#also this is very much inspired by a sweet little boy I had

[mikichko]

⛔ this blog is 18+ !! minors and ageless blogs please dni ⛔ part of adoptive parents!ghoap x reader inspired by this tiktok cw: afab!reader, series revolves around a child so be mindful!

“i’m sorry i’m a bad kid miss”

johnny freezes midstep at the unmistakable sound of zachariah’s voice. not too far from your classroom’s door, he comes to a full stop. the hallways are empty now, his arrival delayed by trouble at the coffee shop, which makes it easier for zach’s voice to carry down to him. he stiffens as the words register, not missing the wobble in his son's voice.

there’s no way you’d be telling zach, his son, that he’s a bad kid.

he wills himself to breathe deeply, inhaling sharply as his feet carry him silently to your classroom. he understands that his son requires extra handling. that his behavior and temperament when worked up are an adjustment to all those involved. but that doesn’t give any of them the right to attach such foul words to his boy. he has to pause a step before your doorway, taking deep silent breaths to ease down his temper. his hands flex inward, blunt nails pressing firmly against the calloused skin of his palms before he attempts to release the tension in his body. he has to keep it together and not cause a scene in front of his son, no matter how disrespectful he’s being treated.

what he doesn’t expect, is to find you knelt before zach. you have your back turned to him, focused completely on zach as you hold his face in your hands. and though he can’t see you, he can certainly see zach. his little boy’s face is covered in red splotches, his eyes watery, and his eyelashes wet as he blinks rapidly trying to hold back his tears.

“sweetheart,” you stoke your thumb across his cheek, catching a tear before it has a chance to fall. “you are not a bad kid.” zach presses his lips together at that. just like he does when simon tells him that clover will tell him if zach feeds her his vegetables again. or when johnny tells him that they can turn the frosting pink with strawberries, like he doesn’t quite believe him. 

“where did you get that silly idea from, love?”

zach takes a breath, tries to, but a tremble shakes his small body. you stroke his cheek once more, speaking in a low comforting voice, “it's okay sweetheart. take your time. we’re not in any rush” he bites his lip, nodding slowly before he closes his eyes and tries for another breath, much steadier this time. 

he doesn’t meet your gaze when he opens his eyes. instead, looking down as he talks, voice small, “everyone says im just a bad kid.” the trembling starts up again as he continues, “and you’re so nice to me.” he stops, another shaky breath rocking his body, “and i want to say sorry for being so bad even though you’re so nice to me.”

johnny’s been out of the service for years now. he thinks that he and simon have adjusted to civvy life as best as they possibly could, after everything. and yet, right here right now, he can feel soap stirring from his hibernating state. he thinks of seven inappropriate acts of violence he can perpetuate against the staff members of the school before he reels himself back in. he wants names. of every single person who had the gall to say something like that to his son. would like to see how they posture up when someone their size, possibly larger, meets them face to face. 

for a brief second johnny wonders if you knew about this. had you said this to zach before?

the thoughts are wiped from his mind as he sees how your spine goes rigid. your shoulders tense, body unmoving but your hands stay soft and gentle for his boy. it’s only for a moment, then you ease up again, your back moving as you breathe deeply. he doesn’t need to see your face to confirm your innocence. not when he can see so plainly the way you hold his boy’s face as if you’re cradling the world’s most precious thing in the world. the way that you murmur reassurances as his tears fall and his body shakes, your fingers wiping away salty tears before they even leave their dewy mark on his skin. 

“my love,” you start sweet and soft, “there is no such thing as a bad kid.” one of your hands moves to push back his hair, damp as a result of his tumultuous state. “do you know what the nice thing about being alive is?” zach shakes his head, lips still pressed tightly together but breathing a little easier now. “it’s everyone’s first time.”

you scoot forward a bit before you sit back on your heels, lowering yourself even more. “no one knows what they’re doing, especially not you! you’re only five!” zach shudders out a breath, nodding and johnny finds himself nodding along with him. he’s not a bad kid, for god’s sake he’s barely even five. he’s still learning what being a kid really is.

“do you remember when your daddy and papa first got clover? clover didn’t follow the house rules, right? but clover wasn’t a bad dog, she just didn’t know what the rules were. she was just learning.” the tears have stopped falling now and zach breathes better, albeit a little snotty, as he nods along to your words.

“you’re not a bad kid zachy. not at all. don’t listen to anyone who tells you otherwise.” you continue to stroke across his forehead and cheeks, zach’s eyes flutter as you soothe him. “ you are an incredible kid and i’m so glad to have you in my class. it’s not a chore to be nice to you sweetheart. it’s one of the easiest things that I do. I promise.”

the words aren’t even out of your mouth before zach launches himself forward, with no warning. his small arms wrap over your shoulders, using the strength of his whole body to hug you. he whispers something to you that johnny can't make out. you simply stroke his back and remind him how happy you are to have him here. he’s doing his best and that’s all you could ever ask of him.

and johnny can see that you’re doing your best. that you are doing more for his son than any other educator in this entire building, hell his entire academic career, had ever done for him. it untangles the knot of anger that sat at the bottom of his stomach, replaced with something softer, warmer. his skin pricks up, goosebumps spreading across his arms and hair standing on end as he watches you console this boy who he loves so much and is raising as his own. he knows for a fact that you would never speak such ill words to his child. that if anything, you’re the shield that protects him from that and worse. 

he takes a few steps back from the doorway, collecting himself before heading back, making sure his steps are heard. he knocks on the open door before stepping into the classroom, still finding you knelt on the floor but with zach in front and not wrapped around you. already, the redness is fading from zach’s fair skin, eyelashes still wet but with no new tears clumping them together. “ah sorry, was I interruptin’ something?”

you look over your shoulder at him, your small smile widening into a grin. “mister mactavish! right on time. I was just talking with zachy about what a good boy he’s been these past couple weeks.” you turn back to zach, and he giggles before you rise to your feet, no doubt a wink exchanged between you both. “a great improvement indeed mister mactavish. I think that warrants a reward, don't you?” you flash him a blinding smile.

johnny would give his son all of life’s rewards if he could. he knows how good his son is. but as he looks over at the sight of his son, his boy, leaning into your hip, looking at you as if you hung the stars, he can’t seem to find his voice. he simply nods. 

“alright zach,” you pat him on the head, “go on and get your stuff so you and your papa can get back home to your daddy. alright?” another nod and zach dashes off to get his backpack and jacket from his hook.

johnny clears his throat, his voice finally finding him, “thank you.”

you blink bewilderedly at him, “what for?”

“reminding him he’s not a bad kid.”

your eyes widen just a fraction before you let out a small laugh, “ah, so you heard.” you break his gaze, looking over where zach is collecting his belongings. when you look back at johnny, your eyes have softened, “you don’t have to thank me for that mister mactavish. I meant what I said. he’s a wonderful kid. we just have to keep reminding him of that. especially when no one else will.”

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1854 - could it be love?

chapter summary: You meet Logan, a young man who is briefly stopping by in New York City. Despite both of your better judgments, you quickly realize that perhaps there's nothing wrong with falling in love.

word count: 22.2k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: ahh!! welcome to this new series! i'm very excited to start this journey with all of y'all! just a note, when i say 'character death(s)' in the warnings it means that reader is going to die at the end of every chapter. that's the entire premise of this series, which was inspired by the 11th doctor and clara (iykyk). but first, we have a lot of time to cover before we even reach the first x-men movie so strap in!

i also didn't mean for this to be as long as it is, oops

warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, slow burn, illness, character deaths

series masterlist → chapter 2

You didn’t necessarily love your job, but it was better than other options available for you. You grumbled to yourself as you walked down the sidewalk of New York City, horses neighing and wheels rattling on the brick street.

The bonnet on your head protected you from the sun beating down, keeping you from further heat in your dress. You had many things to do while you were out, get the children some new clothes and toys, buy some groceries, and buy some extra cloth for when you eventually had to sew their clothing.

As you passed by a small shop, you paused, peering in through the window. A few wooden toys sat on the shelf inside, simple and sturdy. Perfect for the boys. You pushed the door open, a little bell jingling as you entered, and you made your way toward the display.

"Can I help you, miss?" The shopkeeper’s voice startled you, but you smiled politely.

"Just looking for some toys," you replied, eyes scanning the shelves.

As you picked up a carved wooden horse, the door opened again behind you, letting in a bit of fresh air and a man’s heavy footsteps. You didn’t pay it much mind until you felt a presence nearby, a little too close for comfort. You turned slightly, catching sight of a tall man with dark hair and an unshaven face, dressed in a rough shirt and worn pants, a bit out of place among the polished streets of the city.

He glanced your way, his sharp eyes catching yours for a brief moment before he looked back to the shelves.

Something about him felt different—dangerous, but not in the way that made you want to run. More like it pulled you in, made you curious.

You turned back to the toys, but your mind kept wandering back to the stranger standing nearby. You couldn’t help but glance his way again.

"Those are good for little ones," the man said, his voice rough but casual. He nodded at the toy horse in your hand. "They hold up well. Tougher than they look."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden comment. "You have experience with them?"

His lips twitched, almost a smile. "A bit. Used to make ‘em myself."

You looked him over more closely now, intrigued. "You don’t seem like the toy-making type."

His eyes flicked to yours, something amused in the way he looked at you. "Not anymore," he said, then turned his attention back to the shelves.

There was a silence between you for a moment, but it didn’t feel awkward. If anything, it felt like he didn’t mind you being there, like he was used to people drifting in and out of his space.

You finally spoke again. "I suppose these are sturdy enough for two boys, then."

"Yeah. They’ll survive a beating."

You laughed, the sound surprising you. He gave you another look, a bit more interested this time. There was something about him that made you feel seen in a way that was different from how most men looked at you.

You gathered a few more toys, careful not to spend too much, but you couldn’t resist getting something extra for the little girl you looked after. She was sweet, and it wasn’t her fault she was stuck in such a strict household.

The stranger watched you with those sharp eyes, like he could see more than what was right in front of him. You wondered what his story was, but you weren’t about to ask.

As you headed to the counter, he followed, though he didn’t buy anything. The shopkeeper took your coins, and you gathered your parcels, still feeling the man’s presence behind you.

"Thanks for the advice," you said over your shoulder, more as a courtesy than anything else.

He nodded, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Anytime."

With that, you left the shop, stepping back into the sunlight, the weight of your errands still on your shoulders. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted. Like maybe that wasn’t the last time you’d see him.

---

Edwin and Phillip seemed to enjoy the toy you got them, already fighting over who gets to play with it first. They were the eldest, Edwin was 9, Phillip was 7, and Ada was 6. You handed her the toy you got for her, one she got to keep all to herself.

Ada's face lit up when you handed her the small, carved doll. She held it in her hands gently, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"For me?" she asked, her voice soft with disbelief.

You smiled and nodded. "Just for you, Ada."

Her eyes sparkled, and she hugged the doll to her chest. "Thank you!"

Edwin and Phillip were already in the middle of their tug-of-war with the wooden horse, the two boys shouting over whose turn it was.

"I had it first!" Edwin argued, pulling the toy toward him.

"You always get it first!" Phillip shot back, his voice growing louder.

You sighed and stepped in, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Why don't you take turns? If you can't share, I'll have to take it away, and no one gets to play with it."

They both groaned but reluctantly agreed, setting the horse on the floor. Edwin was a bit of a handful, but he could be sweet when he wanted to be. Phillip, the quieter one, usually followed his brother’s lead. At least Ada wasn’t much trouble.

After helping Ada settle in with her new toy, you turned to check on the boys, making sure they hadn’t already forgotten your words. But as you did, your thoughts drifted back to the man in the shop. There was something about him—something that lingered in your mind even now. He didn’t fit in with the usual crowd you saw around here, but he didn’t seem bothered by that.

It was odd, though, that someone like him would be in a toy shop of all places. You tried to shake the thought away, but it kept creeping back, a sense that your brief encounter meant more than it appeared.

Later, after the children had settled down, you found yourself with a rare quiet moment. You sat by the window, staring out at the street below, watching the people passing by. The day was winding down, the sky fading into hues of orange and pink, and yet, the man’s sharp eyes lingered in your mind.

You shook your head, scolding yourself for thinking too much about a stranger. It was just a passing moment—nothing more. You had far more important things to focus on, like taking care of the children and making sure everything ran smoothly for the household. That man, whoever he was, wasn’t part of your world.

But still, something in the back of your mind whispered that you’d see him again. And the thought of it didn’t exactly bother you.

---

The next few days were a blur of your usual routine. The children kept you busy, and you barely had a moment to yourself. But even as you went through the motions of your daily life, you couldn't help but feel that sense of something—or someone—waiting.

It was on a brisk afternoon, a few days after your encounter at the shop, when you found yourself running errands again. The streets were busier than usual, with carriages clattering over the cobblestones and people bustling past in a hurry. You had a long list of things to pick up, and the thought of weaving through the crowded market already had you dreading the trip.

As you made your way through the streets, you spotted a familiar figure standing at the corner near a fruit stand. The man from the shop. He hadn’t seen you yet, but something about the way he stood, slightly apart from the rest of the crowd, watching the passersby with a quiet intensity, made you pause.

You debated for a moment. Should you approach him? Or would it seem too forward?

Before you could decide, his gaze lifted, and he spotted you. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition passing over his features, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, watching you.

You took a deep breath and made your way over, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Fancy seeing you here again," you said, trying to sound casual as you approached.

"Didn’t expect to run into you either," he replied, his voice still rough, but there was a hint of something in his tone. Amusement? Interest? You couldn’t quite place it.

"I was just running errands," you said, gesturing to the market behind you. "You know how it is."

He nodded, his eyes flicking over you for a moment before landing back on the crowd. "Yeah, I get it."

There was a beat of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it almost felt... familiar. Like talking to him wasn’t so strange after all.

"Are you from around here?" you asked, breaking the silence.

He shook his head. "Not really. Just passing through."

"Do you always pass through toy shops when you're in town?"

His lips quirked into that almost-smile again. "Only when I feel like it."

You couldn’t help but chuckle. "Mysterious, aren’t you?"

He shrugged, not giving much away. "Maybe."

You were about to ask him something else when a shout came from behind you. You turned to see one of the street vendors, an older man, calling out angrily at a young boy who had clearly tried to swipe an apple from his cart.

Before you could even react, the man next to you stepped forward. His movements were quick and fluid, like he was used to handling situations like this. He reached the boy before the vendor could get too close, gripping the kid by the collar.

"Hey," the man said, his voice low but firm. "That’s not how you do things."

The boy froze, wide-eyed, clearly not expecting to be caught so quickly.

"Put it back," the man ordered.

The boy, trembling slightly, dropped the apple back onto the cart. "I’m sorry!" he blurted out before scurrying off into the crowd.

You watched as the man exchanged a few words with the vendor, calming him down before he turned back to you, his expression unreadable.

"You didn’t have to do that," you said, surprised by how quickly he had handled the situation.

He shrugged again. "The kid’ll learn his lesson. Better this way than the other options."

You looked at him, a little more curious now. He wasn’t just some rough-around-the-edges stranger. There was something deeper to him, something that made you want to know more.

“I don’t think I caught your name the other day,” you settled on, meeting his eyes as the energy of the crowd buzzed around you both.

He gave a small nod, like he was considering whether to answer or not. "Logan," he said simply.

"Logan," you repeated, trying the name on your tongue. It suited him, rough around the edges but solid. "I’m Y/N."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave another slight nod, acknowledging it. The silence between you wasn’t heavy, but it felt like something unspoken passed through the space. Something that told you he wasn’t just another passerby in your life.

"Thanks for helping that kid back there," you said, breaking the quiet. "Not everyone would step in like that."

Logan shrugged like it was nothing, his eyes scanning the crowd again. "Not a big deal."

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. "You do that a lot? Play the hero?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, barely there, but it was enough. "No. Just don't like seeing people get hurt when I can do something about it."

There was a gruffness to his words, but it didn’t feel forced. It felt real. And it was clear that he wasn’t the type to go around explaining himself to anyone. You liked that.

"Well, either way, it was good of you." You glanced down at the parcels in your arms, suddenly remembering the rest of your errands. "I should probably get going, before I’m late getting back."

Logan gave you a small nod, his eyes flicking down to your parcels. "You take care."

You hesitated, a part of you not wanting to walk away just yet. But what could you say? You didn’t know this man, not really, and yet you felt drawn to him in a way that was hard to explain. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, like he had been through more than he let on. Or maybe it was the quiet strength in him that made you feel oddly safe.

"Maybe I’ll see you around?" you offered, not wanting to make the goodbye feel so final.

Logan’s eyes met yours again, and for a moment, there was something softer in his gaze. "Yeah. Maybe."

With that, you gave him a small smile and turned to leave, weaving your way through the bustling street. As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance back once, just to see if he was still there. He was, standing where you left him, watching you go.

---

The following days fell back into your usual routine—taking care of the children, running errands, keeping the household in order. Yet, no matter how busy you were, your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. Something about him lingered in your mind, and it wasn’t just because he had helped out that kid. There was something deeper, something you couldn’t quite shake.

You found yourself wondering if he really was just passing through, or if there was more to his story than he was letting on. You didn’t know why it mattered so much, but it did.

One afternoon, as you were helping Ada tie the ribbon on her new dress, she looked up at you with her big, curious eyes.

"Y/N, are you thinking about something?" she asked innocently.

You blinked, surprised. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you’re smiling," she said, her voice soft and sweet.

You hadn’t even realized. "Oh," you said, chuckling softly. "I guess I was just lost in thought."

Ada giggled, her small hands playing with the ribbon you had just tied. "You think about a lot of things."

"That’s because I have to keep track of all you rascals," you teased, tickling her side gently.

She squealed in delight, wriggling away from you, and you couldn’t help but laugh. But as you settled back into the moment, that same thought returned, uninvited. Logan. Would you see him again?

---

It wasn’t long before the answer came.

You were out in the market again, picking up some fresh bread for dinner. The smell of the bakery wafted through the air, warm and comforting. You had just handed over your coins to the baker when you felt that familiar presence—something just outside the edge of your awareness, like a shadow that suddenly moved.

Turning slightly, your eyes caught sight of Logan standing near a fruit cart, his hands in his pockets, watching you. It wasn’t a surprise this time, but your heart still gave a little flutter at the sight of him. You made your way over, the crowd parting as you walked.

"Logan," you greeted, a smile pulling at your lips before you could stop it.

"Y/N," he replied, nodding in acknowledgment. His expression didn’t change much, but there was something almost... pleased in his eyes. Like he had expected you to come over.

"Still passing through?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He glanced around the busy street before answering. "Seems like I’ve been here longer than I planned."

"Any reason for that?" you asked, half-joking but also genuinely curious.

Logan looked at you for a long moment, like he was debating how much to say. Finally, he shrugged. "No reason."

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you let it go. Instead, you gestured to the bread in your basket. "If you’re still around tomorrow, you should come by the park. I take the children there sometimes in the afternoons. It’s quieter than here."

Logan’s eyes flicked to yours, considering. "Maybe I will."

You nodded, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction from his answer. It was small, but it was something.

"Well," you said, shifting the basket on your arm. "I should get back before the boys tear the house down."

Logan smirked at that, and you felt a warmth spread through you at the sight of it. He wasn’t a man who smiled easily, but when he did, it felt like a reward.

"Take care," he said, his voice low and steady, and you couldn’t help but notice how those words made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t expected.

As you walked away, the warmth of his gaze stayed with you, lingering long after you’d turned the corner.

---

The next day, you found yourself at the park, just as you had promised. Edwin and Phillip were racing around, laughing as they chased each other, while Ada sat quietly by your side, her doll clutched in her hands.

You tried not to look around for Logan, but you couldn’t help it. Every time someone passed by, your heart gave a little jump, only to settle back down when you realized it wasn’t him.

Just as you were beginning to think he wouldn’t show, you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

"Mind if I join you?" Logan’s voice was calm, but there was something in it that made you smile.

You glanced up, meeting his eyes. "Not at all."

Logan gave a nod, lowering himself onto the bench beside you. He stretched his long legs out, looking completely at ease. The sounds of the children’s laughter filled the air, and for a moment, you just sat in companionable silence.

“Boys giving you trouble?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“They always do,” you replied, watching as Edwin tackled Phillip to the ground. “But I think they’d explode if they didn’t.”

Logan’s lips twitched at that—almost a smile. “Kids’ll do that. Got too much energy.”

You tilted your head, studying him out of the corner of your eye. “You got siblings?”

Logan paused for a second, like the question had caught him off guard. “Yeah. A brother.”

You didn’t press, sensing there was more to the story but knowing better than to pry. Instead, you turned your attention back to the children.

“Do you have any?” Logan asked, nodding toward the boys.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I look after them for the family I work for. They keep me busy, though. Might as well be mine.”

He gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment, resting his elbows on his knees.

“And her?” Logan nodded toward Ada, who sat a little apart from the boys, her doll tucked protectively in her arms.

“That’s Ada,” you said, smiling softly. “She’s the quiet one. A little sweet thing, really.”

“She’s got good taste,” Logan remarked, glancing at the doll in her hands.

You chuckled. “That was the least I could do for her. Life’s not exactly fun in that house.”

Logan’s gaze flicked toward you, something unreadable in his expression. “It never is.”

You frowned, catching the weight behind his words, but before you could ask what he meant, Ada wandered over to you. She gave Logan a curious glance but stayed close by your side.

“Who’s he?” Ada whispered, gripping your sleeve.

You smiled. “This is Logan. He’s a friend.”

Logan gave her a small nod, and Ada, ever cautious, just stared at him with wide eyes. After a beat, she leaned in close to you and whispered, “He looks like a bear.”

You tried—really tried—not to laugh, but it slipped out anyway. Logan gave a low chuckle of his own, shaking his head slightly.

“Smart kid,” he murmured.

Ada, encouraged by your laughter, gave a shy smile. Then she wandered back toward the boys, apparently satisfied with Logan’s presence.

“She’s got you figured out,” you teased, grinning.

Logan’s expression softened just a bit, and he gave a small shrug. “Kids see things plain.”

You leaned back on the bench, letting yourself relax. It was strange, how easy it felt to be around him. You didn’t know much about him—hardly anything, really—but something about Logan made you feel like you didn’t need to fill the silence with useless conversation.

“Do you ever stop moving?” you asked suddenly, curious. “You said you were just passing through, but it seems like you’ve stayed a bit longer.”

Logan didn’t answer right away. He stared out at the park, his expression thoughtful.

“Sometimes,” he said finally. “Not often, though.”

“That sounds lonely.”

His jaw twitched slightly, and he turned his head to look at you. “You get used to it.”

You held his gaze for a moment, sensing that there was more beneath the surface than he was letting on. But instead of prying, you just nodded, accepting his words for what they were.

“Well, if you ever feel like staying in one place for a bit, you know where to find me,” you said lightly.

Logan’s eyes flickered with something—something you couldn’t quite name—but he gave a small nod, like he was filing that thought away.

“Appreciate it,” he murmured.

Before you could say more, Edwin and Phillip came barreling toward you, out of breath and covered in dirt.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Edwin shouted. “Phillip said he could run faster than me, but I totally won!”

Phillip scowled, wiping mud off his cheek. “Only because you pushed me.”

“You pushed him?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at Edwin.

