad foot in the doorway “i just need a second i swear to god-”

your friend put all she could into getting caitlin to leave, trying to push her out the door as quickly as possible. but she was persistent and continued her pleas.

somewhere in between the endless banter, through caitlin’s desperate cries and your friends agitated dismissals, came the answer to caitlin’s prayers. you were napping in the guest bedroom when she walked up the steps to your friends home, having been exhausted from sobbing throughout the night. just like caitlin, you hated sleeping alone. but your efforts to seek out peace were quickly interrupted when you heard subtle shouts from the the other room. curious and worried when you heard your friend raise her voice, you hurried to see what the commotion was all about.

you were surprised to the see the scene unfolding in front of you. your friend wrangling the door shut as her legs fought to keep the dog at bay, cussing out whoever was behind the door. you could’ve about laughed at her antics until you suddenly realized who it was that she was trying to shut out. you had assumed maybe an ex or maybe even a family member would have been the culprit, but the long silky black hair that glimmered through the gap in the door quickly corrected you.

“caitlin?” you questioned just as your friend had before. you stood back a few feet front the door, although your voice was loud enough to make the both of them stop.

their heads both whipped in your direction, the door creaking open wider so you could see her in full view. your friend huffed, rambling about how she thought you were asleep and how she was sorry that they had woken you up. but you discarded her as your eyes locked with your girlfriends. there was a certain look of grief in her eyes, the color almost fogging over in despair. your head told you to look away, the sight too depressing to stand, but your heart yearned for her nonetheless, unable to tear your eyes from her.

“YN” she spoke. it was like a cliche movie scene, like out of a fairytale, when the prince sees his princess in her natural beauty for this first time. whist she was hardly a prince and you hardly looked the part of a princess, the feeling was all the same. that feeling of reassurance and love. you were here, right here in front of her in your pajamas and bunny slippers, and suddenly she felt some sort of relief wash over her.

you walked over to them, assuring your friend that it was ok and asking her to give you some privacy. she walked away hesitantly after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze. she shot caitlin a disapproving glare as she disappeared back into the house. you ushered caitlin to follow you out to the front porch, motioning to the swing that croaked in the afternoon breeze.

“what’re you doing here cait?” you asked, not looking at her, as you settled on the swings cushion, using your foot to keep it from rocking back and forth “i thought we agreed to take some time”

she took the spot next to you slowly as if not to scare you off, she worried she’d mess this up with you. she so badly wanted to reach over, rest her hand against your thigh and feel the soft skin of your palm rest atop it. but she opted for her own lap, picking at her nails mindlessly.

“i know,” a sigh that had nestled deep in her chest had finally met its release when she began “but i couldn’t take it anymore. this week has been fucking torture for me…i had to see you”

sadness washed over you for a moment, like the sun in a day of mist when it has nothing to shine upon, only dissipating when you felt her shoulder brush against yours. there was almost a faint smile on the corner of your lips, you’d also missed her touch over these past few days. but reality was cruel as it brought you back to the present moment.

“it’s torture for me too” you admitted. you despised being away from her, constantly yearning to be with her whenever she was away.

“really?”

“of course” you snorted, shaking your head as you look out across your friends lawn. you eyed the hydrangea bushes that weaved its way through the porch railings, the patches of yellow that spread through the grass-what a statement to question “i always miss you when we’re apart, why wouldn’t i?”

it sounded stupid to say, you realized once the words left your mouth. nothing you had done would insinuate you missing her, especially leaving her to wallow in your apartment alone, if anything it did quite the opposite.

“cause i’ve been a fucking asshole” she blurted “i wouldn’t miss me either to be honest”

she wasn’t lying, she was an asshole. the pain and loneliness that you endured over the past several months were dreadful, and she was finally ready to admit that it was all her fault. there were no more excuses to hide behind, not when your relationship was at stake. as she reminisced on the many years you’d been in each others lives, she found no reason to validate her behavior. you were everything she could ever need, ever want, and she was taking that for granted.

“nothing could stop me from missing you, cait”

a bitter taste filled your mouth as you anxiously responded to her. you’d been biting down on your lip so hard that you had started to bleed, barely even noticing it through the stiff tension between you. it was silent again for a while as you both pondered on your next moves. should caitlin beg for your forgiveness, get on her knees in front of you and cry? or maybe it should be you, convincing the both of you it was a misunderstanding and you should just forgive her and go home? you’d been straining yourself with your own stubbornness and you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up. part of you wanted to hold your ground and let her know that you wouldn’t except this treatment, but the other part of you just wanted to fall into her embrace and forget about the whole thing. but before you could conquer this battle within your brain, caitlin beat you to it with a rapid burst.

“baby, i-” she said, stoping herself to think-was she even allowed to call you that anymore? her tongue clicked and her eyes squeezed shut, this feeling of guilt was insurmountable “i can’t tell you how sorry i am. how much i regret everything”

she sounded defeated as she fought to get the words out, a whimper threatening to spill at any moment. her nose stung as she sniffled back cries. she thought she’d never get through this, that she wouldn’t even be able to look you in the eyes. but to much of her dismay, your delicate hand met with hers, forcing her fidgety fingers to relax. she turned her head to look at you through damp lashes, and finally seeing your sparkling eyes looking back at hers, found the courage to continue.

“i get so…caught up in myself, and i forget about what’s right in front of me. practice, games, all the hate i’ve been getting recently-christ everything just starts beating down on me and i get so lost. i isolate myself and i push away anyone who tries to break through this damn wall i’ve put up..and when they do..i just end up hurting them” she watched your face contort as she spoke, your lips turning downward to a sympathetic frown. you were always too sweet to her, too good for this world “and that’s what i’ve done to you, the most amazing person in my life and i won’t ever forgive myself for it”

“honey..” the pet named rolled off your tongue effortlessly. caitlin would be lying if she said that hearing it didn’t put her mind at ease. you stuttered, trying to find the words yet again, but she urged you to let her finish.

“i’ve let my shit get in the way of loving you the way you should be. there’s no excuse for how i’ve treated you since the move to indy-not tough games or being homesick or any of that-and i’ve regretted every minute of it. you don’t deserve to go to bed alone just because i was upset, o-or to feel like you have to deal with your stuff by yourself…i know moving has been hard on you, especially since your entire family is back home…and the fact that i haven’t been any support to you is unacceptable and i take full blame for that. and for everything else too, like making you feel neglected? it’s fucking breaking my heart knowing that that’s what i’ve caused, that i’m never around and that i’ve been the furthest thing from a girlfriend. we’re supposed to be a team, we are a team, and all i’ve done is let you carry the weight of both of us. i’m so incredibly sorry and i’ll keep saying it until you believe me”

her chest rose and fell ever so faintly as she breathed deeply. she had run out of air as the words left her in a haste, eager to get her apology out. these past days were spent planning each word, each motion, each action so meticulously and she needed it to work.

and with her final huff, there was a gentle silence again, the wind chimes hanging from your friends porch ceiling clinked softly together. you removed your hand from caitlin’s, letting it rise to her and face and resting it on her cheekbone. the pad of your thumb rubbed into her soft skin, feeling the prominence of her defined cheekbone. she felt warm, probably worked up from the heightened emotions, but it was soothing in a way.

“i believe you, cait” you breathed. you felt her instantly relax into you, the weight of her head pressing into your palm. her eyes fluttered shut and her brows furrowed, she felt undeserving of your reluctance “and i know you’re sorry, it’s okay”

“it’s not” she mumbled against your hand “it’s far from okay. and i’m going to do everything i can to gain your trust back”

“you’re right, it’s not. but i know you’re actually sorry…and you don’t need to gain my trust back, babe. you’ve always had it” her lips quirked when she heard the lighthearted tone of your voice “you really hurt me, and these past few days have been straight from hell. but the fact that you came and owned up to it all shows me that you’re going to work on it”

she nodded frantically, agreeing with every word. because it was true, she’d go the extra mile to ensure you never felt like this again.

“i can’t imagine a world in which i’m not spending eternity with you..so i’m willing to forgive, but my heart won’t be able to bare this again and i need you to promise me it won’t happen in the future. i know you have so much going on in your life, you’ve gone through a lot, but it can’t continue to get in the way of us. i’m here for a reason, to listen and to help in any way i can. please talk to me instead of shutting me out-i want to be there for you okay?”

“of course, i’m going to be better. for you. you deserve more than what i’ve shown you and that’s far from how i want to be, we’re in this together and i want to change. i love you so fucking much and it’ll never happen again”

with a hand still on her cheek and a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned in closer to her. the denim of your jeans rubbed against the swing cushions as you moved nearly into her lap, close enough to press your lips to hers. you could tell the kiss caught her off guard when you felt her body jolt, but quickly relaxing when she fell under your enchantment.

it was a feeling that was hard to explain, like a flame being reignited or a spark nestling in the depth of your chest. you hadn’t kissed caitlin in quite some time, and when you did all that time ago, it had felt meaningless. but here it was different, the taste of jovial tears mixing with that of your lips, creating a rejuvenated feeling of love and adoration. there as a kick to this kiss as she pulled you in deeper, her hand coming to the back of your head to cradle you. it felt good again and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“i love you too”