Edwin squirmed. “Not that hard.”

Logan snorted quietly, drawing both boys’ attention. They looked at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Who’s that?” Edwin whispered loudly, leaning closer to you.

“That’s Logan,” you said. “He’s a friend.”

Edwin tilted his head, squinting up at Logan. “You look tough.”

Logan’s lips twitched. “I get that a lot.”

“Can you fight?” Edwin asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up. “Like—like really fight?”

“Edwin!” you scolded, but Logan just gave a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “A bit.”

“Whoa!” Edwin’s jaw dropped, clearly impressed. Phillip, more cautious, stayed quiet but kept his eyes on Logan like he was trying to figure him out.

“Alright, enough of that,” you said, gently ushering the boys away. “Go play before I make you help with dinner.”

Edwin groaned but dragged Phillip along, the two of them running back toward the trees.

You glanced at Logan, shaking your head. “You’ve got yourself some new fans, it seems.”

Logan huffed softly. “Kids are alright.”

There was a pause, and then you asked quietly, “You really do keep moving, don’t you?”

Logan looked at you, his expression serious. “Yeah.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. There was something in his eyes that told you he’d seen more than most—more than you could probably imagine.

“Well,” you said softly, “if you ever get tired of running, you know where to find me.”

Logan held your gaze for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, with the barest hint of a smile, he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

---

You saw Logan more often than not. Truth be told, you enjoyed his presence. He was different than the other men you had met, not as harsh, didn’t look down on you, or see you as an object.

One day, while walking around the market with a small basket, filled with a few apples and some bread, you looked at a carriage, rolling along the brick road with a horse in front.

“I never learned how to ride a horse,” you said, glancing at the carriage as it rolled along the cobblestone street. The words came out before you even knew why you said them, maybe just filling the space between you and Logan.

Logan, walking beside you, gave you a sidelong glance. The faintest trace of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “That right?”

You shrugged, shifting the basket in your hand. “Never had a reason to, I suppose. And it’s not exactly something you pick up living in the city.”

He made a low noise in his throat that could have been agreement. For a moment, the two of you walked in companionable silence, the sounds of the market buzzing around you—vendors calling out, the clip-clop of hooves, the soft rustle of autumn leaves underfoot.

“Wouldn’t take much to learn,” Logan said finally, his voice easy. “Reckon you’d be good at it.”

You shot him a skeptical glance. “How would you know?”

Logan gave a lazy shrug. “Just a guess.”

There was something in his tone, though—something soft and amused that made your cheeks warm. You glanced away, pretending to be very interested in a stall selling ribbons, though your attention kept drifting back to Logan.

“You know how to ride, then?” you asked after a moment, keeping your tone casual.

He nodded. “Yeah. Picked it up when I was a kid.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious despite yourself. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Here and there,” he answered vaguely, though not unkindly. You got the sense that there was a lot more to the story—things he wasn’t ready to share. And maybe things you weren’t quite ready to ask about. Not yet, anyway.

“Would you teach me?” you asked on impulse, surprising even yourself.

Logan glanced over, one brow raised, and for a moment, you thought he might laugh. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave a small nod, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Sure,” he said simply.

A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it.

“When?” you pressed, feeling strangely excited by the idea.

Logan thought for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the road ahead. “Next Sunday,” he decided. “There’s a place just outside the city. I know a guy who’s got a couple of good horses.”

You felt a flicker of doubt—after all, you had responsibilities, and it wasn’t as though you could just abandon the children for the day. But Logan must have noticed your hesitation because he gave you a reassuring look.

“Bring the kids,” he offered. “They can run wild while you learn.”

That made you laugh softly. “You really think I can keep up with them and learn to ride a horse?”

Logan’s lips twitched. “I’ll handle the boys if they get out of hand.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“I’ve handled worse,” Logan said with a grin that made your stomach do an odd little flip.

You opened your mouth to respond, but just then, a vendor called out, advertising fresh apples, and you were drawn toward the stall. Logan followed at a leisurely pace, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

You picked a couple of apples, inspecting them before adding them to your basket. As you handed a coin to the vendor, you glanced at Logan again.

“Next Sunday, then?” you asked, as if you still needed confirmation.

Logan gave a small nod. “Next Sunday.”

Something about the way he said it—calm and certain—made you believe it would actually happen. And for the first time in a long while, you found yourself looking forward to something.

---

The boys were already running rampant in the large field, their shouts of laughter echoing across the open space. You could see Edwin trying to race Phillip again, their legs kicking up dirt as they charged back and forth. Ada, ever the quiet one, sat nearby on a stack of hay, her doll in her lap, watching them with a little smile on her face.

You stood near the horses, feeling a flutter of nervous energy in your stomach. Logan was beside you, calm as always, holding the reins of a chestnut mare with an ease that made it all look far simpler than you knew it was. He glanced over at you, his dark eyes catching yours, and you could see the trace of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You sure about this?” Logan asked, nodding toward the horse.

You swallowed, staring up at the mare. “Sure. How hard can it be?”

Logan gave a quiet laugh, clearly not convinced. “We’ll see.”

He held the reins steady, motioning for you to come closer. You did, taking a deep breath as you placed your hand on the saddle. The horse shifted slightly, and you jumped back a little, making Logan chuckle again.

“She’s not gonna bite,” he said, his voice low and amused.

“I know that,” you muttered, embarrassed but trying not to show it. “I just wasn’t ready.”

Logan gave a small shrug, stepping around to stand beside you. “C’mon. Foot in the stirrup. I’ll help you up.”

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. Grabbing hold of the saddle, you placed your foot in the stirrup just like he’d told you, and then you felt Logan’s hand on your waist, firm and steady. With one swift movement, he lifted you up onto the horse, and suddenly you were sitting much higher than you’d expected.

You gripped the reins tightly, your heart racing a little.

“There,” Logan said, standing back with his arms crossed. He looked up at you, giving a small nod of approval. “Not bad.”

You glanced down at him, a bit breathless. “I’m on the horse, but that doesn’t mean I can ride it.”

Logan smirked. “One step at a time, darlin’.”

He moved around to grab the reins, keeping his voice low and calm as he spoke to the mare, guiding her gently in a slow circle around the field. You held on, trying to keep yourself steady in the saddle. It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, but every time the horse took a step, you felt your stomach flip a little.

Logan kept walking beside you, close enough that you could hear him, though his voice was quiet. “You’re doin’ fine.”

“I feel ridiculous,” you muttered, glancing over at the boys to make sure they weren’t watching. Of course, they were, but they seemed more interested in their own games than in you wobbling around on a horse.

“You look fine,” Logan said, and there was something in his tone that made you glance at him sharply.

His eyes flickered up toward yours for just a moment, and you felt that familiar warmth in your cheeks again. You looked away quickly, trying to focus on staying upright.

“You’re just sayin’ that,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Logan chuckled. “No. If you looked ridiculous, I’d tell you.”

The confidence in his voice made you smile despite yourself. You loosened your grip on the reins just a little, letting yourself relax. The horse moved steadily beneath you, her pace slow and even, and after a few moments, you realized it wasn’t so bad after all.

“You ready to try it on your own?” Logan asked, his voice easy.

You blinked. “You think I’m ready?”

“Yeah.” He handed the reins over to you, stepping back a little. “Just keep her steady. She’s not gonna take off on you.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath and gripping the reins tightly as you urged the horse forward. She responded, moving into a gentle walk, and you felt a little thrill of pride. Logan walked beside you for a few more steps, watching, but then he stopped, folding his arms across his chest as he watched you guide the horse around the field on your own.

“You’re a natural,” he called out, a grin tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly, feeling a bit more confident now. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

As you circled back around toward him, you slowed the horse, bringing her to a stop in front of Logan. He looked up at you, his eyes warm and approving.

“Told ya,” he said. “Not so hard, is it?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Not as hard as I thought.”

Logan reached up, taking the reins from your hands. “C’mon. Let’s get you down.”

This part felt a little trickier, but Logan was there, steadying you as you swung your leg over the saddle and slid down. His hands were firm on your waist again, and for just a moment, you were standing close enough to catch the scent of leather and something else—something distinctly Logan.

“Thanks,” you said softly, looking up at him.

Logan’s eyes held yours for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. Then he gave a small nod, stepping back.

“Anytime,” he said, his voice low.

Before you could say anything else, the boys came running over, breathless and wild from their playing. Edwin looked up at the horse, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Can I ride next?” he asked, practically bouncing on his toes.

You glanced at Logan, raising an eyebrow. “You said you’d handle them if they got out of hand, remember?”

Logan sighed, giving you a wry smile. “Yeah, I remember.”

He looked at Edwin, then nodded toward the horse. “Alright, kid. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As Logan helped Edwin onto the horse, you stepped back, watching with a small smile. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the field, and for a moment, everything felt peaceful. You glanced at Ada, who was still sitting on the haystack, her doll in her arms, watching the scene with quiet interest.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let yourself enjoy moments like this.

As Logan guided Edwin around the field, you found yourself watching him more than the horse. There was something about the way he moved—strong, sure, like he belonged here, like he was more comfortable in this quiet, open space than anywhere else.

And as he turned, catching your eye for just a moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’d found something here worth staying for.

---

“You ever think about gettin’ outta the city?” Logan asked, his voice low. “Findin’ somewhere quieter?”

You glanced at him, a little surprised by the question. “I’ve thought about it. But… I’ve got responsibilities.”

Logan nodded slowly, his eyes distant as he stared out at the horizon. “Yeah. Responsibilities.”

The way he said it made you wonder if he was thinking about something—or someone—far away. You’d learned quickly that Logan wasn’t one to talk much about his past, and though you were curious, you didn’t push.

You turned a jar of honey over in your hand, Mr. Thomas had asked you to buy them another jar while you were out. “If I didn’t have responsibilities, I’d like to live out in a cabin, away from everything else. Sometimes things here are noisy. I’d just like to… I don’t know, exist without worryin’ about anything.”

Logan, standing beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets, gave a small grunt of agreement. "Sounds nice."

You glanced at him, curious. "You ever think about it? Leaving the city behind, finding a quiet spot somewhere?"

Logan paused for a moment, his gaze distant. "Yeah. Sometimes."

The simplicity of his answer hung in the air between you, and for a second, you wondered if he'd actually let himself think about settling down. It seemed unlikely, given how much he kept moving, but there was something in the way he said it, something almost wistful.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy who stays in one place for too long," you teased, shifting the basket in your hand as you handed the vendor a coin for the honey.

Logan shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Guess not."

You both fell into a comfortable silence as you continued walking through the market. The streets bustled with people, but somehow, with Logan by your side, it all felt a little less overwhelming. You didn't have to fill the quiet with pointless chatter. He wasn’t like the others in the city—constantly rushing, looking for something to gain. He just… existed, like you wanted to.

As you passed by a small stall selling flowers, you slowed down, your eyes catching on a bouquet of wildflowers that reminded you of something you'd see out in the countryside. Logan noticed, his eyes following your gaze.

"You like those?" he asked, nodding toward the flowers.

You smiled softly. "Yeah. They remind me of… I don’t know, freedom, I guess."

Logan gave a small chuckle. "Freedom, huh?"

You shrugged, suddenly feeling a little silly. "I know it sounds strange. It’s just… being stuck in the city all the time, I don’t get to see much of the world outside these streets."

He didn’t laugh or brush it off like most people would have. Instead, Logan looked at you for a moment, his expression serious.

"Maybe one day," he said quietly, "you’ll get that cabin. Find some peace."

There was something about the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat, but before you could respond, a commotion erupted a few stalls down. Edwin and Phillip came barreling toward you, laughing and out of breath, their hands full of something they clearly weren’t supposed to have.

"Y/N!" Edwin shouted, holding up a small sack of apples. "Look what we got!"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "And how exactly did you 'get' those?"

Phillip, ever the quieter one, shifted nervously on his feet. "We didn’t steal them! Mr. Turner gave them to us after we helped him with his cart."

You glanced over to where Mr. Turner, a kind old man who often sold apples at the market, was smiling and waving in your direction.

"Alright," you said, sighing with relief. "But you’d better not be causing any trouble."

Logan chuckled under his breath, watching the boys with amusement. "They’re just having fun."

"Yeah, until someone gets hurt," you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile at their excitement.

Edwin, noticing Logan for the first time, grinned. "Hey, Logan! You ever been in a real fight?"

Logan smirked, glancing at you before turning back to the boys. "A couple."

Edwin’s eyes lit up. "Tell us about one!"

"Edwin," you warned, shaking your head. "Logan doesn’t have time to tell you all his stories."

But Logan didn’t seem to mind. He crouched down to the boys’ level, his expression serious as he spoke in that low, gravelly voice of his.

"Alright, but just one. There was this guy… big, tough-looking fella, thought he could take me down. We were out in the middle of nowhere, no one around for miles. He comes at me with this huge stick, thinking that’ll be enough."

Edwin and Phillip leaned in, wide-eyed, hanging on every word.

"So, what happened?" Edwin asked, barely able to contain himself.

Logan’s smirk deepened. "Let’s just say, he learned real quick not to mess with me."

The boys erupted into laughter, completely captivated by the idea of Logan taking down some big, burly guy.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. "You’re gonna give them ideas, you know."

Logan stood, shrugging casually. "Kids need a little excitement."

"Not too much," you muttered, though you were grateful for the way he interacted with them. Most men in the city didn’t have the patience for children, especially not boys as wild as Edwin and Phillip.

As the boys ran off again, Logan glanced over at you, his expression softening just a bit.

"They look up to you," he said quietly.

You looked down, shrugging. "They’re good kids. Just need someone to look after them."

Logan was quiet for a moment, watching the boys as they disappeared into the crowd. Then, almost as if the thought had just occurred to him, he turned back to you.

"You ever think about having your own?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You hadn’t really thought about it—not seriously, anyway. Your life was too full of other people’s children, other people’s problems.

"I don’t know," you said slowly, glancing up at him. "Maybe someday. If I ever get that cabin, I might think about it."

Logan nodded, but didn’t say anything more. He just walked beside you, the two of you falling back into that easy, comfortable silence.

It wasn’t until later, as you lay in bed that night, that you found yourself thinking about his question again. The idea of a quiet life, away from the noise and chaos of the city, didn’t seem so impossible anymore—not when you imagined Logan there with you.

---

One night, after you had put the boys to sleep and were in Ada’s room to read a story to her, she asked you a question. “Why aren’t you like mama and papa?”

You raised your head from the book you were reading to her, “what do you mean?”

Her lips formed a small pout, “mama has papa, but you don’t have anyone.”

You blinked, caught off guard by Ada’s question. Her innocent curiosity made your heart ache, but you kept your voice steady.

“Well, sweetie,” you started, trying to find the right words, “sometimes, people are just on their own for a little while. It doesn’t mean they won’t find someone. Maybe they just haven’t yet.”

Ada considered this, her small brow furrowed in thought. “But you’re so nice. Why doesn’t anyone love you?”

The simplicity of the question stung more than it should have. You chuckled softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s not that simple, Ada. But thank you for saying that.”

She didn’t seem satisfied with your answer, her tiny face still scrunched up in confusion. “Don’t you get lonely?”

You hesitated, glancing out the window at the darkening sky. The truth was, sometimes you did. Even though you were surrounded by people—taking care of the children, managing the house—you couldn’t deny that feeling creeping in every now and then.

“I have you, don’t I?” you finally said, smiling down at her. “And Edwin and Phillip. You three keep me pretty busy.”

Ada giggled softly at that, settling into her blankets. “I guess. But I think you should find someone, like mama did.”

You gave her a light kiss on the forehead, smoothing down her hair. “Maybe one day, kiddo.”

Ada yawned, her eyes drooping as sleep crept up on her. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Ada,” you whispered, watching her drift off. You stayed there for a moment longer, thinking about her words, before quietly slipping out of the room.

The house was silent as you made your way down the hall, but your mind was anything but. Her innocent question stirred something inside of you, a longing that you hadn’t let yourself fully acknowledge. It wasn’t like you to dwell on what you didn’t have, but maybe… maybe Ada was right. Maybe there was something missing.

But it wasn’t something you could focus on right now. You had responsibilities. This family depended on you, and that was enough for now. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

As you reached your room and closed the door behind you, you caught sight of the bouquet of wildflowers Logan had quietly bought earlier in the day. You hadn’t noticed him purchase them at the market, but when you returned to the house, they were there on the doorstep, a small note attached that simply read, Thought you’d like these.

You smiled to yourself, gently picking up the flowers and placing them in a vase by the window. You hadn’t thought much about having someone of your own, but as you looked at the flowers, you couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like.

And, for the first time in a long while, the idea didn’t seem so far away.

---

The next few days passed quietly, with Logan visiting you at the market more frequently, though neither of you mentioned the wildflowers. There was an unspoken understanding between you—neither of you rushed things, but the connection was undeniably growing.

One afternoon, as you sat outside with Ada on your lap, reading her a story, Logan appeared at the gate. The children spotted him first, of course, and Edwin ran over, grinning ear to ear.

“Logan! You’re back!” he shouted, tugging at Logan’s coat. “Did you bring us any stories?”

Logan gave a soft grunt, glancing over at you with a smirk. “I might have one or two left.”

You shook your head, amused. “They’ll never leave you alone if you keep telling them stories, you know.”

Logan crouched down, ruffling Edwin’s hair. “I don’t mind,” he said, his gaze softening as he glanced at Ada in your lap. “How’re you doin’, kid?”

Ada looked up from the book and smiled shyly, giving him a small wave. “Hi, Logan.”

He smiled, the sight of the children always easing something in him, though he didn’t let it show too much.

As the kids ran off to play, Logan took a seat beside you on the bench. The two of you sat in silence for a while, watching the children chase each other across the yard.

“They’re good kids,” Logan said finally, breaking the quiet.

“They are,” you agreed. “They’ve got a lot of love to give, and not always enough people around to give it to.”

Logan turned his head slightly, his eyes studying you. “That include you?”

You looked down, fidgeting with your skirt. “Maybe. I spend so much time looking after everyone else, sometimes I forget there’s more to life than just… this.”

Logan didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly. Then, his voice low, he asked, “You ever think about finding something more?”

You turned to him, surprised by the question. “I don’t know if I’ve let myself think that far ahead,” you admitted, your heart beating a little faster under his gaze.

Logan looked away, his jaw tightening slightly as if he was holding something back. “Maybe you should.”

The weight of his words lingered in the air between you, and for the first time, you felt a pull—a possibility of something beyond the life you’d built here. Something you hadn’t allowed yourself to dream about until now.

But before either of you could say more, the children’s laughter echoed through the yard, and the moment passed. Still, the feeling stayed with you long after Logan left that evening.

---

The sky had taken on that soft orange hue of evening, the kind that made the whole world feel suspended between day and night. You and Logan walked side by side along the Hudson River, the sound of water gently lapping against the shore mixing with the distant hum of the city. It had become your routine over the past few weeks, these evening walks—quiet, almost intimate, even though neither of you said much.

Today, though, something felt different. Logan had been quieter than usual, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his usual gruff demeanor softened by the fading sunlight. Every now and then, you’d catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, as if there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice cutting through the comfortable silence.

Logan nodded, though his expression didn’t quite match the motion. “Yeah, just… thinkin’.”

“About?”

He stopped walking, turning to face the river. You followed his gaze, watching the way the sun’s reflection danced on the surface of the water. After a long moment, he spoke.

“I’ve never really… had this before,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Y’know, just… bein’ with someone like this. Feels kinda strange.”

You smiled softly, stepping closer to him, close enough that your arm brushed against his. “Strange in a good way?”

Logan let out a short, almost nervous chuckle. “Yeah. In a good way.”

The two of you stood there, side by side, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. You could feel the warmth of his presence, his arm just barely touching yours, and it sent a small thrill through you. You hadn’t been sure at first if what you felt for Logan was mutual—he was quiet, reserved, hard to read—but moments like this, when the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, made it clear. There was something unspoken between you, something neither of you had dared to put into words.

After a while, you turned to face him, studying the way his brow was furrowed, like he was deep in thought.

“Logan,” you said softly.

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a kind of intensity that made your heart skip a beat. For a moment, neither of you moved, the air thick with something unsaid.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out and took his hand, your fingers slipping into his. Logan stiffened at the touch, his eyes flicking down to where your hands were joined, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he stepped closer, his fingers curling around yours, holding on a little tighter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before either,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s gaze softened, his usual guarded expression cracking just enough to let something more vulnerable show through. He hesitated, like he was trying to find the right words, but then decided words weren’t necessary.

Instead, he took a small step forward, his free hand coming up to gently cup the side of your face. His touch was warm, rough, but there was a surprising tenderness in the way his thumb brushed lightly against your cheek. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, his eyes flicking between yours as if asking for permission.

When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance.

The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But the second your lips met his, something inside you seemed to melt, and you leaned into him, deepening the kiss. Logan responded in kind, his grip on your hand tightening as he pulled you closer, the space between you disappearing entirely.

For a moment, it was just the two of you—the sound of the river fading away, the world narrowing down to the warmth of Logan’s lips against yours, the feel of his hand cradling your face like you were something precious.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing a little heavier, your foreheads resting against each other as you stood there, wrapped in the soft glow of the setting sun.

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave you a small, almost sheepish smile. “Didn’t think I’d be kissin’ you tonight.”

You laughed softly, still a little breathless. “Neither did I.”

He pulled you closer, resting his chin on top of your head as he held you against him. The two of you stood there in the fading light, wrapped up in each other, the world beyond the river momentarily forgotten.

---

Logan thought back to your conversation about living in a cabin more than he cared to admit. The thought of it seemed nice, peaceful, and dare he say it perfect.

After a few weeks of being together, Logan had made a decision and scrounged up any money he could before buying a modest ring from a jeweler. He wasn’t going to propose yet but carrying the ring in his pocket felt right.

He had been coming over to the Thomases’ sprawling estate more often, whether it was walking with you from the market to the large house or even just stopping by of his own will. At first, it had been an occasional thing—a quiet visit here, a quick walk there—but lately, Logan found himself looking for excuses just to be around. You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the way your eyes lit up when you saw him made him feel something unfamiliar, something good.

One late afternoon, Logan leaned against the garden gate, watching as you knelt by a row of flowers, tending to them with your usual care. He couldn’t help but admire the sight—your sleeves rolled up, hair slightly tousled from the breeze, a small smile on your lips as you worked. It made something in his chest tighten. He fingered the ring in his pocket, feeling its weight. He had no plan to use it anytime soon, but carrying it felt right, like a promise to himself.

You glanced up, catching his eye, and smiled, wiping your hands on your apron as you stood. "Back again, Logan?"

"Guess so," he replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thought you might need a hand."

"Well, I could always use one," you teased, stepping closer to him. "But you don’t strike me as the gardening type."

Logan chuckled, reaching out to take your hand, pulling you a little closer. "Not much of a gardener, no. But I can stand here and look good while you do all the work."

You rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t let go of his hand. The easy banter between you had become natural, and the affection between you had grown, unspoken but undeniable. After a moment, you tugged him toward a bench under a nearby tree.

“Sit with me for a minute,” you said softly. “I’ve been out here all day.”

He followed, sitting beside you as the evening breeze rustled the leaves above. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun began to set. Logan glanced at you from the corner of his eye, the warm light catching the curve of your face.

“You ever think this is enough?” he asked suddenly, his voice quiet but clear.

You looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”

Logan hesitated, his fingers still laced with yours. “Just… this. Bein’ together. Doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.”

You smiled softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I think it is enough,” you said after a moment. “I like this, Logan. I like us.”

His heart beat a little faster at your words, and without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it felt natural, like something he’d been wanting to do for a while. You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes, your lips curving into a gentle smile.

“You keep that up, and I’m never gonna let you go,” you teased, though there was something softer, almost serious, in your tone.

Logan smirked, pulling you closer until your legs brushed against his. “Don’t see a reason to.”

Your fingers traced absent patterns on the back of his hand, your touch light and thoughtful. “You know, I used to wonder if I’d ever feel this way about someone,” you admitted softly, your eyes focused on your hands. “If I’d ever meet someone who made me feel… like this.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, watching you, feeling the warmth of your words settle deep inside him. He’d never thought he’d find someone who made him feel like this either—like he didn’t have to keep moving, like maybe he’d found something worth staying for. He wanted to tell you that, to say what he was feeling, but the words stuck in his throat. So instead, he squeezed your hand, hoping you’d understand what he couldn’t say yet.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The connection between you, the pull, was undeniable. Logan leaned in, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, tender, like both of you were taking your time, savoring the moment. When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his, and for a second, the world outside the garden didn’t exist.

“I could stay like this forever,” you whispered, your breath warm against his lips.

Logan’s hand tightened on yours. “Maybe we will,” he murmured back, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

You smiled, your eyes soft as you leaned in and kissed him again, slow and sweet. When you pulled back this time, you didn’t say anything, just settled into his side, your head resting against his chest as the two of you watched the sky shift into shades of pink and orange.

The world outside may have been complicated, full of responsibilities and noise, but here, with Logan beside you, it felt simple. Peaceful. Like this was all that mattered.

---

One late afternoon, you were sitting on the porch with Ada and the boys, telling them stories while they played at your feet. Logan leaned against the fence, watching you from a distance, his heart swelling at the sight of you surrounded by the children, laughing and carefree.

“You look like you’re thinkin’ about somethin’ serious,” your voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. You stood up, walking over to him, a teasing smile on your face.

Logan shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just thinkin’ about how you handle those kids like it’s nothin’.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Trust me, it’s something. They’re a handful.”

Logan smiled, reaching out to take your hand. “You’re good at it. I like watchin’ you with them.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his compliment, and you glanced down, trying to hide the small smile playing at your lips. “Well, you’re not so bad with them yourself. Edwin won’t stop talking about that story you told him.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Kid’s got a wild imagination.”

You leaned in closer, your fingers playing with the hem of his sleeve. “Maybe he gets that from you.”

He smirked, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “Think so?”

“I know so,” you whispered, your breath brushing against his neck.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of you, standing in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Logan’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin before he leaned down and kissed you, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of your lips against his.

When he pulled back, your eyes were half-closed, your expression soft and content. “Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What are we doing?”

He looked at you, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your cheek. “Doin’ what feels right.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah. It does feel right.”

The sound of the children’s laughter broke the quiet moment between you, and you both turned to see Ada running toward you, her little legs carrying her as fast as they could. “Y/N! Y/N!” she shouted, her face flushed with excitement. “Come play with us!”

You laughed, pulling away from Logan just enough to crouch down and catch Ada in your arms. “Alright, alright! I’m coming.”

As you stood, you glanced back at Logan, your eyes lingering on him for a moment longer. He gave you a small nod, his lips quirking into a smile, and you turned back to the children, running off with them into the yard.

Logan watched you for a while longer, his hand slipping into his pocket where the small ring rested. It wasn’t time yet, but someday, maybe he’d ask. Someday, when the moment was right.

For now, this was enough.

And for the first time in his life, that was all Logan wanted.

---

“Mrs. Thomas is sick. She wanted me to pick up some things for her before the doctor comes to check her out,” you explained, adding a sprig of thyme to your basket and handing the vendor a coin.

Logan stood beside you, hands stuffed in his pockets, watching you with a casual ease that had become second nature to him. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked, though his tone wasn’t heavy—just curious.

You shrugged, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Probably just a cold. She’s been coughing a bit, but Mr. Thomas thinks she’ll be fine.”

Logan’s jaw ticked slightly, his eyes following the movement of your hand as it tucked the hair behind your ear. “You sure you should be around her if she’s sick?”

You smiled at his concern, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “It’s part of the job, Logan. Besides, I’ve been with her every day. If I was going to get sick, it would’ve happened by now.”

He frowned, not entirely convinced, but let it drop. You were stubborn like that—always brushing things off when they concerned you.

As you moved from stall to stall, picking out fresh herbs, bread, and tea, Logan trailed beside you, a silent presence at your side. It was comfortable—natural, even. You could feel him close, his arm brushing yours now and then, and though neither of you said much, it was the kind of quiet that felt good.

When you handed the grocer a coin for a small loaf of bread, Logan’s voice broke the easy silence. “You want me to walk you back?”

You glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Trying to sneak more time with me?”

Logan grinned, his hands still tucked in his coat pockets. “Maybe.”

Your laugh was soft and warm, and Logan swore it was one of his favorite sounds.

“You don’t have to, but I won’t say no if you want to,” you teased, shifting the basket on your hip. “The Thomases live all the way across town, though.”

Logan rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Don’t mind.”

With that settled, the two of you set off toward the Thomases’ estate, falling into step beside each other. The streets bustled with the usual afternoon crowds—vendors hawking their goods, carts rattling down cobbled roads, children darting through the streets. Yet somehow, it felt like the two of you existed in your own little world, insulated from the noise of the city.

“You been working much?” you asked after a moment, glancing sideways at him.

Logan nodded. “Yeah. Couple of odd jobs here and there.”

“Same ones?”

“Mostly.” He paused, as if debating whether to say more. Then, with a smirk, he added, “Not much call for a guy like me who’s no good with flowers.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy. “Well, I’m sure someone will take pity on you eventually.”

He bumped his shoulder against yours gently. “You already did.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed on your face. “Lucky you.”

The walk was long, but neither of you minded. You pointed out things along the way—shops you liked, shortcuts you’d found, little bits of the city you’d come to know well in your time working for the Thomases. Logan listened, his attention fixed on you, and though he didn’t say much, you could tell he was soaking up every word.

When the two of you reached the tall iron gates of the Thomases' estate, you hesitated, lingering just a bit longer with Logan at the edge of the garden.

“Thanks for walking me,” you said softly, your fingers brushing over his for the briefest second.

“Anytime,” he murmured, catching your hand before you could pull it away. He gave it a squeeze, his eyes lingering on yours. “You alright?”

You nodded. “I’m fine, Logan. Just worried about Mrs. Thomas, I guess.”

He studied you for a beat longer, his thumb absentmindedly brushing the back of your hand. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

You gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand in return. “Yeah. I will.”

Neither of you moved at first, as if caught in a moment you weren’t quite ready to let go of. Logan’s gaze flickered to your lips, and for a second, you thought he might kiss you—right there at the gate, with the late afternoon sun warming your skin and the scent of lavender drifting from the garden.

But instead, he leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to leave you breathless.

“See you soon,” he murmured against your skin.

You swallowed, your heart thudding in your chest. “See you soon,” you whispered back.

Logan stepped away, his hands reluctantly slipping from yours, and you watched as he made his way back down the path. He didn’t look back, but somehow, you knew that he felt the same pull you did—the one that always seemed to draw you closer, no matter how far apart you were.

With a soft sigh, you turned and pushed open the gate, your basket swinging gently at your side as you made your way toward the house. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the neatly trimmed lawn.

You didn’t know it yet, but the weight of that moment—of Logan’s hand in yours, of the way his kiss had felt against your skin—would stay with you. It would become one of those memories you’d carry in the quiet hours, long after everything had changed.

But for now, it was just another afternoon. And that was enough.

You slipped inside the Thomases’ estate, greeted by the familiar smell of baked bread and lavender from the garden. The children’s laughter echoed faintly from upstairs, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the unease you felt about Mrs. Thomas.

As you moved through the grand hallway, the weight of Logan’s lingering kiss on your temple stayed with you, soft and comforting. His presence, though absent now, always seemed to cling to the air around you like the warmth of a hearth after a long day.

“Y/N!” Edwin’s voice called from the top of the stairs. You looked up to find him peering down at you, his unruly curls falling into his eyes. “Can we go to the park after tea? Phillip says he can run faster than me, but I bet I’ll beat him this time.”

You smiled up at him, though your thoughts were still on Mrs. Thomas. “We’ll see about that, Edwin. But let’s check in on your mother first, alright?”

He nodded, though his face fell a little, understanding the importance of that moment.

Making your way to Mrs. Thomas’s room, you found the air heavier, a staleness clinging to it that made you pause at the door. You knocked softly before entering, the creak of the door barely disturbing the quiet. Mrs. Thomas lay in bed, propped up by pillows, her face pale and drawn. Her once vibrant eyes were duller now, and the small cough you had heard earlier seemed more persistent, rattling in her chest.

“Mrs. Thomas,” you said gently, approaching her bedside with the basket of fresh supplies. “I’ve brought some thyme and tea. The doctor will be here later this week.”

Mrs. Thomas offered a faint smile, though it barely touched her lips. “Thank you, dear. You’re always so thoughtful,” she said, her voice raspy. She shifted slightly, wincing at the effort it took. “I’m sure it’s just a little cold.”

You forced a smile, though something inside you tugged with worry. “Of course. Just a little cold.”

After a few more moments, you excused yourself, promising to return later. The house felt stifling, the sense of something being wrong making your chest tighten. Logan had been right to be concerned. But you brushed it aside, focusing on the children.

A few hours later, after Edwin had indeed beaten Phillip in a race through the park, and Ada had insisted on collecting wildflowers for her mother, the three children were settled with tea. You were cleaning up the kitchen when a familiar knock came at the back door.

Opening it, you found Logan leaning against the frame, that easy smile already softening the tension in your shoulders.

“Thought you might like some company,” he said, stepping inside and pulling you into a gentle embrace. The warmth of his arms around you instantly melted away the weight of the afternoon, and for a moment, you simply leaned into him, breathing him in.

“Good timing,” you murmured into his chest. “The kids are winding down for the night. Edwin’s convinced he’s going to be the fastest man in the world.”

Logan chuckled, his chest vibrating against your cheek. “Is that so? Guess I’ll have to challenge him one day.”

You smiled, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “He’d love that.”

There was a beat of quiet as Logan’s hand came up to brush a stray hair from your face, his thumb lingering just under your jaw. His gaze softened, searching yours for something. It was moments like this—small, tender—that reminded you just how much you’d come to care for him in these past few weeks.

“You alright?” he asked, voice low.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Just… worried about Mrs. Thomas. I don’t know, Logan, she seems worse than she’s letting on.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, his hands slipping down to rest on your waist. “She’s tough, right? She’ll pull through.”

You nodded again, though the doubt lingered. “I hope so.”

Logan leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, the weight of his presence anchoring you. “You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

“I will,” you whispered, your hands resting on his chest.

He pulled back just enough to catch your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. It was familiar, the way his mouth moved against yours—steady, comforting, with that undercurrent of longing that always seemed to simmer just beneath the surface between you two. When you finally parted, his thumb brushed your cheek, his gaze still locked on yours.

“I hate leaving you here,” he murmured, the frustration clear in his voice. “Especially with her sick.”

You smiled softly, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine, Logan. Go home, get some rest.”

He gave a small grunt, clearly not thrilled with the idea of leaving, but he knew better than to argue when you got like this—determined and stubborn.

With a sigh, he leaned in once more, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “Alright. But I’m checking in tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you teased, though the warmth in your chest grew at his protectiveness.

Logan gave you one last smile before turning to head back out into the night, his coat swaying as he disappeared into the shadows. You watched him go, the familiar tug in your chest pulling at you again, but this time it wasn’t just affection. It was worry—a gnawing sense of unease that had been creeping in since that afternoon in the market.

You stood there at the back door for a moment longer, staring into the empty street, wondering if Logan could feel it too—the quiet, unspoken fear that something was about to change.

---

The next few days passed quietly, the routine of the Thomases’ household carrying on as usual—though the coughs from Mrs. Thomas’s room seemed to grow more frequent, more strained. You tried not to think too much of it, telling yourself it was only a cold, that the doctor would sort it out when he came to visit. But there was a part of you, small but insistent, that couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at your thoughts.

The children kept you busy, of course. Edwin was endlessly energetic, challenging Phillip to races and daring Ada to climb the low trees in the garden, much to your chagrin. Ada, sweet and delicate, clung to your side like a shadow, her small hand often finding yours as she babbled on about her imaginary tea parties and grand adventures. In their presence, it was easy to forget the worry in the back of your mind—at least for a little while.

But then, in the quiet moments—like when you helped Mrs. Thomas to her bed after one of her coughing fits, or when the house seemed far too still after the children had fallen asleep—your thoughts would drift back to Logan. To the way he had kissed your forehead that day at the back door, how his hand had lingered in yours just a second longer than usual, as if he’d sensed it too. That something was wrong.

You found yourself waiting for him. Every evening, as the sun dipped low over the city and the shadows lengthened in the streets, you listened for that familiar knock at the back door. And every evening, without fail, he would come—never too late, never too early, always arriving when you needed him most.

Tonight was no different.

You were sitting at the small table in the kitchen, a pot of tea cooling beside you, when the soft knock came. A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it, your heart lifting in that familiar way as you crossed the room and opened the door.

Logan stood there, his dark hair slightly tousled from the evening breeze, his expression soft but watchful. He gave you that crooked smile that always seemed to make everything feel lighter, as if the world wasn’t such a heavy place when he was around.

“Thought I might find you here,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

You shrugged, the smile still playing on your lips. “Where else would I be?”

He chuckled, moving to lean against the counter, his eyes flicking briefly to the teapot on the table. “You drinking alone?”

“For now,” you teased, pouring him a cup. “But I suppose I can share.”

Logan took the cup from you, his fingers brushing yours in that familiar way, sending a small, warm spark through your skin. He didn’t move to sit, though. Instead, he stayed close, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to read something in your face.

“What?” you asked softly, the weight of his stare making your heart flutter.

“Just checking in,” he said, his voice lower, more serious than before. “You look tired.”

You gave a small, weary laugh, shaking your head. “I’m fine, Logan. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Mrs. Thomas?” he guessed, sipping his tea.

You nodded, glancing at the floor. “She’s getting worse. I’m trying not to worry, but… I don’t know, something doesn’t feel right.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, and he set his cup down, moving to stand beside you. His hand came up to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of your sleeve. “If you need me to do anything—get more medicine, fetch the doctor sooner—you just say the word.”

You met his gaze, your chest tightening at the concern etched into his face. He always made you feel safe, even when you didn’t want to admit how scared you were. You reached up, covering his hand with yours, squeezing it gently.

“I know,” you murmured. “Thank you.”

For a moment, the room was quiet again, the sounds of the city muted by the walls of the house. You could hear the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth, the distant hum of life outside, but here, in this small space, it felt like it was just the two of you. Just the two of you, and the warmth of his hand on your shoulder.

Logan shifted slightly, turning to face you more fully, his other hand coming to rest at your waist. He tugged you closer, his expression softening as he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead in that tender way that always made your heart skip. But this time, he didn’t stop there. He tilted your chin up gently, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“C’mere,” he whispered, and you didn’t need any more coaxing.

Your arms slid up around his neck, pulling him in as his lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was soft at first, tender, but there was a quiet intensity behind it, a sense of urgency you hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the weight of the unspoken worry hanging between you, or maybe it was just that every time you kissed him, it felt like it could be the last. Either way, you melted into him, savoring the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his hands tightened around your waist as if he didn’t want to let you go.

When you finally pulled back, your breath mingling with his, Logan rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he let out a long, slow sigh.

“Stay with me tonight,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You hadn’t meant to say it, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them. The thought of being alone with your worries, of facing the uncertainty of Mrs. Thomas’s illness by yourself, suddenly felt unbearable.

Logan’s eyes opened, his gaze soft but searching as he studied your face. “You sure?”

You nodded, your hands still resting at the nape of his neck. “I just… I don’t want to be alone.”

He didn’t hesitate after that. With a soft, reassuring smile, he nodded and pressed another kiss to your temple. “Alright. I’m here.”

---

The doctor had come by some days later bringing by news, Mrs. Thomas had tuberculosis. He gave her at least another month to live.

Mr. Thomas had instructed you to not let the kids near her as often, to make sure they don’t get sick. He didn’t seem to care much about Logan spending the night with you, or letting the kids be around him.

Logan had been spending more nights with you, by your request. It wasn’t something you talked about, just a quiet understanding between the two of you. The nights felt warmer with him beside you, the weight of the world a little lighter when you could lean against him. He never made a big deal out of it either. It was just...natural.

Tonight was no different. You sat by the fire in the small parlor, the children long since asleep upstairs. The flicker of the flames cast shadows across the room, and you caught yourself glancing toward the door, waiting for that familiar knock.

When it came, it was soft, almost hesitant. But you smiled, already rising to your feet to let him in. Logan stepped inside, brushing off the chill of the night as he shook the snow from his coat.

“Snow’s picking up out there,” he muttered, shrugging off the heavy coat and hanging it by the door. “Thought I’d get here before it got too bad.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as you watched him. “I’m glad you did.”

He crossed the room, and without another word, his arms wrapped around you. You melted into his chest, resting your head against him as the fire crackled in the hearth. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand running down your back.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, his voice low. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

You sighed, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s… everything with Mrs. Thomas, the kids… I’m trying to keep it together.”

Logan frowned, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. “You don’t have to do it all yourself. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you said softly. “But I feel like I have to.”

“You don’t,” he repeated, his eyes searching yours. “I’m here.”

That simple statement hit you harder than you expected. You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss. He responded instantly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss as if he needed it as much as you did. It was slow and tender, and you found yourself pulling him closer, trying to forget the weight of everything else, if only for a moment.

When you finally pulled back, Logan rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“You should sleep,” he whispered. “You’re exhausted.”

“Will you stay?” you asked, your voice small.

“Always,” he said without hesitation.

---

The nights blurred together. Logan was there more often than not, sometimes waiting for you when you finished putting the children to bed, other times arriving late after a day spent working. You hadn’t asked where he went during the day, and he hadn’t volunteered the information. It didn’t matter. When he was with you, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

The children, especially Ada, had continued asking why she couldn’t see her mother as often. It had broke your heart to tell her and the boys that their mom was sick, not going any further than that.

“They’ll understand one day,” Logan had said, trying to comfort you as you sat by the fire one evening. His arm was around your shoulders, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm.

You nodded, but the heaviness in your chest wouldn’t lift.

“I just want to help,” you murmured. “But I can’t.”

Logan was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low. “You’re doing more than you think, Y/N. Just being here for the kids, for her... it matters.”

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. There was something in the way he looked at you, something deeper than the usual concern. It was a look that made your heart skip, that made you realize just how much he had become a part of your life in such a short time.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before brushing his lips against yours in a slow, gentle kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing that connection, needing him.

When you finally pulled back, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Logan’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his touch soothing.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, as if the words alone could make everything right.

And for a moment, they did.

---

You could tell that after a month and a half, Mrs. Thomas didn’t have much time left. Maybe a week at the most. She was so young, barely 30 years old, and already having to face the inevitable. Her coughing had become more violent, her body thinner with each passing day, and the sparkle in her eyes was gone. She was fading right before your eyes.

It had been a long day. The kids were more restless than usual, likely sensing the shift in the household. You’d spent most of the afternoon calming Edwin and Ada while trying to keep Phillip out of trouble. Ada, in particular, had been clingy, holding onto your skirt as you moved about the house, asking you why her mother wasn’t coming out of her room anymore.

You gave her the same answer as always. “Your mama’s just resting, sweetheart.”

But even she seemed to sense something was off.

By the time the sun had started to set, you felt the exhaustion in your bones. You barely touched your dinner, pushing food around your plate before giving up entirely. It wasn’t just the physical tiredness, though. It was something deeper. A strange ache in your chest, one you couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the weight of everything—Mrs. Thomas’s worsening condition, the children, Logan...

You hadn’t seen him tonight, and that small part of you that had grown used to his presence felt the void acutely. He had a way of grounding you, of making everything seem less overwhelming, if only for a little while. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were beginning to rely on him more and more.

As you climbed the stairs to check on the children, your steps felt heavier than usual. Fatigue, you told yourself. Just fatigue.

When you entered Mrs. Thomas’s room to help her settle for the night, she gave you a weak smile. “Thank you, Y/N... for everything.”

You smiled back, brushing her hair away from her face as you helped her lie down. “Don’t mention it. You just rest.”

Her breathing was shallow, the sound rattling in her chest. You tried not to let it show on your face, but inside, that gnawing worry had grown into a full-fledged fear. You knew the end was coming soon. You just hoped the children wouldn’t have to watch her fade.

---

Later that night, after the house had fallen quiet and the children were asleep, you sat by the small fire in the kitchen. You stared at the flickering flames, trying to let the warmth chase away the chill in your bones, but it wasn’t working.

You weren’t surprised when you heard the soft knock at the back door. Logan’s timing had always been impeccable, showing up when you needed him most, even if you hadn’t called for him. You rose from your seat and opened the door, letting him in with a small, tired smile.

“Cold out there,” he muttered, brushing the snow from his shoulders before stepping inside. He took one look at your face, and his brows furrowed. “You look exhausted, Y/N.”

You waved him off, shutting the door behind him. “It’s been a long day. Mrs. Thomas is...”

He didn’t need you to finish. He’d been coming by enough to know how bad things had gotten.

Logan crossed the small space between you and placed a hand on your arm. “You should be resting too. When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

You let out a tired laugh, shaking your head. “What is that again?”

“Y/N,” he said, his tone a mix of teasing and concern. “You can’t keep running yourself ragged. You’re no good to the kids if you get sick.”

His words hit a little too close to home. That lingering ache in your chest hadn’t gone away, and now, with him standing so close, it seemed to press harder, making it difficult to breathe. You ignored it, trying to focus on his warm hand still resting on your arm, grounding you.

“I’ll be fine,” you said quietly, leaning against him just slightly. “I just... I need you here. That’s all.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he slipped his arms around you, pulling you close. You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes as his warmth enveloped you. It felt like everything else faded away when you were in his arms—like the weight of the world wasn’t quite so heavy.

“I’m here,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You stayed like that for a moment, just holding onto him, letting his presence soothe the anxiety that had been gnawing at you all day. His hands ran up and down your back in slow, soothing motions, and you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders sagging as the tension melted away.

But that ache in your chest didn’t fade. If anything, it seemed to settle deeper, a dull, persistent throb that you couldn’t quite shake.

“I don’t know how much longer she has,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Maybe a week. And the kids... I don’t know how to explain it to them.”

Logan sighed, his breath warm against your hair. “You’ll find the right words when the time comes. You always do.”

You weren’t sure about that, but you didn’t argue. Instead, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands still resting against his chest. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you could see the same worry you felt reflected in his gaze. But there was something else too—something softer, something that made your heart skip a beat.