Come into my bedroom

Come into my bedroom

it had been about a week or so since you decided you were ready to come home and work on healing your relationship with caitlin, and it had already been going better than you had expected. even though the conversation on your best friends porch went smoothly, you had only imagined the fights and anger that would be exchanged once you came home. but caitlin had shown quite the change already and you could already feel the rips and holes of your relationship beginning to mend. she had been just as doting and soft as she was at the beginning of your relationship.

she was treating you to candlelit dinners, drawing you the most relaxing baths, and fitting time into her schedule for you no matter how long it might be. she even took you golfing with her and was dragging you along to outings with the team and occasional press events. you hadn’t felt this excited in a long time, it was like you were crushing on her all over again.

for the first time since your life started in indiana, the little things were beginning to matter.

and now it was a quiet weekend night in, the plushness of the living room carpet weaving between your bare toes as caitlin’s hands rested quaintly on your hips. the furniture had been been pushed off to the outskirts of the room in order to give your bodies plenty of space to sway freely. the overhead light fixture had been long forgotten once the evening sunset began to bleed through the window, creating the sweetest source of light. the old record player, the one you brought with you when you moved away from home, sat on the the table in the corner as it spun yours and caits favorite album. the tune hummed quietly as its scratchy notes bounced off the walls, yet it was perfect for a night like this.

maybe it was cheesy, the way you and caitlin rocked side to side as you danced in your pajamas to sappy love songs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. it was like a page out of the romance novels you read in high school. you were convinced this was all you needed in life, no luxury clothes or fancy dates, just you and caitlin soaking each other in as you danced around the apartment. it healed something in you as she spun you in her arms, laughing heartily when you stumbled. she was finally back to being your caity girl once more.

“what?” you giggled breathlessly after catching yourself from almost falling, pushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. she was staring at you when you faced her again, dimples evident as she grinned at you. her eyes had a softness to them, similar to the softness of her hand that snuck under your shirt to lightly pinch your side.

"nothin'" she shook her head with a wavering sigh "you're just...everything i've ever dreamed of, and i don't know- i just can't believe this is real"

she seemed choked up, in genuine disbelief that you were standing right in front of her, and it made your heart melt. it was moments like these that you craved, where her walls came down and she was completely herself with you. no pressure to look strong or tough, no holding back tears or true emotions, just pure love.

"of course it's real cait" you titled your head with an appreciative pout. you pulled her in with a comforting hand to the back of her head, leveraging yourself on your tiptoes to place a kiss to her forehead "what do you mean, baby?"

"like," she tried to find the words as she cleared her throat "like i can't believe that you're still with me. i don't know anyone who would stay through anything like the pain i've cause you. and the fact that you're right here in front of me, been so patient with me and understanding...i just feel so undeserving"

"hey, of course you're deserving" you politely scolded "we all make mistakes and sometimes they're bigger than we intend. but i love you more than words can describe and i know you've been trying to mend them. everyone has rough patches in their relationships, but i'm here to stay, caitlin. i'm not going anywhere"

you watched as her shoulders fell drastically; it was apparent that your words meant more than you had originally thought. she had always need reassurance, having always doubted herself in anything she did, and it was an unmatchable feeling knowing that you were the one to soother her. she nodded, not saying anything as leaned into you even more. so, you confided, not prying for a response. this vulnerability was already a big step for her.

you rested your forehead against hers, arms coming to loop around her neck. her long lashes fluttered as they tickled yours. the music was still playing in the background, allowing you both to fall into another oscillating rhythm. although it was cut short again when you felt her lips part, a quiet voice barely escaping her.

"it was you" it came out almost inaudible, leaving you confused on whether you hear her correctly or not.

"hm?"

"it was you," she said clearly this time, foreheads till touching and eyes shut in romantic bliss "from the second we met i knew it was going to be you. like a soulmate or life partner..whatver you want to call it, i just knew that you were going to be it for me"

as you stand there, your heart races, the world about stops spinning. each syllable strikes a chord deep within you, resonating with the echoes of past moments you’ve cherished with her. you could hear those words over and over and never get tired of it. The weight of uncertainty from the past months finally lifts, replaced by an exhilaration that makes everything else fade into the background. nothing else mattered anymore, no stress and no disdain for the road ahead, just you, caitlin, and an eternity together.

"you're it for me too," you said "in every lifetime"

-

A/N: FINALLY!! it's finished!! i definitely didn't spell check this, so if you catch any mistakes, feel free to DM me so i can fix it! i love you and thank you for your patience with this fic :')