Before you could say anything, Logan leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, tender kiss. It wasn’t rushed or urgent—just gentle, like he was trying to tell you without words that he was there, that you didn’t have to carry everything alone.

You kissed him back, your fingers curling into his shirt as you pulled him closer. For a few seconds, it was just the two of you, the world outside forgotten. But when you finally pulled back, the ache in your chest flared again, sharper this time, making you wince slightly.

Logan’s eyes narrowed, concern flashing across his face. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, brushing it off. “Just... tired, I guess.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it either. Instead, he kissed your forehead softly, his hands still holding you close. “You need to sleep. I’ll stay with you, okay?”

You nodded, letting him lead you to your small bedroom. As you lay down, Logan settled beside you, his arm draped around your waist as he pulled you close. You nestled against him, the warmth of his body soothing, but even as you drifted off to sleep, that strange ache lingered, a quiet reminder that something wasn’t right.

---

Over the next few days, you tried to ignore the fatigue that seemed to cling to you like a heavy blanket. You told yourself it was just the stress, the worry about Mrs. Thomas and the kids. But the truth was, deep down, you knew it was more than that.

Mr. Thomas had been around the house more often, spending almost every moment with his wife before she passed. It would only be a matter of days now. Her condition had deteriorated to the point where she was barely conscious most of the time, her labored breathing a constant reminder of the inevitable.

You moved quietly through the house, keeping the children occupied as best you could. Edwin and Phillip were rambunctious as always, but Ada had grown more subdued. She didn’t ask about her mother as often, as if sensing the unspoken truth everyone was trying to shield her from. You noticed how she clung to your side even more than usual, her small hands gripping your skirts, her wide eyes watching you with a kind of quiet understanding that broke your heart.

It was late afternoon, and the house was eerily quiet. The children were playing in the parlor, their laughter muffled behind the closed doors. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when a wave of exhaustion hit you. Your legs felt heavy, your chest tight. You hadn’t been sleeping well, the stress of Mrs. Thomas’s condition weighing on you, but this was different. Your appetite had been lacking for days, though you’d convinced yourself it was just nerves.

You leaned against the counter, taking a slow, deep breath to steady yourself. It would pass. You just needed rest.

Logan wasn’t due to visit tonight. He had mentioned something about work keeping him late, and you didn’t want to ask him to come by, though the ache in your chest—the one you tried to ignore—longed for his presence.

Shaking off the lingering fatigue, you made your way upstairs to check on Mrs. Thomas. As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard her soft, raspy breathing. You hesitated outside the door, your hand resting on the doorknob for a moment, before slowly opening it and stepping inside.

Mr. Thomas sat at his wife’s bedside, holding her hand gently. He glanced up at you, his face pale and drawn, the exhaustion of weeks of worry evident in his eyes. You gave him a small, comforting smile, though you weren’t sure how much comfort you could offer.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said quietly, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep and emotion. "For everything."

You nodded, moving to the other side of the bed to check on Mrs. Thomas. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and uneven. She didn’t stir when you adjusted the blankets around her. The room was stifling, the air heavy with the scent of sickness, and you fought the urge to cough, your throat suddenly dry.

“She’s peaceful,” you murmured softly, glancing at Mr. Thomas.

He nodded but didn’t say anything. His gaze was fixed on his wife, his hand never leaving hers.

You stayed for a moment longer, but the fatigue creeping up your spine forced you to excuse yourself. As you descended the stairs, your legs felt weaker than before, and a dull ache had settled in your chest. You rubbed absently at your throat, trying to shake off the discomfort. It was nothing, you told yourself. Just tired.

The evening stretched on, the children finally quieting down for bed. You tucked them in, lingering for a moment by Ada’s bedside. She reached for your hand, her tiny fingers curling around yours.

“Will Mama be better soon?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. “She’s resting, sweetheart,” you said softly. “Just keep being brave, alright?”

Ada nodded, her eyes already heavy with sleep, though the worry didn’t leave her small face.

Once they were all asleep, you returned downstairs, your body feeling heavier with each step. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting long shadows across the room. You sat by the fireplace, staring into the dying flames, and let the silence of the house settle over you.

And then there was a soft knock at the back door.

Your heart lifted despite the exhaustion weighing you down. You rose slowly and crossed the room, opening the door to find Logan standing there, snowflakes dusting his hair and coat. He gave you a crooked smile, his eyes scanning your face with concern.

“You look tired,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Really tired.”

“I’m fine,” you murmured, though the weariness in your voice betrayed you. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I finished earlier than I thought,” he said, shrugging off his coat and hanging it by the door. “Thought I’d check on you.”

Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You melted into him, resting your head against his chest as the warmth of his body seeped into yours. For a moment, the ache in your chest seemed to ease, the fatigue lifting just a little.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Logan pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he studied your face. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your skin. “I’m here.”

His lips met yours in a slow, tender kiss, and you felt the tension in your body begin to unravel. The warmth of his mouth, the familiar strength of his hands holding you close—it was all you needed in that moment. When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“You need to rest,” he murmured. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I will,” you promised, though you didn’t want to leave his arms just yet. You leaned into him, letting his presence chase away the exhaustion for a little longer.

---

The funeral was only 6 days later, 4 days after Mrs. Thomas’ passing. She was buried at the Prospect Cemetery at a small affair with rich people you had only heard of in passing.

The funeral was a somber affair. Mrs. Thomas was laid to rest under a sky that threatened snow, and you stood a little ways back, holding Ada’s hand tightly. She had been unusually quiet since her mother’s passing, and even Edwin and Phillip had sensed the weight of the occasion, their usual energy tempered by the somber mood.

You glanced around at the crowd gathered—a sea of dark, expensive fabrics, murmured condolences, and familiar faces. Most of the people you recognized only by name or through brief encounters at the Thomas house. They didn’t seem to belong to the world you inhabited, their whispered conversations and distant gazes a reminder of the divide between their lives and yours.

Mr. Thomas stood near the front, his face a mask of stoicism as he accepted words of sympathy. His children had not left your side, and you knew why. They found more comfort in you than in the strangers who seemed to only appear during tragedies. You didn’t blame them.

As the ceremony came to a close, Ada tugged at your hand. "Can we go home now?" she asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the sound of rustling leaves and shifting boots in the cold.

You nodded, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We can, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes.”

You caught Mr. Thomas’s eye as he stepped away from the others. He gave you a weary nod, and you knew it was time to leave. You guided the children back to the carriage, helping them inside before following. The ride home was silent, save for the occasional sniffle from Ada and the creaking of the carriage wheels on the cobbled streets.

---

Back at the house, the quiet felt heavier than before. You could feel the weight of grief settling over everything, and it seemed to seep into your bones, making the fatigue that had been gnawing at you for days feel unbearable. Once the children were settled, you retreated to the kitchen, needing a moment to yourself.

But the moment you sat down, the ache in your chest flared up again, sharper this time. You tried to breathe through it, but the tightness only seemed to get worse. A cold sweat broke out on your forehead, and you pressed a hand to your throat, willing it to pass. It felt like something more than just exhaustion now. Something was wrong, but you didn’t have time to worry about it.

The back door creaked open, and you startled, your hand flying to your chest as Logan stepped in. His eyes immediately found yours, narrowing in concern.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low but urgent as he crossed the room. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile as you tried to stand. “I’m just tired. Long day.”

But Logan wasn’t buying it. His hand caught yours, and he gently pulled you to him, his other hand resting on your waist. “You’ve been tired for days,” he said quietly, his eyes searching yours. “And you look worse now than you did a week ago.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, leaning into his warmth without thinking. “Just... everything with Mrs. Thomas. I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, just held you there, his thumb brushing slow circles against your hip. “You’re not fine,” he said softly. “You need to rest. You’re running yourself into the ground, and I don’t want—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you cut him off, shaking your head as you buried your face in his chest. “I just... I just want to stay like this for a while. Can we do that?”

Logan’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “We can stay like this as long as you need,” he whispered.

The warmth of his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest, calmed the rapid beating of your heart. It didn’t make the ache in your chest go away, but it dulled the edges for a little while. You stayed like that, your bodies swaying slightly, as if rocking back and forth would somehow soothe the turmoil inside you both.

After a long stretch of silence, Logan pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his gaze soft but serious. “You’ve gotta start taking care of yourself,” he murmured. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I will,” you promised, though you weren’t sure how much of it was for him and how much was for yourself. You could see the worry etched in his features, and it made your heart ache in a different way. “I just... I don’t want to leave the kids right now. They need me.”

Logan sighed, shaking his head slightly. “They need you alive and healthy, not running yourself ragged.”

You knew he was right, but the thought of stepping away—of not being there for them when they needed you most—made your stomach turn.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But I’m all they have right now.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently, his lips lingering against yours in a way that felt both comforting and urgent, as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N,” he murmured. “I’m here. Always.”

You closed your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over you. It was moments like this, in the quiet after the storm, that made everything feel bearable, even when the exhaustion seemed impossible to shake. You didn’t want to think about what came next—the inevitable questions from the children, the grief that would continue to hang over the house like a dark cloud.

For now, you just wanted to be here, with Logan, in this fleeting moment of peace.

---

Over the next few days, that small cough persisted, annoying but easy to brush off at first. You told yourself it was just the cold weather, or maybe the exhaustion still clinging to you. But it stuck around, and soon it wasn’t just a cough. Your chest felt heavier, and there were moments where you had to stop to catch your breath.

You didn’t say anything to Logan the first few nights he visited, not wanting to worry him. It wasn’t like you were coughing up blood or anything, and you figured it would pass, just like the fatigue had started to. But when he saw you rubbing your chest again, his eyes narrowed with concern.

“You’ve been coughing a lot,” Logan said one evening, his arm draped casually over your shoulder as you leaned into him by the fire. The warmth of the flames helped ease the tightness in your chest, but even then, it felt harder to breathe than it had before.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, tucking your legs under you and snuggling closer to him, hoping to avoid the conversation. “It’s just the cold. Everyone’s getting sick this time of year.”

Logan tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “Y/N, don’t pull that. I know you, and you’re coughing more than you should be. This isn’t just a cold.”

You sighed, not wanting to argue, but the exhaustion weighed on you, and fighting him off seemed too tiring. “Okay, maybe it’s not just a cold,” you admitted, glancing at him. “But it’s nothing serious. I’m just run down.”

Logan’s fingers gently traced up your arm, his touch familiar and grounding. He looked at you with that steady gaze of his, the one that made you feel safe. “You need to rest. Real rest, not just five minutes of sleep here and there between looking after the kids.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile, reaching up to touch his face. “I know. But they need me right now, especially Ada. She’s not taking this well, and I can’t just leave her.”

Logan leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re no good to them if you collapse from exhaustion.”

The way he said it—so serious, so protective—it made your chest ache in a different way. You knew he was right, but the thought of taking a step back when the kids were still hurting felt impossible.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, but your voice wavered just enough that Logan picked up on it.

He kissed you softly, slow and gentle, like he was trying to pour all of his concern into that one kiss. When he pulled back, his hand lingered on the side of your face. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself, Y/N,” he said softly. “I’m here.”

You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words, and for a moment, you let yourself believe it—that you didn’t have to do everything on your own.

But the next morning, as you moved through the house and got the kids ready for the day, the cough came back with a vengeance. It left you winded, gripping the counter to steady yourself as your breath caught in your throat. Ada was tugging at your skirt, asking for something, but the ringing in your ears made it hard to focus.

“Y/N?” her small voice called, but everything sounded distant.

You forced yourself to smile, pushing through the wave of dizziness. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” you said, though it was more for you than her. The ache in your chest was sharper now, and for the first time, a flicker of real fear crossed your mind.

That evening, when Logan came by, you didn’t have the energy to hide how bad you felt. The second he walked through the door, he saw it in your face.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice urgent as he rushed to your side. “What the hell happened? You look worse.”

You tried to brush it off, but the cough came again, harsher this time, and Logan’s eyes darkened with worry. His hands were on you, steadying you as you leaned into him, the warmth of his body grounding you again.

“You’re not fine,” he said, his tone more serious now. “I should’ve done something sooner.”

“Logan, don’t—”

“I’m taking you to a doctor,” he interrupted, his jaw set. “No arguing.”

You wanted to protest, but the truth was, you didn’t have the strength to fight him. You were too tired, too worn down, and part of you was scared. So you nodded, letting him pull you into his arms as if holding you close would make everything better.

“I’m here,” Logan whispered against your hair, his voice soft and filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “I’ll take care of you, okay? You’re not going through this alone.”

---

The next morning, Logan arrived earlier than usual. He wasn’t taking any chances, especially after the night before. You’d barely slept, your coughing keeping you awake for most of it, and when you did manage to drift off, it was only in short, restless intervals.

Logan helped you into the carriage he’d hired, his hands lingering on your arms longer than necessary, his brow furrowed with worry. He hadn’t said much since arriving, just a quiet “Mornin’” before ushering you outside. His concern was written all over his face, even though he tried to hide it behind a mask of calm.

You leaned back against the seat, closing your eyes as the carriage bumped along the cobbled streets. Each breath felt heavier, the tightness in your chest worsening by the day. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew this was more than just a cold. The cough had settled deep, rattling in your lungs, and even though you tried to convince yourself it was nothing serious, the thought that it could be something more was gnawing at you.

Logan sat beside you, his knee pressed against yours as he kept a protective hand on your leg. Every so often, you’d feel his gaze on you, watching, as if checking to make sure you were still holding on. The warmth of his presence was a comfort, even if you didn’t say it out loud.

When the carriage finally stopped, you opened your eyes and saw the modest sign hanging above the doctor's office. Logan didn’t waste any time helping you down, his arm tight around your waist as you made your way inside.

The waiting room was quiet, the air thick with the scent of medicinal herbs. Logan barely let go of you the entire time, his arm never leaving your waist, and when the doctor finally called you in, Logan made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

Inside the small exam room, the doctor—a middle-aged man with silver hair and a kind face—greeted you both with a nod. His expression shifted when he looked at you, though, his eyes softening in a way that made your stomach churn with nerves.

“How long have you had the cough, miss?” the doctor asked as you sat down, Logan standing right behind you.

“A few days,” you said, your voice raspy and weak. “Maybe a little longer.”

The doctor frowned slightly, moving closer to examine you. “And the fatigue? Any weight loss?”

You nodded. “Yes... I’ve been really tired, and I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

Logan’s hand rested on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there. The doctor continued his examination, listening to your chest with a stethoscope, his brow furrowing as he moved from side to side.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back, letting out a slow breath. He met your eyes, and you knew immediately that it wasn’t good.

“I don’t want to alarm you,” he began, his voice gentle. “But given your symptoms and the sound of your lungs, I believe you may have contracted tuberculosis.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight. You felt Logan tense behind you, his grip on your shoulder tightening ever so slightly.

Tuberculosis.

The sickness that had taken Mrs. Thomas. The same one that had been lingering in the house for weeks.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You’d heard the stories—the way it ravaged families, the way it spread so easily. You’d seen it firsthand with Mrs. Thomas, watching her waste away before your eyes.

“How... how bad is it?” Logan’s voice was rough, strained, like he was barely holding himself together.

The doctor glanced at him, his expression serious. “It’s hard to say right now. Tuberculosis can vary greatly in severity. We’ll need to monitor her closely. Rest, proper care, and keeping her away from others as much as possible will be essential.”

You tried to swallow, but your throat felt tight. “What... what do we do now?”

The doctor sighed. “We’ll start with treatment to help ease the symptoms—medicinal herbs, rest, and a strict diet. It’s crucial that you avoid any further exertion. You’ll need to isolate yourself to prevent it from spreading.”

You nodded, but your mind was spinning. The thought of being confined, of having to stay away from the children—it made your chest tighten even more. How were you supposed to care for them when you couldn’t even take care of yourself?

Logan crouched down in front of you, his eyes searching yours as he held your hands in his. “We’ll figure this out, okay?” he said softly. “You’ll rest, and I’ll help with the kids. You’re not doing this alone.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. You didn’t want to cry, didn’t want Logan to see how scared you really were.

“I don’t want to leave them,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “They need me.”

“I know,” Logan murmured, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand. “But they need you healthy, Y/N. And I need you healthy.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the sight of his worry. He was trying so hard to be strong for you, to keep it together, but you could see the fear in his eyes—the same fear you felt deep in your bones.

“We’ll get through this,” he said firmly. “You’re not going anywhere, okay? Not without a fight.”

You nodded, squeezing his hands as tightly as you could. Logan stayed close, his presence a steady, comforting force as the weight of the diagnosis settled over you both.

---

Weeks passed, and the house became quieter. The children were kept at a distance, the once lively home now feeling more like a tomb as you spent your days in bed, trying to gather what little strength you had left. Logan had taken over your duties, ensuring the children were cared for while also staying close to you.

Your body grew weaker with each passing day, the illness creeping deeper into your lungs. The once mild cough had turned into something far more painful, leaving you breathless and exhausted after every fit. You knew, deep down, that the end was approaching. You could feel it in the way your energy dwindled, the way even opening your eyes took effort.

Logan, on the other hand, refused to give up. He never spoke of what was coming, never let on that he saw the same inevitable truth. Instead, he clung to hope, pushing you to eat, to drink, to rest. His presence was a constant, grounding you even in your weakest moments.

Sometimes you even talked about the future, the one you knew you would never have, and the one Logan hoped you would, with him.

Your coughing fit had died down for now, leaving you in bed with your head resting against Logan’s shoulder. His arm was wrapped protectively around you, and the warmth of his body gave you a sense of comfort, even when the pain in your chest didn’t. You took in a shaky breath and spoke softly.

“I’ve always wanted a dog,” you murmured, your voice still weak. “Maybe two.”

Logan shifted slightly, his chin resting on top of your head. “Yeah? What kind?”

You shrugged, smiling a little. “Doesn’t really matter. I just like the idea of having something waiting for me at home, you know? Something happy to see me, no matter what kind of day I’ve had.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “You’d be a good dog mom.”

You looked up at him, a playful glint in your tired eyes. “You think?”

“Definitely. You’ve already got all the practice with the kids.” He paused, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. “Except maybe the dog would be less trouble.”

You laughed, but it turned into a cough, and you quickly brought a hand to your mouth. Logan tensed beside you, waiting until the coughing subsided before speaking again.

“You’re gonna get better, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice firm, but the edge of worry was clear. “We’ll get you that dog. Or two.”

You didn’t respond right away. You wanted to believe him—really, you did—but each day you felt weaker, and it was getting harder to ignore the reality of your situation. But you also didn’t want to drag him down with your fears, so you leaned into him instead, letting the moment linger.

You put your chin on his shoulder, looking up at him, “how many kids would you want?”

Logan looked at you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Kids, huh?” His voice was warm, teasing, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you, like he was imagining it for real.

“Yeah,” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, eyes searching his face. “I know it’s kind of silly to think about right now, but... I like the idea. You?”

He took a breath, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your arm. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Never really thought much about it until you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Until me?”

Logan chuckled softly. “Yeah. Before you, I wasn’t really thinkin’ about things like... a future, you know? I didn’t even know if I’d stay in the city long. But now... now I think about things I never used to.” He paused, glancing down at your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours. “Like kids, and... us.”

Your heart fluttered at that, the weight of his words settling in. He’d never said anything like that before—nothing about the future beyond today or tomorrow. It wasn’t like either of you knew what was coming, especially now, but hearing him say that he thought about you in that way made everything feel more real. More possible.

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “So, how many then? Two? Three?”

Logan laughed quietly. “Two sounds good. Just enough to keep us on our toes, but not so many we lose our minds.”

You giggled, a sound that quickly turned into a cough, and Logan’s smile faded a little, worry creeping back into his eyes. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just held you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from everything bad in the world.

Once the cough subsided, you leaned your head back against his chest. “I think you’d be a good dad, Logan.”

His hand stilled against your arm. “You think?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “You’re good with the kids now, even if you don’t realize it. They like you, trust you. You’d protect them... care for them.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you could feel the weight of his thoughts. “I’d try,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

The warmth of his body, the steadiness of his presence—it was enough to make you forget, for just a little while, how weak you felt. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfort of him, of this moment, even though you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like?” you asked quietly. “If we didn’t have to worry about... this.” You gestured vaguely, meaning the illness, the uncertainty, all of it.

“All the time,” Logan murmured. “But we’ve still got time, Y/N. I’m not giving up on you.”

You opened your eyes, looking up at him. “You really think we’ll make it through this?”

Logan’s gaze was unwavering. “I know we will.”

His confidence, his belief in you, in this, made your heart ache in the best way. You wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto that hope, even though the fear lingered in the back of your mind.

“You don’t have to be so tough all the time,” Logan said gently, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “It’s okay to lean on me.”

You looked at him, your chest tight for a different reason now. “I know.”

And you did. Logan was always there, steady and unshakable, even when you felt like you were falling apart. You didn’t have to do this alone, even if part of you still felt like you should.

Logan leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual. “I’m with you, Y/N,” he whispered. “No matter what.”

You closed your eyes again, savoring the warmth of his kiss, the feeling of his arms around you. For now, that was enough.

But even as you rested against him, part of you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that your time was running out.

---

Logan hated the fact that everything you said was in past tense. How you would’ve liked to learn how to bake bread in that cabin you wanted.

How you would’ve liked to learn how to crochet.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with a quiet intensity. You had been talking again, your voice soft and tired, about all the things you wished you had more time to do. It was starting to drive him crazy—the way you spoke in past tense, like you were already halfway gone.

“Would’ve liked to learn how to crochet,” he repeated softly, his eyes never leaving your face.

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. I always thought it’d be nice to make something with my hands. You know, like a blanket or something... for the cabin.”

Logan’s chest tightened. He hated this—hated that you were talking about all these little dreams like they were out of reach. He leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re gonna be fine, Y/N,” he said, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “You’ll still have time for all that.”

You met his gaze, your eyes soft but filled with something else—something that made his heart ache. “Logan...”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t get to talk like that. We’re gonna get you through this.”

You let out a soft sigh, your hand coming up to touch his cheek. “You don’t always have to be strong, you know. It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Logan said quickly, though the way he gripped your hand a little tighter gave him away. He wasn’t ready to admit it—to you, to himself—that the thought of losing you scared him more than anything he’d ever faced.

You smiled faintly, shifting on the bed so you could lean into him. “I know you, Logan. You don’t have to pretend for me.”

Logan felt his throat tighten as you pressed closer to him. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, trying to hold on to the moment for as long as he could. Your body felt so fragile against his, like you could break if he held you too tight. But he needed to feel you, to remind himself that you were still here.

“Don’t,” Logan said, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t talk like that.” He looked away for a second, trying to regain control of the storm raging inside him. He didn’t want to hear the finality in your voice, didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility that you might slip away from him.

You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you touched his cheek. “Logan, you know as well as I do...”

“No,” he repeated, cutting you off again, his voice gruff but shaky. His hand covered yours, pressing it gently against his face. “I’m not losing you. I don’t care what the doctor says. We’ll fight this. We’ll get through it.”

There was a long silence between you, the air heavy with the unspoken truth. You didn’t have the heart to argue with him, but you knew. You could feel it in your bones, in the way your body was failing you little by little every day. But Logan’s refusal to accept that reality made you love him even more, even if it hurt.

You gave him a sad smile, your eyes locking with his. “I love you, Logan.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. The weight of those words—words you’d both danced around but never truly said—hit him like a punch to the gut. He leaned in close, his forehead resting against yours, his voice barely a whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he finally said, his voice breaking just a little.

You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his words wash over you. It wasn’t fair, any of this. You’d only just begun to imagine a life with him, and now that future was slipping through your fingers.

Logan held you tighter, his arms wrapped around you as if he could protect you from everything, even death. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, before pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips. It wasn’t passionate or desperate—just soft, filled with all the love he hadn’t yet had the chance to show you.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your skin. “Always.”

And for a moment, despite the pain, despite everything, you believed him. Because even if the future was uncertain, even if you didn’t have much time left, you had this. You had him. And for now, that was enough.

---

Nothing had worked, and nothing was working.

You had already accepted your fate, but Logan couldn’t—no matter how many times you tried to explain. He kept his focus on you, his stubborn hope unwavering, even though you both knew time was running out.

“You’re gonna be fine, Y/N. You’ll see,” he said softly, sitting beside you on the bed. He brushed a hand through your hair, his touch gentle, but the worry in his eyes was impossible to miss.

You looked up at him, your chest tight—not from the sickness, but from the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment. “Logan... we need to talk about this.”

He shook his head immediately, his jaw clenched. “No, we don’t. We don’t have to talk about anything like that. You’re gonna get better, and we’ll figure everything out.” His voice cracked just a little at the end, betraying the fear he was trying to hide.

You reached for his hand, your fingers trembling as they closed around his. “I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to spend what little time we have left lying to ourselves.”

Logan looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. “But I can’t... I can’t think about losing you.”

“You don’t have to think about it,” you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. “But we need to be honest with each other. I’m not getting better, Logan. We both know that.”

His whole body tensed beside you, and he turned his head away as if looking anywhere but at you would somehow make your words less real. “I can’t... I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and leaned closer, pressing your lips softly to his jaw. “I love you, Logan. That’s all that matters to me right now.”

His breath hitched, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just sat there, holding you as if he could protect you from the inevitable, his arms tightening around you.

After a while, he finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I love you too. More than anything. That’s why I’m not giving up.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, your heart breaking for him. “I know you’re trying to protect me... but I don’t want you to carry this alone. I need you to be here with me, in this moment, not fighting something we can’t change.”

Logan’s eyes met yours, and for a second, the wall he’d built around himself seemed to crack. “I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to just... be.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” you whispered, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “You can let go.”

His eyes softened, and before you could say anything else, Logan leaned in and kissed you—soft, but with an intensity that made your heart ache. It was a kiss that said everything he couldn’t put into words: the fear, the love, the desperation to hold onto whatever time you had left.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky. “I don’t know how to say goodbye,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, your hand still resting on his cheek. “We don’t have to say goodbye yet. Just stay with me. That’s all I want.”

Logan didn’t respond with words. Instead, he held you tighter, his arms wrapping around you as if he could keep you with him through sheer willpower alone. You could feel the tremble in his hands, the way his breath hitched every now and then like he was fighting back tears.

For a while, you both stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading into nothingness. There was no cough, no sickness, no uncertainty—just the warmth of Logan’s body against yours and the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand.

Eventually, you spoke, your voice barely audible. “I wish we had more time.”

Logan’s grip tightened slightly. “Me too.”

You felt a lump in your throat, but you forced a small smile. “You know... if things were different, I think we’d have had a pretty good life together.”

Logan’s voice was thick with emotion as he replied, “We still will. Somehow... someday.”

You leaned your head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. “Maybe in another life.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but you could feel the way his body stiffened, like he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you again—even in another life.

“You don’t have to be alone, Logan,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with all the love you had left. “Promise me you won’t shut yourself off.”

He was silent for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough and raw. “I can’t promise that.”

You smiled faintly, knowing that was the best you were going to get from him. “Just... don’t forget me.”

Logan leaned down and pressed another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a long time. “I could never forget you.”

The room was quiet after that, the only sound the soft rustling of the blankets as Logan adjusted you in his arms, pulling you closer.

You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creeping in again, but this time it didn’t feel so overwhelming. With Logan’s warmth surrounding you, with his quiet strength holding you up, you felt at peace.

---

You had passed away in your sleep that night, in Logan’s arms. He had stayed up, something in his subconscious telling him to keep his eye on you.

And he did, he felt you take your last breath; one that didn’t seem as painful as when you were awake.

Logan held you close, his arms tightening around you instinctively as he realized what had just happened. His mind refused to process it, refused to accept that this was it. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with breaths that felt foreign in his own body. You weren’t moving anymore, not even the faintest stir.

For a long time, he didn’t let go. He couldn’t. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his face buried in your hair, willing his warmth into your body as if that could somehow bring you back.

"Y/N..." he whispered, his voice broken. He lifted his head slightly, his thumb brushing your cold cheek. "Please... wake up."

There was no answer.

Logan swallowed hard, his throat burning, his chest tightening. His hand trembled as it caressed your face, fingers gently tucking your hair behind your ear like he’d done a hundred times before. But this time, there was no playful smile in return. No teasing comment about how messy your hair always was.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

He let out a shaky breath, his other hand clutching the bedsheet, the weight of what had happened finally starting to crush him. He knew this moment was coming—he’d known it for weeks, maybe even months—but now that it was here, it didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how it had come to this, how someone as full of life as you could just... stop.

“Y/N... don’t do this... please,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible as if saying it any louder would make it more true. His hand lingered on your cheek, hoping for even the smallest sign that you’d take another breath.

But nothing came.

He stayed like that for a long time, just holding you, feeling the weight of your stillness.

Logan had never felt so powerless in his life. For all the things he could do, for all the strength in his bones, none of it could save you. His healing couldn’t save you. The realization cut him deeper than any wound ever had.

At some point, he felt his chest tremble, felt the tears start to burn at the corners of his eyes. He hadn’t cried in years, maybe ever—not like this—but he couldn’t stop it now. Not when he’d lost you.

“I... I love you,” he choked out, the words falling from his lips like a confession, like an apology for not saying it enough while you were still here to hear it. He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice breaking again. “I love you so much...”

The room was silent, except for the sound of Logan’s ragged breathing and the ticking of the old clock in the corner, each second passing with an agonizing slowness. He wished he could turn it back, go back to when you were still here—laughing, talking, smiling. Anything but this.

But he couldn’t.

And the weight of that realization shattered him.

For the first time in his life, Logan had no fight left in him. Not for this. Not without you.

i'm not gonna lie, i definitely started crying while writing those last few scenes, even though i knew how it was gonna end

just a little note for everyone (i'll probably add this at the end of every chapter just cause it helped me when writing) in this chapter, logan is 22 years old and reader is around the same age.

tags: @seasonofthenerd @golden-ebony @planetxella @tighrenicotine @wittyjasontodd @cherrypieyourface @tumharisakhi @person-005 @zaggprincess2

[lowkeyremi]

𝐃𝐀𝐃 ?!

pairing: aizawa x fem!reader note: thanks to @violetraccoon04 and @hiqhkey for giving me the inspiration to write this!! Part 3 of dating the teacher series ! (Pt 1 and pt 2) summary: class 2a has always wondered if their stoic teacher has a partner… huh.. the more you know! (This is set post war so class 1a are now second years.) content: fluff, crack, teasing, just class a being sillies. wc: 1.5k

Your favorite people in the whole world are soon to leave for school, one a teacher one a student. You check over both of them. From what you can see Denki has his backpack, his training bag, his lunch (which he complains about packing because he wants to eat at the cafeteria every single day) and his hero gear.

Shota on the other has all of his lesson planning things, his eyepatch on his face, a protein shake, coffee, lots of coffee and his scarf around his neck.

You look at them expectantly, but before you could say anything Shota beats you to it, “you sure you’re okay taking Eri in today?”

“Babe, I promise you it’s no big deal. Her school isn’t far from my workplace.” His eyes soften and he gives you the kiss that he gives you every time he has to leave. Of course the romantic moment is ruined by your son, “could you guys swap saliva some other time? yuck.”

Both you and Shota turn to glare at the high schooler and he just smirks accordingly.

“I’ll see you Friday, sweet boy. Stay out of trouble. Sho, you’ll be back before midnight right? Or do you have to patrol?” He smiles at you which puts your mind at ease. Even though the war has been over for a couple of months now, you still feel paranoid watching your son and husband leave out into danger.

“I’m patrolling until 10:30 so I’m pretty sure I’ll be back before midnight.” You let out a sigh of relief.

U.A. has let up on their strict policy of students being in the dorms at all times, and has allowed them to visit their families on the weekend, which is why you get to see Denki every weekend before he has to return to the dorms for the week.

“Is your laundry clean?”

“Yes, mom.”

“You’ve turned in all your assignments, right?”

“Yesssss, mom.”

“And you still have allowance to buy food if you nee-”

“He’s got everything, darling. Try not to worry too much.” You kiss Shota again, tension leaving your body.

“Okay. I’ll see you guys later. I love you both, stay safe.”

“Love you too mom!”

“We’ll be safe, bye baby.”

Denki had stopped by his dorm before heading to his home room… which also happened to be his first period class… and the man teaching the class is his stepdad.

The young boy was told by both you and Aizawa that their marriage was no secret and he could tell his friends if he pleased.

And yes, he had planned to.. awhile ago, but he’s just embarrassed sometimes. Not by you! Or Aizawa. He already considers the man his father, it’s just, what would his friends think? He knows most will probably be kind about it considering Aizawa is their teacher.

But he’s still scared of being ridiculed for such a thing. He lets those thoughts disappear as soon as he walks through the classroom door.

The first thing he does is go and bother Shinso. He had been trying to make the boy his friend but he is very closed off and hard for even Denki to talk to.

They’ve made progress though, mainly because Aizawa talked about how he’s trained the boy a few times.

“Hey Shinsoooo, wanna get lunch together later? Today’s lunch is always the best!”

“Don’t you always bring your own lunch on mondays?” Denki smiles, “yeah but you could always give me a little bit of yours and I’ll trade you some of mine! My mom’ll never find out.”

“Yeah no, I’m good.”

“Come on man!!! Please!!!” Before Shinso can deny him again Mina makes her way over to Denki and places her hand on his shoulder.

“Denki! How was your weekend? Do anything fun?” The boy stops himself from saying that he and Aizawa went shopping together to find you a birthday gift.

“Nahhh you know me, video games for life!” Mina rolls her eyes playfully.

“Alright, you know the deal, in your seats.” Aizawa mumbles out to the class.

Nobody wastes time finding their seats.

“I know you guys would rather work together or something but I’m gonna be lecturing today.” A couple of groans and sighs leave the lips of various 2-A students. Aizawa’s posture straightens and his look is deadly. Everyone else straightens up, but Denki has to keep himself from laughing.

He can’t take Aizawa seriously when he makes such sickeningly sweet faces to you at home.

“Would you like to share what’s so funny, Kaminari?” Your last name had been Kaminari before you got married. You gave your son the option to keep your maiden name or go with Aizawa and he chose your maiden name. He said that he didn’t want to get married one day and not have his own last name, whatever that meant.

“Uh, no sir.” He responds straightening his face.

“Now, if any of you have a problem with me lecturing you can go out in the hall and read the whole textbook.” Nobody makes a sound and for good reason, that textbook is thicker than a dictionary.

“As I thought. Now onto the lecture.”

Denki had been falling asleep during the lecture so half way through, in his sleepy state he raises his hand, “Hey, dad?”

The blond feels the class’s eyes on him and gets scared that he’d accidentally exposed himself which he did but that’s not why his friends are staring. They just find the slip up funny, they don’t know Aizawa is really his stepdad.

“DID YOU JUST CALL HIM DAD? WHAT AN IDIOT.” Bakugo snorts loudly.

Denki’s face reddens and he covers it up in embarrassment.

“Looks like someone was takin’ a snooze.” Sero says with a chuckle.

“Oh come on guys, be nice. I’m sure we’ve all slipped up and called our teacher dad/mom before!” Uraraka says trying to calm down the laughter.

“Is it strange that I have never called a teacher mother or father before?” Todoroki asks suddenly feeling like an outcast. Midoriya tries to explain to him that he is in fact normal and not an outcast.

“Settle down. It was an honest mistake and I don’t blame him. I’m technically his father.” That gains the class’s attention.

Denki squeaks out a noise of embarrassment.

Aizawa immediately understands the situation his eyes widening a little in both shock and amusement, “you haven’t told them yet?”

Denki uncovers his face, “I was going to eventually…!”

“Tell us what?!” Kirishima asks excitedly.

“I am Denki’s stepfather. His mother and I are married.” It’s silent for a second but of course Mineta breaks the silence.

“Wait does that like mean you get good grades, cuz they bang each other?”

“THEY’RE MARRIED. M A R R I E D. NOT CASUAL!!!” Denki explains his face as red as a tomato.

“That still stands, your mom is married to your teacher, you can benefit from that!! Aizawa sensei, since we’re Denki’s friends can we get good grades too?!” Mina asks excitedly.

“That’s enough, nobody’s getting any special treatment. If anything Denki has to work 10x harder, because I’m around to watch him do his homework.” Half the class responds with “aw” or “aw man.”

“And mineta,” he stiffens at his name being called.

“I will not hesitate to send you out for inappropriate comments, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Pay up I was right!” Jiro of all people says.

“HUH?” Denki asks in shock.

“Well, we were betting on sensei’s relationship status. “Is he in a relationship or not?” was the question we’ve all been asking. Everyone was saying no, but I noticed that necklace he wears. It has a ring on it.” Jiro explains.

Sero and Bakugo both groan taking money out of their pockets. Uraraka holds out her hand too, they also owe her for being right.

Aizawa had always kept his necklace with his wedding ring tucked into his shirt so he had no idea how Jiro caught that.

“Oh crap that means I owe money too!! I made a bet saying he was married to present mic!” Mina sighs digging in her bag for her clutch purse.

“I prefer my wife over Mic any day.” Aizawa confirms. (In another life he would so marry him.)

“You guys don’t think it’s weird? That like- he’s my stepdad?”

“Uh, not really. I mean the only thing that matters is that you and your mom are happy.”

Denki realizes then and there he had no reason to be scared, his friends didn’t seem to mind all that much that Aizawa was his stepdad.

But from time to time when he hung out with them one would ask, “you think you can get on Aizawa sensei’s good side so _________”

This was so silly and fun to write. I had a sudden burst of inspiration 🫶🏾

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[wordbunch]

their love language [the rings of power]

a/n: i had this little idea that I wanted to share w you all 🥰💛 i included the characters that i like best, so sorry if your fav isnt there. also I am a halbrand girlie so I wrote for that "version" of him. be so kind to comment/reblog your thoughts! ♡

Elrond ♡ quality time and physical touch and words of affirmation everything

Is he not just perfect? His kind heart cannot choose just one way to shower you with love, so it varies by the day. Elrond’s words are always carefully chosen to lift you up or comfort you, and the feeling of his lips or skin on yours is like a dream after a long day. Initially he was a bit more closed off, but you created a safe space together for both of you to be vulnerable and loving. Sadly, he can be quite occupied with various duties, so he cherishes any second he gets to spend in your presence. You have reached the point where you can communicate almost only through eye contact in public; his eyes are so shiny and expressive, and even the way he gazes at you tells you everything you need to know.

Galadriel ♡ acts of service and physical touch

There is nothing in this, or any other, world that she wouldn’t do for you! The downside of that is she can feel quite guilty if she feels as though she failed at something, but that is alright - you are there, always, to break the fall! She also very much receives love in this way so make sure you do lovely things for her as often as possible - our girl needs some soft wholesome love. Physical touch is something that keeps her grounded and reassures her you are really there and with her, it is not just an illusion or a dream. In private, Galadriel will cling to you like you’d just saved her from drowning. Reassurance is something she needs more than she will let on. 

Halbrand ♡ words of manipulation affirmation and physical touch 

He has a strange way of somehow knowing exactly what to say, almost at all times; the way he sweet talks you is unmatched, and he is no stranger to strings of compliments. Occasional banter is involved as well, of course, as he very much enjoys verbally “sparring” with you - it gets him going and gives a spark to his eyes. This leads to more physical expressions of desire, and you are basically the only person he enjoys being more tactile with. The way he shifts between being rough and passionate, and then gentle and adoring, keeps you on your toes constantly. However, two can play that game - has he at last met a worthy match?

Celebrimbor ♡ quality time and gift giving

This is one very busy elven lord and smith, but he will still try his best to never neglect you and your needs. Even if he is working, he loves to have you around, if you are free; and you enjoy watching him doing his thing. He calls you “his greatest inspiration” and swears you bring out the best of him, both professionally and personally. Although, he might occasionally get distracted when he feels your keen eyes on him. Naturally, since you inspire him to create, he loves to gift you items made personally for you, with utmost precision, skill and love. He also claims that no piece of jewelry, decor or weapon could ever match your beauty, but that is another challenge that motivates him even more. Sometimes, though, you have to drag him away from his work and just make him take it easy.

Isildur ♡ physical touch and being silly

This chaotic boy needs to have a hand(s) on you at all times, or the other way round. If you move away from him, there is a high chance he will look at you like a lost puppy. He might not yet be the greatest when it comes to verbalizing what you mean to him, but that’s not to say he can’t express it in a variety of ways - pulling you close in a crowded space, hugging you as if you might evaporate if he doesn’t hold onto you, kissing you breathless every chance he gets. However, playful banter with you makes him so happy as well, and it is his way of showing not only that you understand each other, but also that you can be perfectly comfortable in each other’s presence and laugh until tears stream down your face. Oftentimes those unguarded moments of silliness can become deep conversations which allow you to get to know each other even more intimately.  

Arondir ♡ acts of service and words of affirmation

I mean, have you seen what this elf does for people he deeply cares for? Expect even more than that when he is in love with you! No task is too daunting when his beloved needs something, and you don’t even need to ask - he is superb at anticipating your needs. Sometimes you need to all but force him gently to relax and prioritize himself a bit more. Arondir is just a romantic soul like that. Also, in standard elvish fashion, he knows many poems and songs, and he is no stranger to coming up with his own just to express how he feels about you and how he sees you as the most precious, wonderful person. Initially he was a bit shy about that particularly, but experiencing your joy and enthusiasm, and the way you simply melt at his words, he knew he had to make it a regular occurrence to express his adoration. Please treasure him, he deserves the world.

🍁🍁🍁🍁

Tagging some trop besties @queenmeriadoc @lady-of-imladris @starladyy @fenharel-enaste @thesolarangel

@haladriel @nanawaffles @xwakemeupwhenseptemberendsx @elswing @coraleethroughthelookingglass

[hyukakisses]

-emo beomgyu as your jealous bestfriend to boyfriend!

parings: beomgyu x fem reader

plot: heavily inspired by eli goldsworthy’s manic episode in degrassi, (and very old post i had up on my old account)

warnings: cursing, mentally ill/lovesick oreo gyu, sweet reader who’s a pushover, smut, jealous gyu, bestfriend to lover troupe, beomgyu is a bit toxic, beomgyu corrupts reader, reader is also mentally ill with a low self esteem if you squint, sub reader & dom gyu

“so how do i look?” you’d spin in your outfit you had planned out for the night, making beomgyu’s head shot up from the manga he was reading titled nana

beomgyu’s breath hitches at the back of his throat. “you look pretty really pretty” his big brown eyes trail up and down your frame. “why are you wearing black though? i mean it looks good don’t get me wrong but it’s just so not you”

you’d roll your eyes playfully at his comment, internally squealing at how beomgyu knew you so well. “i know this is going to sound so dumb but the guy i’m going on a date with only really likes goth girls”

beomgyu’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach at your admission, you’re going out on a date? with a guy? a guy who wasn’t him?

“a date with a guy who doesn’t even like who you are? seriously y/n?” beomgyu did knew you had low self esteem but he didn’t know it was this low—

you’d frown at the blunt response, “i know i know i sound so pathetic but if i don’t mirror the people i like then how can i ever get them to like me?”

the scowl on beomgyu’s face falls, his eyes softening with pity at your words. how could you not see that he was in love with you? the emo boy would literally die for you — no scratch that beomgyu would kill bare hand slaughter anyone who even thought about you in a negative light yet you’re seriously convinced you couldn’t pull anyone with your personality alone?

beomgyu was about to speak up until your phone rings, a message from the mystery man that was outside your house waiting to escort you to a date and this made the manic emo boy’s blood boil

how dare he takes you away from him? how was that fair?

beomgyu groans loudly after waving you goodbye, waiting patiently on your soft fluffy bed resisting the urge to spam your phone with hundreds of messages and phone calls. hating how you chose some stranger over him

was he not good enough? did the black attire scare you off?

the feeling of impulsiveness rushes through beomgyu’s already wrecked headspace, grabbing his cellphone in a hurry. not being able to stop himself from double— no triple texting you in a row.

miss you >:( 8:10 pm

are you having that much fun without me? it’s been two minutes and you haven’t respond telling me how much you miss me too 8:12 pm

i really miss you 8:13 pm

beomgyu let’s out a sigh in frustration, contemplating on the back and forth idea of taking out his anger on your sanrio plushies but he breathes in excitement at the sound of his phone going off.

noooo im not having that much fun without you! i miss you too! 8:13 pm

>:( i hate when you leave me all alone you know 8:13 pm

im sorry ): i’ll make it up to you kay? stay up for me! mwah :3 8:14 pm

MWAH ^_^ <3!! 8:14 pm

WOAH WE KISSED! <3 >:D 8:14 pm

a little bit over a month passes since your night out, and you were currently sobbing on beomgyu’s shoulder. “i-i don’t know what happened i thought everything was going so well but he completely ghosted me when i bought up not wanting anything casual!”

“what’s wrong with me beomgyu? why doesn’t anyone seem to like me after the honeymoon phase? am i that terrible?” you went on a ramble squeezing onto your bestfriend for dear life.

beomgyu couldn’t ignore the slight pang of guilt in his chest as he held you in his arms, knowing how much it would kill you if you found out the reason why you can’t keep a relationship to save your life was because of him. beomgyu’s overbearing clinginess being a huge turn off to any guy you were talking to.

and since you were super trusting of your friend you never really saw how beomgyu was responsible for your bad luck in dating. this cycle resulting in your low self esteem eventually, often leaving yourself to do a lot of self blaming. wondering, going back and forth with your yourself on why things with literally anyone who showed you any romantic interest always went to shit

am i not pretty enough? am i that boring?

“hey hey so what if the guy doesn’t want to take things to the next level with you? the guys a total loser anyway did you see how beat his car was? you’re telling me you want to settle for someone who’s broke?” beomgyu chuckles trying to use humor to lighten up your pitiful mood

you’d sniffle, “b-but did you see the way he looked at me? it felt nice to be liked and not lusted for” and this made beomgyu chuckle to himself, lazily stroking your hair in an attempt to console you.

if only you knew how much beomgyu liked you— no loved you

“and i’m sure there’s ton of guys out there who will like you instead of lusting over you baby” beomgyu grins looking down at your face was buried in his scrawny chest

“r-really?” your head shoots up from the emo boy’s warm embrace, your eyes glimmering hopeful “you really think so gyu? you think anyone could love me?” you always craved beomgyu’s validation and reassurance

another thing you longed for was beomgyu liking you back, but he’s beomgyu and you’re well you’re you—

beomgyu laughs at your cute question, shaking his head causing his shaggy hair to bounce off his head. “are you kidding? of course i think anyone could love you and if they don’t then they’re a total dumbass”

what beomgyu really wanted to say was how he loved you, but the idea of someone as sweet as you dating a total mess of a man like him made the oreo haired boy feel sorry for you

you’d let out a wince, at the feeling of your bestfriend above you stretching out your pink gummy insides. clinging onto the males shoulder blades for dear life. “beomgyu c-can you be more gentle?”

beomgyu softens his blissed out gaze on you, basking in at how tiny you look compared to him and how pretty you looked laid on your back. you reminded the man of a princess.

beomgyu whimpers a nod at your words, his pace slowing down to a gentle rhythm. leaning down to close the gap between you both pulling your soft lips into a sweet kiss savoring the way you tasted like strawberry lip balm.

“does that feel better princess? im not hurting you too much now right?” beomgyu bangs flopped down his eyes making you giggle at the action

“n-no it’s not hurting anymore i feel really good..” you moan sweetly, loving at how beomgyu was checking up on you. “thank you for making sure my first time was with someone who loves me even if it was just in a friend way” you’d smile up at the emo boy bringing him down to your face for a hug

beomgyu mentally face palms, stuffing his face in the crook of your neck. the oreo haired boy drowning into your strawberry pound cake scent, wanting to scream at you in frustration. what kind of virgin takes another virgin’s virginity just because they loved them as a friend? are you really that fucking dumb?

a few weeks by and you had another date with another mystery man, and beomgyu was not happy.

after all the comforting words he told you how could you not see that he was in love with you? how could you possibly throw yourself at any guy who paid you attention?

beomgyu was tired of being nice and patient with you, and without thinking he immediately gets in his car to blow off some steam. imagining the hands belonging to your date dragging its way to your figure, cringing at the idea of you underneath another man cumming around his cock and such

beomgyu was so lost in the idea of you abandoning him for this new guy he didn’t realize he was driving straight into a tree, his eyes widening before the world around him went dark

“you came” beomgyu weakly smiles waking up as he senses you grabbing onto his hand

you’d sniffle back a few tears, seeing your bestfriend in such horrible condition and this made you feel very guilty. maybe if you were at home with beomgyu he wouldn’t have felt so bored at the house and he wouldn’t have gotten into his car resulting in his accident

“of course i came, i came as soon as i heard” fat tears fall down your face in relief when you examine beomgyu’s cuts face and saw that his cute weren’t severe. but the mere thought of beomgyu leaving you was too much

“im so sorry i should have never went out tonight— i should have just stayed indoors with you playing that stupid video game you like what what was it?” you cried trying to remember

“dead by daylight” beomgyu laughs at your crying state

“yes that! i’ve been so self absorbed i didn’t stop and realize that you need to come first im really sorry beomgyu” you’d rabble going into a fit of sobs, blaming yourself over and over again for this happening

“it’s okay seriously i just have a few cuts that’s all” beomgyu assures you, showing off the bandages around his body

“i know but i still feel so guilty..”

“don’t be”

you’d wipe your tears away with a dry laugh, “i don’t even know why i continue to go onto these dates when it’s you i want to be with” you’d admit blushing profoundly

“you what?”

“im sorry terrible timing i know but i almost lost you tonight so i might as well come clean” you’d laugh more genuine this time

“i like you too”

“you what?”

“you heard me, just shut up and help me home will you?”

a/n: this made me miss my ex.. enjoy enjoy

[0oolookitsme]

Piece of His Heart

Hii everyone, I'm back from my long hiatus!! Hope you missed me because boy did I miss YOU! <3 This one is a little emotional, a little sweet, and VERY Harry focused. Also, I was inspired to write this piece while listening to 'London's Song' by Matt Hartke, and trust me, it's a lovely song. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Verse - Artist!Harry x Photographer!Y/n

Word Count - 1.0k

Warnings - Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, financial stress.

Harry and Y/n were students, and now, parents to a newborn babygirl as well. With all of the newfound emotions rushing through them, one thing he knew was that they were going to build this new little family slowly, and lovingly.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, at the overused fan moving slowly and creakily, with one of his arms under his head while the other one remained draped over his little baby's back. 

She was curled up on top of him, breathing softly, her little hands fisting his shirt. 

Daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between the two curtains, and Harry still couldn't believe that the little one sleeping away on his chest was finally here, after a worthwhile wait of a full nine months.

He still remembers the nickname he'd given her while she was still inside her mum's belly – 'Pumpkin' he had called her, and her little frame couldn't have agreed more with him. 

Full and round cheeks hung a little low on her face, her small mouth in a pout and eyes as circular as pearls, nothing if not the true meaning of grace.

Which is why he'd settled with the name 'Opal', grinning widely while Y/n had nodded furiously with tears in her eyes, saying how it was the perfect name ever.

His mornings suddenly became impossibly sweeter, something he hadn't expected since he had moved back in this childhood home with Y/n.

A few days ago, when he had laid his eyes on the bundle of sunshine for the very first time ever, a huge piece of his heart, if not his entire heart, had been taken right then and there. 

Sighing, Harry got up very carefully, wary of waking up the newborn and then, when he successfully hadn't, laid her on the two person size sofa – all that he could fit in the name of a seat inside his small art studio. 

He had just turned to get back to his awaiting Canvas, when Opal began mumbling. She was talking in her sleep, he realised with a smile growing on his face, making his dimples show up. 

Another piece of his heart was taken then. 

He wondered, each time that she slept, about just what she was dreaming up. On nights, he worried if she wasn't warm enough, wanted her to know that there was a blanket of stars above her – but he knew he could wait until she began talking to do that. 

Even though he couldn't afford the best, he was going to make this work. He was going to be the best father out there, give Opal all of his love, all with Y/n by his side.

Putting back down the paintbrush he had picked up because he couldn't stop thinking of her, Harry walked back over with his stool to sit and watch her. He crossed over the chair, his front against the chair's backrest as he rested his face on his arms, gazing down with a soft smile on his mouth. 

"I can't wait for you to grow up so that we can talk, you know? So, hopefully, you can tell me if this is where you'll always wanna be," he spoke, brushing away the unruly mop curls on her head. 

"And we can go to a place where you look at the light and it splinters," he sighed, moving to cover her up with a blanket. "Where there's plenty of gas in our car to last us the cold, cold winter," tears glazed over his sight, sniffling as he looked at her small figure lull to side as she slept – he almost let slip a chuckle. 

Right then, she took whatever pieces were left of his heart. 

Winter this year wasn't easy, but that wasn't to say that it wasn't the best one aside from the ones he had spent with Y/n. So much financial stress had come with the unplanned pregnancy, and now a baby. But he knew that the both of them could pull through the loans and make it out as a happy and healthy family, if they stuck together. 

Y/n’s dad, a single father, was a little bit bitter about the whole situation but had begrudgingly stepped forward to help out the two with handling the house, seeing as the both of them had to attend college as well as take care of the baby. He dropped off the groceries last weekend, along with the last minute new-born-baby stuff that Y/n had told him they needed. 

Even Anne stepped forward, letting the two of them borrow a room in her house for as long as they needed – likely until they could get back up on their own feet financially.

Currently, as Harry sat feeling overwhelmed with all of the love and other emotions rushing through him, he could hear Anne talking to Y/n down the hall. The walls weren’t the thickest and he could tell that Anne was sharing her own stories with Y/n, telling her about how she’d had Harry at a young age, and more. 

He’d heard it before, had even seen the two of them having this chat. So he knew that Anne, very likely, had Y/n’s head in her lap and brushing her hands through her hair, trying to console the woman high on hormones and the insurmountable number of emotions she must be feeling. 

Wiping away at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel, Harry blinked away the tears and pulled up a smile on his face again, trying to be courageous, for Y/n and their daughter. Because he knew that Y/n was doing the same for them. For the little family they were both going to build slowly and lovingly now.

"But I also want you to be this little forever, so that I can cherish you enough, yes?" He asked her, nodding his head when she mumbled something incoherent, something similar to ‘we’ll be fine, dada', Harry wanted to believe. 

And unable to help himself, he picked her up again, holding her flush against his exposed torso because he didn’t have the energy to button up his shirt and the skin to skin contact made breathing a little easier. 

"I'll love you tenderly," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll love you forever, and more, little pumpkin." 

[swe3tte4rs]

Batifamily headcanons feeling jealous about their siblings spending more time with Batmom? Or something like that, however you like to write it 🙊

" Jealousy jealousy " - Batmom!Reader x Batkids

Author's note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR (late)!!! Love this 🫶. And I feel like this request is VERY my AU!!! Dah, who wouldn't compete for the love of their sweet and loving mother!? (The hatred between them began when Bruce had to set schedules for each one so they wouldn't fight for Batmom's attention... joke)

Also I am very sad, because when I was responding to this kind of request and I saved it as a draft, it was deleted 😭!!! CRYING 💔💔!!! On top of that, I loved the request, it was beautiful 😭! It was about Batmom as Bruce's couple and Bruce introduces Batmom to the batkids... And if it was you who sent it 🫵, let me tell you that I loved it and it will take me a while to upload it 💓!! Lov you all

And (I almost forgot to mention this), This AU of the batfamily is a mix of comics, series, headcanons (I LOVE headcanons of batfamily 💗), video games, movies and webtoon! + My main language is not English, so if you find any spelling mistakes, tell me in a comment!

Request opens 💗💗!!! BUT, before you request anything check my rules.

Dick Grayson / Nightwing

Honestly, I don't see him being jealous of his brothers at all! But since I haven't read all of his comics and in this AU he is a mix, I don't have an opinion. 👀

Let us begin.

I feel like Dick is a real mama's boy, he love his mom and he will prove it.

Dick is very used to having all of Batmom's attention to himself.

But he hides his jealousy very well, or so he thinks…

Jealousy began when Dick started having siblings. DON'T DENY ME GIRL 🤝🤝!!!

When he gets jealous that you spend more time with, I don't know, he'll go to sleep with you and Bruce, but leaving Bruce aside and enjoying your caresses in his hair while he listens to his siblings complain from outside the bedroom. (Bruce hate this, but I feel that at the same time he love it just a little bit. Very little.)

Possibly he will also rub things you did with him that you didn't do with your other children in his siblings' faces.

I think he is the only one (along with Jason) who has a complete album with photos of him as a child. So he'll show it off to others by saying that you loved him so much that you made an entire photo album of him.

He would do the same with Jason, telling him that his album has more photos and with more photos of you and Dick.

I feel like he would start a whole fight against one of his brothers just to carry all the shopping bags by himself so you don't do it. (This idea is similar to "Jason Todd is a total mama's boy" because I was inspired by it, so credit to its respective author 💓)

"Mommy, did you just call me Damian? Oh my god... my heart..." #atotaldramaqueenbaby💋💋👊👊

Jason Todd / Red Hood

Another drama queen...

A mama's boy from head to toe. (My poor baby just needed a fucking mother figure 😭💔)

He is first in everything. Do you need help opening a jar? He already opened it for you and said I love you and then left and returned to a mission.

But that's not what we're talking about right now... Nonono, we're talking about jealousy, guys...

I bet he's the most sensitive of all.

He makes sure you don't show favoritism to anyone, unless it's him, if so he lets it go.

Did you spend an extra minute with one of your other children because you didn't see the time? He is already burning in a pit of jealousy.

I feel like he would start fighting with his sibling and then he would apply the law of silence to you. But it doesn't last long because he can't resist your cute nicknames and your "you're my favorite" (you say that to each of your babies)

"Why do you call him "son"? He isn't even your son!" And he gives you a whole long speech when you were just trying to be nice to Roy.

He even gets jealous of Bruce.

He doesn't care if it's one of his sisters or a good friend of his, you can't call them cute nicknames! And even less if they are the ones you use with him!

He has good hearing, he makes sure that you call him by his nicknames and not by one of his siblings' nicknames.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MA?! Why are you washing Tim's hair with the shampoo you use with me!?!?" You broke him...

Tim Drake / Red Robin

( I haven't read almost anything by Tim, so forgive me if something doesn't add up, but I promise you that I already have more or less what his personality is like.)

Tim does not admit his jealousy, he is calmer compared to his brothers.

He might start scheduling his patrols to coincide with Batmom’s free time, ensuring that he gets to spend some time with her.

I feel like he would feel more insecurity than jealousy

But I also think he would try to take Batmom's attention away from his sibling by calling Batmom to help him do something he can easily do alone.

He wouldn't care if you treated his friends like your children. I think he would be happy.

Umh Well… I think there's not much to jealousy about this one...

Damian Wayne / Robin

Yes, I headcanon that Damian is one of the most jealous once he realizes that Batmom can give him the love that Talia didn't give him.

He is the same as Jason, he has the same percentage of jealousy.

The only thing is that he would start making arguments about why Batmom would have to spend the whole week with him and not with her brothers.

Oh, and he doesn't care what Bruce does with Batmom. Although he is disgusted by the slightest affection they have.

At galas, I feel like he would be glued to you, hugging your waist and making sure there is no threat.

If you're not patrolling, he'd be with you watching some movie. (I DON'T KNOW WHY I IMAGINED HIM WATCHING MEAN GIRLS)

"I say mom Is going to go with me first because I'm the best-" And then he was interrupted by his siblings.

There is a relationship of hate and equality between him and Jason…

"Don't you see that my mother has an engagement ring and I'm next to her, son of a- *you interrupt him*" I feel like he would say this to anyone who flirts with you.

He is not understanding why his siblings get to spend more time with her.

Mama's boy

I would continue writing, but I have no more inspiration and ideas, sorry...

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

WHY DID SHE PUT THAT NAME BRO???

Cassandra, being the quiet and observant one, might internalize her feelings of jealousy.

Cass is the last one to get jealous, honestly.

She understands that Batmom loves them all equally and there is no favoritism.

Although sometimes she doubts…

She would feel excluded every time she sees you spend more time with one of her siblings.

But putting that behind, she would know that you love them all equally and would let it go by speaking with you how she feels.

0,1% jealous.

Stephanie Brown / Spoiler

Depends…

I think she would feel jealous if Batmom shows favoritism towards others.

In itself, I don't think Steph is VERY jealous. Just... a little bit.

Duke Thomas / The Signal

I need to read more about this man 😭

He's the newest one in the batfam, but he was still able to connect with Batmom very well.

Duke is not one to be jealous, he just doesn't care what batmom does.

Although he is a similar case to Cass.

He would feel a little "insecure" seeing the ties Batmom has with his siblings.

But it always ends well with Batmom watching a movie with him.

[You can put more headcanons in a comment if you like!! And suggestions are always welcome <3]

[miss-conjayniality]

♡ SUB!ENHYUNGLINE AS SERVICE TOPS ♡

genre: smut (+ fluff)

pairing: sub!enhyungline x femdom!reader

word count: 2930

warnings: mommy kink (heeseung), cuddlefucking (heeseung), face sitting/face riding (heeseung & jay), daddy kink (jay), mistress x servant/slave (jake), reader wears bdsm attire (jake), bootlicking/foot fetishism (jake), mentions of rope play and chastity cages (sunghoon), slight objectification of all four of them if ya squint, overall themes of power dynamics (i made all four of them extreme simps for reader), reader is afab and uses fem gendered terms

A/N: god….this took fucking FOREVERRRR to finish. I had to rewrite jake’s section SEVERAL times cuz it was harder than expected to combine mistress kink with soft subby service tops. It’s ironic because you’d think that such a pairing is a walk in the park to write about. but the reason it was difficult is because mistress is normally depicted as such a ‘hardcore’ kink while service tops mainly operate in the realm of ‘softness’. funny enough…after overcoming the severe writer’s block i had for jake, i now feel very inspired to write an in-depth fic about jake’s portion.

heeseung.

heeseung is such a shy, sweet little thing. so sensitive. he’d do anything for mommy. whenever he isn’t being a mischievous brat, he’s the most soft-spoken sweetheart ever. he’s head over heels for you. he’s super affectionate and always wants to cuddle with you. there isn’t a single moment where he doesn’t want his arms wrapped around you (or your arms around him). heeseung loves the warmth of your embrace and believes it to be the most magical place on earth.

he’s a loving, caring boyfriend who admires all that you do for him. the dictionary definition of a gentleman. he too wants to give back to you tenfold. heeseung is the kind of man who will beg and plea to please you. he’s eager to make you happy and is drawn to the thought of you using him as your pleasure dispenser. he just wants you to feel good :( there’s no feeling in the world he loves more than seeing his stunning mommy flooded with all the orgasms she deserves. pleasing you is what pleases him.

heeseung is the epitome of a soft sub 🥺 he’s a very attentive and receptive lover. he’s yearning to get his hands on you whenever he can. he loves seeing your expressions whenever you’re getting pleasured by him. and if he ever detects any form of discomfort from you, he stops.

he’s the type to get very soft, mushy, and cuddly and would totally be into cuddlefucking. showering his mommy with so much love and appreciation. and even crying when cuddlefucking because he’s just so thankful to have a lover like you.

“thank you, mommy. thank you for taking care of me. for loving and respecting me. for showing me what real love is, and so much more. you deserve the entire universe.”

heeseung seems like he’d be highkey into face-sitting. it gives him the opportunity to inundate you with bliss while also fulfilling some of his softer masochist thoughts. he wants you to fuck his face until he can’t think coherent thoughts anymore. he’d moan so much under you that you feel the sensations of his whines up your pussy.

“mommy can you pleeeeease sit on my face?”

his desperate pleas continue, “I so desperately wanna get a taste of you while you suffocate me with your pretty pussy. please i need it so much. it’s killing me. it’s all I’ve been wanting all day”

it’s hard to resist the pull of your lover’s desires. heeseung is such a good boy to you. after all, who could possibly resist his dreamy doe eyes? you’ve teased him enough with the distance and finally start giving into the relieved tension. as the two of you are about to head to bedtime, heeseung has a different type of “bed” time in mind. one that involves less sleeping, and more pussy eating.

jay.

i will FOREVERRRRRRRR stand by the submissive dilf!jay agenda!!!!!! he’s the epitome of a simp husband who loves his wife deeply. he has his bratty moments occasionally. but 90% of the time, jay is suuuuuuch a good daddy for his little princess. jay lives to serve you. on every level. making sure you always feel safe, protected, and cared for. he loves preparing mouth-watering açaí bowls for you, giving you foot rubs while you sip the delicious mango smoothie he made for you, letting you use his credit card to buy those pretty n’ pink satin VS robes that have been on your wishlist for a while, carry all your luxury shopping bags while you strut like a bad bitch on the way to his car, have spa days with you, do each others’ makeup and play dress up, and of course….follow your every command.

princess gets what princess wants. all jay wants is for his princess to be happy 🥺 he can’t stand seeing you sad or mad. if you wanna be eaten out or have multiple orgasms, jay will happily let you use him as your fucktoy. you may have many toys that he has bought for you before. toys you can use while he’s away. but no “toy” could ever compare to jay himself. he himself is THEE sex toy. his hair. his chiseled face. his toned, honey-glazed, dusky body. his calming voice accompanied by his smooth moans. his delicious intoxicating cock. the way he so greedily eats you out and fingers you. the way he kisses your entire body and worships it like a goddess. your pleasure is his pleasure. that’s the mantra he goes by. you’re the star of the show.

you may seem like a perky n’ chirpy bimbo at first glance (which you are, of course 😚💅🏼). but beware. there’s so much more to you than that. you may be the living personification of pink glitter, but you’re also lethal & deadly. jay may be the physically stronger one of you two, but you’re the psychologically stronger one. therefore, you dominate him just off emotions alone. just a simple “please daddy? 🥺” with a puppy dog pout is enough to have him at your whim because a good daddy is one who submits to his princess. good daddies follows their princess’ orders and spoils her with all their might.

you really inspire him to open up (both his feelings AND his legs). the moment he opened up to you about being a submissive, he initially felt a wave of embarrassment. after all, who could possibly ever expect a cold, chic, manly gentleman like jay to even consider being a sub? you’d be surprised. once he heard you express approval of such a kink on him, it felt like a breath of fresh air. it’s not easy to become vulnerable about such a thing.

jay never believed in conforming to traditional norms of masculinity where the man is an obnoxious chest thumping caricature who thinks that being “dominant” is the only way to be masculine. he believes a truly masculine man is one who has the guts to be vulnerable and make bold, unorthodox decisions that go against the grain of what society expects from men. he’s well aware of his hot daddy dilf essence. but he isn’t your conventional daddy. no - he’s a submissive daddy. a daddy who serves the princess and gives her that ‘princess treatment’ she deserves.

as jay kisses and caresses your entire body, he showers you with praise and observes your expressions closely.

“princess, you have the most gorgeous body to ever exist and I want to take in every bit of it,” he vocalizes as he fingers you. “sometimes, it’s hard for me to believe that i’m in the presence of a lovely lady like you. daddy always wants to be good for you.”

his fingers penetrate deeper and his gaze darkens as he sees the sly smirk forming on your face.

“even when i’m at work, all i can ever think about is how my pretty princess is feeling. you deserve to be spoiled. don’t ever listen to anyone who shames you for being a spoiled brat or gold digging whore. they misunderstand the love we have for each other”

jay takes the fingers out of your pussy and replaces them with his mouth instead. the tent in his pants only grows stiffer and inundates his mind further. your heat possesses him to submission and he gets absolutely lost in your dripping slick.

“a good husband always submits to his wife. and i take great pride in submitting to such a bedazzling pretty princess like you.”

as he attacks your pussy with his sweet, loving kisses, he innocently looks up at you with the cutest pout ever and asks, “p-princess….am I p-….pleasing you right?” 🥺

jake.

jake is the sweetest, most wholesome boyfriend ever. he has the most heartwarming love for physics, dogs, his family, his friends, and of course……YOU - his mistress. he’s a nerdy little simp who caters to your every whim. all the other nerds envy him for having a drop dead gorgeous gf like you.

jake’s unwavering adoration for you shines through in every gesture and word. his chirpy demeanor is the most endearing quality about him and you think he’s the absolute cutest because of that. he possesses the kind of cuteness that makes you want to pinch his cheeks and shower him with kisses. you love him with all your heart and he loves you tenfold.

in vulnerable moments, jake finds solace in your embrace, relishing the safety and security that your presence provides. he trusts you implicitly, surrendering himself completely to your care and guidance. your approval means everything to him, and he achingly seeks to earn it through unwavering devotion and obedience.

can he be a brat? certainly. jake has his moments when he likes being tamed by his ruthless, sexy mistress. but the majority of the time, he’s mistress’ good little boy.

despite his “nerdy” tendencies, jake possesses a mischievous streak that emerges when he wants attention from his mistress. he might playfully tease you or engage in witty banter, reveling in the opportunity to provoke a reaction from you. yet, beneath his playful facade lies a deep-seated need to be controlled by you. he is a slave to your desires.

throughout your relationship, jake’s submissive nature became increasingly intertwined with his geeky identity. he has a borderline scientific obsession with your body and wants to know everything there is to know about it. he’s longing to discover what pleases you and how to best serve the needs of his mistress.

his love for you is like the gravitational pull of a black hole – inescapable and infinitely powerful. every moment with you feels like a scientific discovery, unraveling the mysteries of love and desire. your dominion is his north star. it guides him through the darkness and into a place of boundless subservience.

servitude is jake’s middle name. his respect for you extends beyond mere words and gestures. he delights in showering you with thoughtful gifts, whether it’s a handcrafted origami flower or a meticulously prepared home-cooked meal. each gesture is a testament to his boundless affection and desire to make you feel cherished.

one might assume that a wholesome nerd like him isn’t into anything freakish or wild. however, the opposite actually rings true. after all…he IS a scorpio man….

you see, jake has a HUGE weakness for you in black leather, latex, pvc, etc. because he knows that once you’re in your kinky attire, there’s no going back. i could totally envision jake being into something like bootlicking. picture this - you sitting on edge of the bed with your pretty OTK black leather boots on, and he licks those boots from the top of the knee all the way to the bottom.

or even better…..you going, “jakeyyy I need help putting on these boots 🥺👉🏼👈🏼”. and jake, being the servile prince he is, is more than willing to take the time tie every intricate knot of your boots. it’s a sensual sight for both of you. he’d also love to do the same thing with your other bdsm attire like fishnets, corsets, etc. because he adores “helping” you put them on.

jake is definitely a body worship guy. he wants his mistress to know how beautiful she is and how much he loves her. he wants you to know he’s always there to pamper you when you need it. all soft and kissy. 🥺 to him, just your mere presence is orgasmic. he feels that the moment you’re scantily clad, his brain is scrambled. even when you aren’t touching each other, you dominate him on a deep, emotional, symbolic level. he’s deeply fixated on you. it’s as if you casted a spell or induced deep hypnosis on him. something about you makes him want to obey you and carry out all your wishes. through it all, jake remains your loyal companion and devotee.

as jake finishes tying every lace to your sexy OTK leather boots, he adorably looks up at you, welcomed by your sultry, penetrating gaze.

“embracing my role as the slave to your desires ignites a spark within me that surpasses the excitement of any laboratory experiment,” he declares as he hugs and kisses your boots, “and i am more than eager to undergo every trial and test in your presence.”

jake begins the bootlicking from the bottom up, his sly smirk never leaving his face. the way he so confidently makes eye contact with you while licking away drives you fucking crazy. this man is so freaky and you love it. taking his sweet time with each foot.

as he makes his way up to your knees, he kisses and caresses them both with gentle, tender softness. “with every command you issue, you rewrite the laws of my existence, molding me into the perfect servant for you, my mistress.”

sunghoon.

don’t be fooled by his intimidating, stone cold front. because beneath it all, sunghoon has THEE softest, mushiest heart ever. he rarely falls in love. but whenever he does, he falls HARD. and you were the one who shook his world and lit up his universe. sunghoon is often afraid to display such a raw, vulnerable side of him to others. after all, love is tough and scary. and sunghoon’s personality is widely misunderstood by others. there’s more to the surface than you’d expect.

but something about you makes him want to unveil himself bit by bit - both figuratively and literally. you make sunghoon want to surrender himself to you. he will move the earth and sky for you and is merely putty in your hands. he’s protective of you like a knight & shining armor with his queen. he will treat his lover like a living deity. he views you as a goddess and is the type of man to get down on his knees for you, hug your legs, and bow down to you the same way ancient civilizations revered goddesses. that’s the level of power you possess over him.

in your presence, sunghoon’s tough exterior melts away like ice in the sun. you become the center of his universe, your light guiding his every step. he finds solace in your embrace, comfort in your presence, and strength in your love. with you, he discovers a vulnerability he never knew existed, yet he embraces it willingly, knowing that you hold his heart with the utmost care. your influence over him is undeniable, like a force of nature bending to your will. sunghoon becomes not just a lover, but a devoted servant to your happiness, ready to move mountains and cross oceans to ensure your well-being.

sunghoon is such a simp for you in a way that would leave heejayke shocked. so much to a level where it’d put soft boyfriend heeseung, submissive dilf jay, and geeky simp jake to shame. they’d never expect someone like him to get so lovesick. they’re so used to his icy facade that they’re unaware of the fire beneath. it takes a special type of person to awaken that out of him. no one could ever foresee such an esteemed man of logic and restraint behave so irrationally for you.

goddess - that’s what sunghoon addresses you as. because it’s true! your dual nature of being kind & nurturing, yet fierce and ruthless is reminiscent of how ancient goddesses could bless or hex you in an instant. it’s what he respects about you. you possess the depth and breadth of the divine feminine. whenever he looks at you, he sees you as someone who commands respect.

and i just KNOW he’s one of those subs who repeatedly says “thank you thank you thank you” over and over when inundated by pleasure from his beloved. 😢 sometimes he feels guilty for receiving it all because first and foremost, he gets off on getting you off.

sunghoon is intrigued by the idea of you with black heels, stockings, a short skirt, etc. while those big, buff, beautiful arms are tied behind his back and you pull him in to suck your pussy. he likes when he’s fully naked and you’re (somewhat??) clothed. it puts on a specific power dynamic that he very well gets off of. he’s willing to bare it all for you, both symbolically and literally. sunghoon is totally the type to cry happy tears of gratitude while he messes with your pussy. he loves it when you have your way and you do whatever you want to him.

he gets off on situations where he can’t touch himself but he can touch you. such as his arms tied back as mentioned earlier, OR a chastity cage so that he doesn’t jerk off while he gets you off. you honestly don’t mind if he jerks off while pleasuring you. you find it hot. but he insists on the resistance anyways because he believes that such a buildup leads to a more intense climax for both of you later on.

just imagine….him with a sweet, pouty face and his loving words towards you as he kisses your thighs and dives into your slick with his lips…..

“mmm…m-my beautiful love goddess,” he cries. “thank you. thank you so much. i am all yours. i exist just for your pleasure. i hope you realize how much I love you. you’re my everything.”

tears start dripping down his eyes because of the immense gratitude he feels for you. the act of eating you out gets him into a deep trance. once he starts, he just can’t stop.

“goddess….your existence is a blessing. i worship you because your presence illuminates my world. i surrender completely to you, devoted to fulfilling your every desire.”

[papercorgiworld]

Muffins and Fireworks, because I want your love

A Mattheo Riddle fluff

You are a kind and sweet person and you weird out Mattheo so much by being nice to him that you have him falling for you badly, turning our sour boy soft and sweet.

This was a lovely request but I feel like I screwed it up. I don't know but I feel like I could've done better, but it's really fluffy so I do hope it's to your liking. Also sorry for taking a freaking century to write this! For the cameo piece, Raven (@sunshineangel-reads) is your friend who listens to you talk about muffins and who ends up dating Blaise. They're very kissy. Thanks for sending in! I honestly feel like this story is more about muffins than Mattheo but yeeah, I love both.

My ending was inspired by prompt 4 of @thatdammchickennugget 's Hogmarch Challenge and since it’s still the 25th, I’m just in time.

Warning: fluffy fluffiness and kinda long for my standards

I. Kindness

You weren’t one for loud Gryffindor parties, but your friends had convinced you to come anyway. So here you were, standing outside the three broomsticks in need of some fresh air while looking up at the moon. After a few minutes you sigh and turn to head back to your friends. Just then a drunk figure stumbles through the door, almost bumping into you. You stop and he turns around looking even more drunk than he was walking. “Elloo, pretty thingy.” He flirts playfully pointing his finger in your direction, making you laugh as you had never seen Mattheo Riddle in this state. He takes two steps towards you and one step back, before focussing on you again. “Have we met?” He says leaning forward and stumbling closer to you. You chuckle and nod. “Yes, Mattheo, we’ve been going to the same school for several years.” A bright and toothy smile spreads on his lips and you find his drunk state almost adorable. “Then tell me, why aren’t you my girlfriend?” Mattheo tries to take another step towards you, but stumbles to the side and you reach for his upper arms to hold him steady. “Whoopsie.” Mattheo says, leaning closer to you again. You shake your head and get a little flustered at his flirtiness. “You. You are incredibly drunk.” You chuckle and his eyes just move from your sweet ones to your kissable lips. Your mind is freaking out as you catch on with Mattheo’s intentions, but it only lasts for a second because suddenly Mattheo tears himself loose from your hands, keeping him steady. 

You frown and scrunch your nose as Mattheo throws up a few feet away from. You hear his painful breath and bite your lip as you watch him, pitting him. You think quickly and conjure a soda for him. Slowly you move over to him, resting your hand on his back. “Here, have this.” You whisper as he still rests his hands on his knees, unable to look away from the ground. “No, no more. I think I’ve had enough.” He mutters and you chuckle. “It’s not alcohol, but I’m glad you’ve figured out that you’ve had enough alcohol for today.” You gently stroke his back up and down and his eyes move to the cup and then looks up at you. You take a step back when he takes the cup and he nods, clearly he’s partly sobered up. “Thanks.” He says, sounding confused, and you offer him a sweet smile. “Go sit for a moment.” You suggest and point to a nearby bench. Your hand brushes his biceps as you guide him to sit down and his eyes watch you darkly. He had never felt so uneasy, he just couldn’t wrap his head around your gentle touch and concerned eyes. You sat down next to him watching him with those sweet eyes of yours and he fell silent, drinking from the cup. “Better?” You ask and your soft voice gives him goosebumps. He nods as he stares at the drink in his hand. 

A few seconds pass in silence until a painful grunt leaves Mattheo’s lips. Again your hand rests on his back. “Do I need to walk you to the common room?” You sound genuinely concerned and Mattheo just doesn’t know how to behave around you anymore. “I’m not a girl. I don’t need to be walked anywhere.” You’re surprised by his snappy voice and you pull away, making Mattheo regret what he said, but it was too late now. He gets up and leaves, throwing the cup in a trashcan before shoving his hands in his pockets. You watch him walk away with his head low and you’re utterly confused at the way he left, but it was Mattheo Riddle after all. You knew he could act out, but you also knew that he didn’t always mean it that way. So you shrug and go back to your friends, not knowing that Mattheo would spend the entire evening alone thinking about you. Why were you so nice to me?

II. Sweetness

It was widely known around the school: you were always snacking. However, you also like to share. After a day in Hogsmeade you would bring your friends’ their favourite candy and you would pass a candy bag around before class to give everyone that well needed sugarboost. Mattheo found the gesture sweet, but also unnecessary. He was almost annoyed by your sweetness since he found it made you vulnerable to greedy people who would just take advantage of your generosity. Yet, you had noticed that on occasion he would take one of the really sour candies. Convinced that Mattheo only wanted one specific flavour of sour candy you made sure to get a small bag extra just for him.

Mattheo entered the classroom and immediately noticed the candy bag go around, making him roll his eyes as people that rarely talked to you suddenly pretended to be your friends, thanking you and saying you were amazing. You immediately noticed his mood get darker and you smile pleased that today you came prepared. Mattheo let himself fall next to Theo, but as soon as he sat you appeared in front of his desk. He shot you a curious look. “You lost?” He asked and Theo carefully watched the interaction between you two from the corner of his eyes. “No.” You say somewhat startled by his tone, but still smiling. “I noticed you rarely take any candy, probably because I never take anything you like, so I got you your favourite.” With a bright smile and shiny eyes you reveal the small bag of sour candies that you were holding behind your back.

Theodore can barely hide his smile as Mattheo stares with wide eyes. Due to a lack of reaction from the boy in front of you, your smile falters a little. “Not your favourites?” You whisper a bit embarrassed. Enzo’s hand reaches for the bag as he passes by. “I’ll take them, I love-” Mattheo’s eyes darken. “Paws off, Berkshire.” Your heart skips a beat at the harsh tone coming from Mattheo, but Enzo just laughs, raising his hands in defence. “They're good.” Mattheo nods and he feels himself melt as your sweet smile instantly returns. You hand them over and his eyes lock with yours for a moment. “Thank you.” Mattheo says, his voice a bit horse, revealing how weirded out he is by your kindness. “Sour candy for our sour boy.” Blaise says with a teasing smirk on his lips, while ruffling Mattheo’s hair, before quickly taking a seat next to Enzo far away from a clearly agitated Mattheo. “You don’t have to do this.” Mattheo says, inspecting the bag and you shake your head, but decide to ignore his statement. “Best to open it like this.” You say and your fingers reach for the bag in his hands. “I think I’ll manage.” Mattheo says tilting his head and you move away. “Right, sorry.” You chuckle and just then the professor walks in, so you quickly move to your seat.

Mattheo’s eyes stay on you as you grab your books while exchanging a casual word with your friend. He hated how you made him feel, how much you made him feel. Why couldn’t you just act like other girls flirty and none of this sweet and kind stuff. 

Boy is clearly weirded out by you, but also can't help but stare.

Mattheo didn’t learn anything during the hour that passed as he was only staring at you and thinking about you. What to do with you? What to do with himself and his growing feelings? However at the end of class he did learn one very important thing, considering cupcakes. Noisy students move through the classroom, quickly heading for the door, but you and Raven aren’t in a hurry at all and continue chatting while putting your quill and books away. “No muffins?” Raven exclaims in shock and you nod with a soft chuckle. “Rae, trust me. If they had any I would’ve bought them all. They have the best. Nothing rivals the sweet texture of Honeydukes’ muffins.” Raven frowns and slings her bag over her shoulder. “Out of muffins?” You follow her through the door. “Not a single one. So I have to wait for the weekend to restock.” You explain, voice pained with the lack of muffins in your life. “Will you survive that?” Raven laughs and you shake your head. “No, I’m in agony and it’s monday.” 

Your voice disappears in the hallway and Mattheo is still packing his books, since he was too focused on listening in on your conversation. Suddenly he’s in a hurry scrabbling his notes together and hurrying through the hallways, passing a confused Draco. “Potions’ that way!” The blond slytherin yells as Mattheo speed walks in the other direction. “Do we need to check on him and make sure he doesn’t punch anyone?” Theo just shrugs and heads to class. 

***

Your day had been exhausting and homework had just killed that last bit of will to live. You drop your bag on the floor of your dorm and walk over to your bed, noticing a rather large box and an envelope addressed to you. 

These are for the sweetest girl I know. Please don’t share, it’s okay to keep some things just to yourself. M.

You frown and flip the card, searching for a name. Disappointed that you don’t know who the card is from you move to open the box. An overjoyed yelp has your friends run into your room. “You okay?” You turn around to your worried friends rushing through the door. Your lips are already on the muffin in your hand and you nod, taking a bite. “I’m better than okay! I’m great! Look, muffins!” You take a step to the side and reveal the box with muffins on your bed and your friends laugh. “Who are they from?” You moan as you take another bite. “My lord and saviour.” Is the only answer you can give them.

III. Information is key

Mattheo could hear Raven’s giggling through the door, but as long as it wasn’t moaning there really was no reason to not walk in. Raven yelps and Blaise is quick to throw the sheets over her. “You’re early?” Mattheo smirks at Blaise’s question. “How are those tutoring lessons about magical creatures going? Learned anything new yet now that your tutor is-” “It got a little late so Rae stayed over.” Blaise explains before Mattheo said anything inappropriate. Mattheo nods in understanding. “She just stayed over. So if I pull the sheets you’ll both be wearing clothes, right?” Blaise’s tongue moves in his mouth and the hufflepuff girl in his bed pushes the sheets down just below her chin and gives Mattheo an innocent smile. “Hi.”

“What do you want, Matt?” Blaise sighs. “Chill, I’m not here for you. I’m here for the lady.” Blaise frowns and Raven’s brown eyes go wide. “Me?” Mattheo raises his eyebrows and nods. “Unless there’s another lady under those sheets…” Blaise groans and gives Mattheo a dark glare, urging him to move it. “I just need to know what’s up with that weird girl that you always hang out with.” Mattheo doesn’t mention your name in an attempt to sound uncaring and nonchalant about you, but the truth was he knew a lot about you. Raven’s eyebrows knit together. “Weird girl?” Mattheo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, the weird and always nice one.” Raven purses her lips as she thinks. “All my friends are nice.” She argues, getting up a little and Blaise wraps an arm around her to make sure the sheets stay around her body. “Well the pretty, weird and nice one.” Mattheo explains rather annoyedly, but this time Raven figures it out and sighs. “You mean (y/n).” Mattheo nods.

“What about her?” Raven asks and Mattheo rolls his eyes. “What’s her deal?” Raven frowns, why was Mattheo being so incredibly vague and weird about you. “Why is she always so nice?” Raven tilts her head at his absurd question. “Because she’s a nice person.” Mattheo sighs, not satisfied with the answer. “Yes, but there has to be something wrong with her?” Raven moves to sit up a little more and Blaise moves with her keeping the sheets close around her body, making sure not to reveal a single piece of skin. “Nothing’s wrong with her. She’s a sweet girl and even on bad days she makes the best out of everything. She likes snacking, either candy or any baked goods. She loves fireworks and chocolate milk. That’s it. Normal, sweet, happy (y/n).” Mattheo nods, finally making peace with the answer.

“Okay, fine. I’ll leave you two to it then. You have like an hour before everyone else returns.” Mattheo heads for the door, only stopping for a moment. “Thanks, Rae. And good luck with your new found idiot.” Blaise rolls his eyes and Raven giggles, turning her head towards Blaise. “He called you my idiot.” 

Now that Mattheo is gone, Blaise relaxes and falls back down on the bed. Raven rests on top of him. “What’s up with Riddle?” Blaise kisses her. “It’s Matt, just ignore him.” His hands roam her body and the kiss gets more passionate, until Raven pulls away. “Is he into her?” Blaise rolls his eyes. Damn, you Matt. “Yes, kinda, but he doesn’t know it yet.” Raven opens and immediately closes her mouth, confused by his answer. How does one not know that he likes someone? “Hasn’t (y/n) told you about what happened at the three broomsticks party a few weeks ago?” The hufflepuff shakes her head. “What happened?” Blaise can hear the curiosity in her voice and chuckles. “Matt got piss drunk and said some embarrassing flirty stuff before throwing up almost in front of her.” Raven’s eyes go wide. You had not told her any of this. “And like some princess in shining armour she took care of him and it freaked him out and he was a bit weird, but what surprised him even more was that she didn’t tell anyone about the embarrassing evening. So ever since that incident he’s getting softer and softer for her.” Raven huffs not believing what Blaise’s telling her. “Riddle soft?” She chuckles, but then something dawns on her. “The muffins! It was him wasn’t it? She gave him candy and he was so weird and rude about it and then those muffins showed up.” Blaise chuckles, but turns serious rather quickly. “Just promise me not to say anything to Mattheo about this, he’s struggling but he’ll figure it out.” Raven nods and kisses Blaise.

IV. Up to something

Annoyed in advance, Mattheo walked over to the Weasley twins sitting at the gryffindor table. “I need a favour.” He announced and both guys looked up, amused. “Why would we help you?” They sing in choir. Having anticipated this reaction, Mattheo coolly lays a few galleons on his end of the table, making both guys move their chin up in interest. Fred’s the first one to speak up with a bright smile. “Have I told you how big of a fan I am of Slytherin.” Mattheo raises his eyebrows, but before he can say anything George speaks up. “Your hair looks exquisite today.” Mattheo sighs. These guys, are they for real? “I need a favour not some shit ass compliments.” Fred tilts his head. “What do you want?”

You enter the great hall and spot Mattheo talking to twins. When you walk in their direction you hear them sing “A muffin?”, having immediately caught your interest you suddenly pop up next to mattheo. “Did I hear something about muffins?” You chuckle, but Mattheo just gives you a dirty look. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to eavesdrop? You didn’t hear shit, okay?” You nod, looking at him through your lashes. “I’m sorry.” Your sad apology makes Mattheo grimace. “Don’t let people be so rude to you.” Mattheo snaps and now you’re just utterly confused. “Sorry.” You blur out which makes Mattheo frown and walk away. “Pathetic.” He mutters and you look at the floor. Fred and George shake their heads. “Just ignore him, he’s just extra cranky. Don’t take it personally.” You smile and take a seat opposite of the twins. “What were you talking about anyway?” You ask and they look at each other for a moment. “You see that pile of money?” Fred asks and you nod. “That includes a fee to keep quiet.” George explains and you nod, knowing they won’t talk. 

Mattheo takes a seat next to Theo at the slytherin table, both guys watching him. Blaise is the first to speak. “Did I just really hear you tell her she’s pathetic?” Mattheo’s eyes shoot up to his friend. “What is it with people listening in on my conversations today?” Theodore chuckles and looks at his friend with a smug smile. “Look, you're gonna have to work on that flirting of yours.” Mattheo’s dead eyes move to Theo as he seriously considers if his face is worth the punch. “Let’s not forget that when Raven first complimented Blaise’s shirt, he laughed and said ‘it’s a guy’s shirt, you can’t like me’ and then walked away like she was the crazy one.” Blaise looked at his plate. “Thanks for bringing that up mate.” 

***

You really need to put an extra lock on your door, because when you got to your dorm you were surprised by another box and note on your bed. 

Allow me to take you to the Yule ball? Ps. if you say yes, you get to wear the dress. M.

You stare at the note for several seconds even though you had already read the message. Then you quickly open the drawer of your nightstand so you can compare the note you received with the cupcakes. “It’s the same person?” You whisper as you notice the similar handwriting. You sit down on your bed while a deep blush creeps up on your cheeks. Your heart goes faster and faster and you can’t hide your smile anymore, pressing your lips into a line. Your mind runs wild. Who is this person? After a second another thought creeps up. The box? You were laying right next to it, but had totally forgotten about it as your mind went wondering who the mystery person was. You jump up and study the box and the perfect ribbon around it. Without opening it you knew it would be perfect. Carefully you open it and gently you pull the dress out of the box, immediately holding it in front of you and checking it out in front of the mirror. Mystery person has taste… and has a date. You smile to yourself in the mirror.

V. Fireworks and love

Mystery dates are fun in theory, but in reality it had you stressing. Who is it? Where will we meet? Will he show up? How does this person even know I said yes? Well he did know I liked muffins so they’re spying on me for sure… 

Mattheo watching you enter the great hall, so in love you and so terrified of love.

The night of the Yule ball had been fun. You had danced with your friends and had gotten a million compliments about your dress, but as amazing as your night had been your mind was only concerned with one thing: your mystery date. Anticipation had filled your brain and heart the last few days and now you felt like you were going to explode. Standing alone you scan the room searching for any clue to who it could be, when Raven and Blaise join you. “Do you think he chickened out?” You wonder out loud and Raven wants to speak up but Blaise cuts in. “Maybe you should get a muffin at the buffet.” You frown, that was not even an answer to your question. With your eyes still scanning the people dancing, you turn down his offer. “Not in the mood.” You state dryly and Blaise’s face falls, but you don’t notice and neither does Raven. “She just wants the guy to reveal herself.” Raven says emphasising ‘the guy’ as she looks at Blaise, making you turn your head around in suspicion. Blaise chuckles nervously as he sees you narrow your eyes. “Just get a muffin, it will make you relax.” Raven sighs. “She-” Blaise kisses her to keep her from talking and your eyebrows knit together. “I already had a snack.” You sigh, eyes returning to the dance floor. “I saw there was only one left.” Blaise argues and Raven sighs. “Will you cut it with the muff-” Again Blaise’s lips crash on Raven’s to keep her from talking. When his lips finally move away from hers she huffs. “I feel like you’re limiting my freedom of speech with your kissing.” Blaise raises a sassy eyebrow at Raven. “Are you complaining?” A playful smile tugs on her lips and they close the distance between them, leaning in for yet another kiss. 

You groan and decide to go look for that last muffin anyway. When did they become so cheesy? And where in Merlin’s name is my date? You sigh, inspecting the table filled with all kinds of deliciousness, but nothing catches your eye as you're still occupied, wondering why your mystery date is keeping you waiting. A weak half smile tugs on your lips as you spot that last muffin and almost as a reflex you immediately reach for it. However it jumps away and you tilt your head. Did that muffin just jump? Again your reach for it, telling yourself that you did not just see it move away. Again it jumps up and you look around if anyone else noticed it, but everyone else was preoccupied with their date or friends. You narrow your eyes. I don’t have a date, but I will have this muffin. You move in as fast as you can but it starts to float. Whoever thinks this is funny is in the wrong. I’ll not chase a muffin around. You cross your arms. The muffin moves closer and you think this is your chance, but when you try to snatch it, it distances itself again, further from the table this time. You huff. Fine it’s not like I have anything better to do. 

Determined you follow the muffin until it brings you outside and you lose it in the darkness. “Lumos.” You whisper and move around the empty courtyard. “You shouldn’t chase floating food. Enchanted food isn’t that safe.” You spin around to meet Mattheo smirking at you with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning you. “How do you know I was chasing floating food? It could’ve had little legs?” Mattheo opens his mouth but your bizarre argument has him fall silent for a moment and smile. “I know, because I asked Fred and George to make it float.” Your eyes widen at his calm statement and Mattheo chuckles at your surprise, moving closer to you and you notice the courtyard light up as he moves. Your eyes adore the soft lights and you put your wand away. “I didn’t want other people around, when I asked you for our first dance. I didn’t want anyone to stare and judge. I wanted a moment just between us.” You feel yourself drawn to him, his soft voice and warm eyes making you fall in love with slytherin. 

Feeling safe around this gentle Mattheo you take a step closer to him, fingers entangling with the fabric of your dress to lift it slightly. “Did you buy this?” Mattheo smiled his sweetest smile and nodded ever so slightly, like he was almost embarrassed to admit he did all these things for you. “I needed something to convince you to say yes.” You blush, but bravely take another step towards him. “You already had a yes when you got me those muffins… or even before that.” Even though you whisper the last part he focuses on those words. Does she like me? 

You both look towards the castle as you hear the music change and a small smile tugs on your lips as you recognise it as one of the songs you had to learn by heart during those awkward dancing lessons in the weeks leading up to the Yule ball. Mattheo can’t help melting as he notices your soft smile in the dime light. “May I have this dance?” He says, bowing and offering his hand. You had always liked him. More than liked him, but you never dared or allowed yourself to act on those feelings, because he’s Mattheo Riddle. He gets into pointless fights and hangs out with a different crowd than you, different girls. But here he was, in front of you asking you to dance with him. It takes a second for you to reply, but you nod and instantly feel your whole body heat up as your hand touches his. 

It doesn’t even feel like dancing, it's more like you’re featherlight steps on a cloud as Mattheo guides you perfectly. His touch is gentle and yet firm enough to keep you from worrying that you’ll ruin the dance by missing a step. You drown in his eyes and his lips curl at your dreamyness. He didn’t even know how badly he needed someone to drown his eyes until you were in his arms. “Where’s your mind at?” Mattheo whispers curiously and you look away for a second, but you can’t keep your eyes away from his for long. “I- I was wondering… why me?” Mattheo fails to hold back a soft laugh at your silly question. To him it was obvious that it had to be you. You were simply perfect. He was in love with you. You were on his mind constantly. However, he didn’t dare say that, because that would be weird. With dreamy eyes you watch him and he feels himself get a little flustered as part of him wants to confess, while also wanting to run away and hide from you and his feelings for you. “I- I just-” 

Fireworks. Startled, you look up and Mattheo immediately pulls you against him as a protective reflex. You relax as you watch the wonderful fireworks, but hear Mattheo groan in annoyance, making you turn your head a little. Mattheo shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve never trusted something so important with the Weasley's. It wasn’t supposed to happen yet.” Your eyes move between him and the fireworks. “Raven mentioned you loved fireworks.” Mattheo whispers, partly hoping you wouldn’t hear it. Which makes you again wonder: “Why me?” 

Students come running outside, crowding the courtyard and watching the fireworks, but your eyes stay on Mattheo, enjoying the sound of fireworks, as you wait for his response. “Because I want your love, only yours and I’ll do anything to have it… That’s why I did all these silly things.” Mattheo’s heart races as he confesses something so scary. “You have it, Mattheo Riddle, all my love, you have it.” You whisper as you lean towards him and he happily meets your lips for a soft kiss. Ignoring everyone around you, this was your moment and it was perfect.

Feedback is always welcome!

Word count: 4522

[streetlight11]

Love You For Eternity

Summary: Having a best friend is one of the best things in life. For you, it was him. He was your best friend, your partner in crime, your shoulder to cry on, your happiness, your soulmate, your eternity, your absolute everything...

Theme: childhood friends au, best friends to lovers

Genre: very fluffy

Warnings: mentions of being cheated on

WC: 3.4k

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! I was listening to Chan's recent SKZ RECORD 'Eternity' and the lyrics is so sweet that I got the inspiration to write this. I hope you enjoy this fic and let me know if there's any mistakes or things need to be improved! Enjoy ✨

There’s a popular phrase which most people could relate to and it goes like so; ‘People often come and go in your life, but the right ones will always stay’.

Throughout your whole life, you’ve had many friends. But at the end of the day, not many stayed. You can literally count with your fingers the amount of friends you had left who were the really close ones. And of all the close friends you had left, one of them meant the world to you. Nobody could ever replace him and nobody could ever make you feel the way he does.

You met him back in kindergarten when you were both at the age of 5. You were in the second form class, he was in the first form class. Everyday, you would only see him during play time because that is where both your classes would be brought to the playroom a few doors down from your classroom for an hour. Usually, you never liked to mingle or make new friends outside of your class simply because you’re a timid little girl. However, on that one unfortunate day is when you first interacted with him.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, where your teachers were preparing to bring you to the playroom. You were partnered with your best friend Mikayla for the short walk. When you made it to the playroom, the students from the other class were already there which means your class made it there just a tad later than them. Once you were all given the permission to go inside and play around for an hour, you began to head towards the slide with Mikayla. At one point, you were playing catch with her when you accidentally slipped and fell.

Hitting your chin onto the foam mat with a strong impact which left you crying. Not long after, a teacher came and carefully brought you to the side as she then hugged you to calm you down. She was sitting on the ground with you in her lap, burying your face in her shoulder while you cried. She rubbed your back soothingly as she said comforting words to you. Just then, you felt someone gently pat your head so you lifted your head up. That’s when you locked eyes with a boy with sparkly eyes. He looked concerned but then he smiled at you.

You held eye contact with him for a while as he gently patted your back to comfort you. Your teacher then asked if you had any injuries, she checked your mouth to see if you accidentally chipped a tooth or bit your lip or what not but it seemed like none of that happened. So she told you to sit here and rest if you wanted to, in which you agreed.

She got up to monitor the other kids while you sat there wiping your tears away. The boy from earlier sat down next to you as he flashes you an adorable smile.

“Is it still painful?” He asked.

“A little.” You quietly said and he nodded.

“My name is Chris. What is your name?”

“My name is Y/N.”

“Let’s be friends.” He said so you smiled. And that was the start of your friendship with him.

As the years go by, you went to the same schools which you also ended up being classmates through the entire years of school. Chris had many friends growing up but some of them come and go. On the other hand, you are never going anywhere and he won’t let you. The sad thing was, on the day of your high school graduation, he told you that he was leaving the country to go study in an overseas college which you dreaded so much.

You and Chris were like two peas in a pod.

Wherever one goes, the other will follow.

So to hear that he would be thousands of miles away, made you feel sad and uneasy. He told you that he will keep in touch with you every single day as if he never left but deep down, you knew it felt different.

Nevertheless, you weren’t going to stop him from going just because you want him close to you all the time. Which is why when he was supposed to leave, you sent him off at the airport together with your family and his. You promised him that you will look after his parents, Hannah, Lucas and Berry while he’s gone which he very much appreciates. After he had entered the departure hall and had gone further in, you sighed as his mother came over to give you a warm hug. She comforts you telling you that it was okay. You thanked her genuinely, only for Hannah to speak up.

“Since my older brother’s gone now, does that mean you’re my new older sister to replace him?” She asks cheekily, making you laugh.

“I’d love to.” You said as they all laughed.

Years soon went by and you were happy in college. Although you do still keep in contact with Chris every week, it wasn’t a secret that you miss him harder with every day that passes by.

Despite him being miles and miles away, you still keep him updated about almost everything that’s going on in your life. From school to friends to activities and even to dating and hookups. He would also tell you things that are happening in his life whenever you would facetime or even through texts. It’s interesting to hear how similar yet also different your lives were in both countries.

It’s been 4 years since you last saw him in person and today was the day you would be graduating from college. Your parents came down for your graduation ceremony as guests with the tickets you got for them so that they could enter the hall. The whole ceremony went perfectly as you collected your certificate on stage without embarrassing yourself. After the whole ceremony was over, it was time to leave the hall either for the buffet, for photo taking with your family and friends or to head home.

You met up with your family as they brought you to a corner where it wasn’t too crowded. Some of your friends came down to give you flowers and celebrate your graduation together which was really sweet. You were just taking pictures with your best friend as your younger brother was your photographer when someone tapped your shoulder. You turned around thinking it was a random student or a stranger but you were wrong. As soon as you turn around, your smile drops and you freeze from an immense amount of shock.

Standing in front of you now was Chris.

Who was wearing a white button down shirt, denim jeans and a pair of sneakers. He grins at you whilst holding a bouquet of your favourite blue roses with baby's breath flowers around it.

“Hey.” He chuckles adorably and you seem to have lost your words.

“Is it really you?” You asked in denial, making him laugh.

“Do you wanna check if I’m real?” He laughs again. This time, you bent down to put everything down on the ground before throwing yourself on him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders while you buried your face in his neck. Chris laughs at your reaction but still wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him. You started tearing up and he felt it.

“Oi! Stop crying! You’re gonna ruin your pretty makeup!” Chris teasingly raises his voice at you as he pulls away. Everyone around you laughed at how funny and cute you were. Chris then took the tissue that your mother held for him to take as he wipes your tears away.

After a few more minutes, you finally took pictures with him for memories of your graduation. Once everything was settled, you thanked your friends for coming and they congratulated you once again before leaving. Meanwhile, Chris stayed upon getting an invite from your parents to go grab some dinner with your family which he agreed to. As you all began to walk out of the place, you walked with Chris behind your family. You turned to get a good look at him and he laughed.

“What? You still can’t believe I’m here?” He asks.

“Uh? Duh! You told me you couldn’t come to my graduation because of your own graduation!” You scolded him as you gently punched his arm.

“Well obviously I had to lie? I didn’t wanna ruin my surprise!” He said casually, earning a scoff from you.

“Kudos to you for pulling it off then.” You smiled at him as he ruffled your hair playfully. Dinner was nice and he told your family about his plans now that he’s graduated college. He said that he’ll be moving back here in a month's time and so you got happy.

And that was exactly what he did.

As each year went by, your friendship with Chris kept growing stronger and stronger now that he’s physically back here with you. Every guy you went on a date with, could never reach your expectations simply because of how high your best friend has set the bar for you. From a certain perspective, it might seem ridiculous and overrated. But on some perspective, it was set on a level where you realised that that is how you deserve to be treated. With the past dates and failed relationships you’ve had over the last decade, it made you realise how low and shitty those guys have ever made you feel.

It even got to a point where you were giving up on finding someone who could barely treat you right. Until that one night where you came to Chris’ apartment door crying after your boyfriend of 2 years broke up with you when you found him cheating on you.

He didn’t expect to see you there but he knew you needed him at that moment. So instead of letting you cry and calm down on your own, he brought you to his room and led you to his bed. He laid with you in bed, his blanket covering both your bodies as you cried onto his chest and he comfortingly caressed your head. You took at least 10 minutes to finally stop crying and calm down but he was so patient with you. Ever since then, you stopped going on dates to avoid getting your heart broken again. And all this time, Chris was right there next to you.

It’s been months since your break up and you’ve healed from it, not to mention moved on.

It was a Friday evening and Chris asked if you wanted to hang out at his place. You agreed easily to it considering he was your best friend.

When you arrived at his apartment, he greeted you at the door with just a cosy pair of sweatpants. You’ve seen him shirtless a couple times so it’s pretty normal for you by now. The only problem is, you find it harder and harder to keep your emotions hidden every single time mainly because of how much he’s changed over the years.

Mind you, this was the same Christopher who comforted you when you fell on your chin in preschool. So when he caught you glancing down at his abs briefly, he smirked teasingly whilst saying, “Do you like what you see?”

“Ew! Shut up!” You laughed, shoving his shoulders lightly and he chuckled.

“Oh what? You’re shy now?” He asked teasingly which made you scowl at him.

“Christopher Bahng, I swear-”

“Okay! Okay, I’ll stop.” He says with a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes at him but the smile growing on your face, quickly betrayed you.

You hung out with him that night, quickly losing track of time even though you weren’t really doing anything significant other than watching movies, chatting, gossiping and snacking. It was already a quarter past midnight but you weren’t planning to head home anytime soon. He was sitting next to you, scrolling through the movies on netflix when an idea struck you.

“Hey, are you tired?” You asked.

“Nope. Why?” Chris asks without turning to you.

“Wanna go for a little walk?” You asked as he finally turned to you with an amused smile on his face.

“You wanna go outside? Where do you wanna go though?” He asks.

“I don’t know.”

The room fell silent as you both thought of a place to go. Just then, he suggests something.

“How about we’ll drive around and see where that leads us. Then we’ll stop somewhere nice where we can chill?”

“Sounds good. What time shall we go?”

“Do you wanna go now or a little later?” He looks at you softly, melting you in your seat.

“Later. When there’s lesser people outside.” You said and he laughed. Nevertheless, he agrees and waits with you.

An hour had passed and you were both preparing to leave. Chris had changed into a white shirt, a black oversized bomber jacket, denim jeans and a pair of sneakers. He also recently dyed his hair to a strawberry brunette colour. He lent you one of his oversized jackets which was too big on you but you loved it. Especially since it’s his but of course you couldn’t tell him that. You zipped it up to just below your chest while one side hangs loosely off your shoulder. Once you were both ready, you left his apartment as he chats with you about random topics.

The drive was basically aimless with no particular destination. After about half an hour of driving, you reached a part of the town which was empty and quiet.

All the street shops were closed and there were no cars on the road aside from the few that were parked along the side. There weren't any drunk or sober humans lingering around the street either, which was great. So he parked at one of the lots before you both left the vehicle.

“We have the whole street to ourselves.” You giggled while he smiled at you.

“What should we do?"

“Let’s capture these moments. I wanna be able to look back on it on days when I feel down or empty…” You said as you took your phone out and clicked the camera app.

This was normal to him because you do this every time you hang out with him or go on spontaneous trips like this. You loved to capture random moments like this so you could look back on them for the memories you shared with him.

You turned on the front camera video and clicked the record button before setting it up against one of the shop’s window ledges to work as a phone stand. Once it was standing securely, you turned to see him standing a few feet behind you with his hand tucked in his hoodie pockets. Chris was just staring at you quietly with a fond smile on his face. Since he didn’t seem like he was gonna move anytime soon, you giggled as you leaped forward. He opened his arms just in time to catch you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck while he hugged your waist. He laughed at you, saying you’re funny in which you thanked him. Just then, he suggested a challenge.

You will both go to the end of the street where the traffic light is and you will both have to run towards the phone. You easily agreed to it and he was excited. When you made it to the end of the street and you could sort of see yourself on your phone screen, you turned to him to ask a few more questions.

“Loser has to do what?” You asked.

“The loser has to eat a whole bowl of spicy noodles.”

“Damn, you make me wanna lose although I hate spicy food.” Just then, he tapped your shoulder and quickly took off running.

“Race you there!” He sprints down the pathway, leaving you behind.

“Hey! You cheated!” You screamed in between laughs but soon sprinted down.

You tried to catch up to him as best as you could. Once you managed to run past him, Chris laughed. You were just a few metres away from the finish line when he grabbed your jacket to pull you back. This caused you to stumble back, only to crash into his chest while he back hugs you.

Both your laughters echoed around the empty street, feeling him wrap his arms securely around you.

“Christopher! Let go!” You giggled but he refused to let go of you.

"No. That way no one loses.” You laughed in his arms feeling him bury his face in your neck, smiling against your skin. He then guided you towards his car before he leaned against the door.

You took this chance to turn around and face him. When you did, Chris still had his hands on your waist while you gently slid your hands up his chest to rest your wrists on top of his shoulders. Neither of you talked but the atmosphere seemed warm and cosy between the two of you.

You then caught his eyes glancing down at your lips. This made the butterflies in your stomach erupt. Chris then looks back up into your eyes and his lips curled into a soft smile.

“I’m never letting go.”

“We can’t stay out here all night, Chris.” You giggled, only for him to shake his head. You get confused, tilting your head to the side slightly and he chuckles.

So he explained to you, “I’ve known you ever since the day when we were kids. Nothing in the world could beat our little special bond. Every moment with you is a precious memory and I’m lucky that you’re my best friend… So, I’m never letting you go…” Chris says with so much fondness in his voice that it makes you melt against his arms.

You smiled at him, feeling like your heart was fluttering in your chest.

“Chris…” His name slips past your tongue in a whisper which he heard loud and clear. Your hands were now resting on his stomach while he reached up to hold your face with both his hands gently. He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs, never breaking eye contact with you.

Without any words exchanged, he carefully leans his head forward slowly to see if you would pull away. When he was just an inch away and he realises that you weren’t pulling away, Chris finally closes the gap fully.

He gently kisses on you the lips, feeling his soft lips touch yours.

You wrap your hands around his waist as you feel his lips curl into a smile against yours.

After a few seconds, you pulled back for a breath but kept his face close to yours. His lips hovered over yours as he kissed you again. You giggled into the kiss, earning a smile from him when he pulled away.

“What?” He asks but you gently pat your hands against his chest while he drops his hands to your waist.

“Nothing. You’re just so adorable…” You said, making him blush.

“I love you, Y/N… I love you for eternity.” Chris says, making you hug him.

You felt him wrap his arms around your waist securely, making you feel safe.

“I love you for eternity too, Chris.” You whispered against his shoulder. You then felt him kiss your neck before you pulled away to look at his face. He was smiling softly at you as you took this chance to kiss him again. A couple of seconds later, he whispers over your lips, “Let’s get your phone and head back home.” You nodded and did as he said.

Once you took your phone back, you both went in the car and he drove you back to his place.

The drive back home was filled with a peaceful silence as you tangled your fingers together with his hand in your lap. When you made it back to his apartment, you both took warm showers separately before changing into his comfortable clothes for sleeping. You climbed into bed next to him, only for Chris to pull you in. You laid your head on his chest while one of your legs rested in between his. He hugs you close, making sure you are safe in his arms. Right before you fall asleep, Chris reaches up to tilt your chin up using his fingers and soon kisses your lips softly.

“Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight… I love you…” You whispered tiredly as he smiled down at you before kissing you again.

“I love you more.” His gentle voice says and soon, you both fell asleep.

[bunnliix]

Most to least likely in Skz to casually give you their black card for purchases

Since I'm having a lil trouble with a writing block today, I figured I'd post this up haha

Also, this is totally inspired by the video of Woozi giving Vernon his card to pay for a bubble wand.

Chan

This man would be so casual about it. You wouldn’t even need to ask. He’d notice that you're getting ready to go out, and instead of handing it to you, because he knows you'd try and hand it back, he would slip it into your wallet or purse for you to find later. He wants to take care of you, and this is one way that he can. He'd also act like it's nothing to give you his card, because to him it truly is nothing. Taking care of you is his biggest priority besides Stray Kids.

2. Minho

He would be casual about giving you his card, yes but it doesn't mean that you'd get it easily. He just wouldn't want to make a big deal about handing it to you for you to buy whatever it is that you want. He'd still be a cheeky bastard about it, just quietly and only for you to see. However, he also enjoys that you allow him to care for you in this way, and never truly minds you using it. Plus you use it to buy treats and toys for his cats, which he loves because his SO loves his cats as much as he does

3. Seungmin

Seungmin would also not make a huge deal about it. He would however be similar to Minho, and be cheeky about giving it to you. He would tease you a bit before and as he handed it to you, but never really withheld it because he knew you wouldn't do anything stupid with it and he enjoys seeing what you bring home from your shopping trips. You always give him little shows of what you bought. And if it's not clothing, you'd just be showing it off while telling him what exactly it is. He'd sit there smiling as this was his reward, listening to you chatting away as you showed off what you used his card for.

4. Felix

Felix would be super sweet about it. He wouldn't hesitate to give you his card, but he also wouldn't be silent about it. He'd make sure you knew that you could use it to buy anything. He'd also say something cute to you as he handed it over. He didn't mind what you bought with his money, he wanted you to feel happy, and if buying things you liked did that, then that was perfectly fine. He knows you'd have such a big smile on your face as you showed off all of your purchases, and no matter how much or how little you spent, it's all worth it to see your smile.

5. Hyunjin

Look, he's here because as much of a drama llama as he can be, I think the drama would more so extend to him begging and pleading to go with you. He'd want to be a part of the shopping experience, not just see the results of it like some of the others would be fine with. So either you'd have to give him a good reason why he can't come with, and then he'd give you the card after some whining, or you'd have to agree to him coming with. You'd still have to show off everything after you got home, even if he went with you. He loves seeing you dress up and show off for him.

6. Innie

He's a menace, he's gonna be loud about giving you his card. He will tease you about it, but only around the boys, he'd never do it publicly, or loud enough to attract strangers attention. He'd never be that much of an ass about it, but you'd have to put up with his antics before he'd hand over that black card. You'd learn that he did it out of a teasing love, knowing that he never had any problem about giving it to you, he just liked to be a menace.

7. Han

Okay, he's going to be pretty braggy to people that he has enough money to spend on you, that he has a black card that he'll freely give out to you. He's told you many times that he doesn't care what you use it for, and willingly hands it to you for even the smallest purchases. He brags to the boys way too much about it, but everyone knows it's because he's proud to be able to provide for you. He also is very touchy as he gives you the card, making sure you know he wants a show when you come back home afterwards.

8. Changbin

This man is going to be the loudest and most proud man about the fact that you're using his card. He doesn't care who hears him, he will brag to everyone about it, but mostly the other boys. He's just so proud to have enough money that allows for him to provide for you. He wants to treat his partner right, and that includes letting you spend his money any way you want. He'd definitely want you to show him everything you bought, even if it's something little and not worth showing off. He wants to see what you liked so much that you bought it. He's just a very vocal person about this, he's the type of person to brag about their partner, and this gives him yet another reason to.

[yandere-romanticaa]

・❥・𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬.

what happens when lyney's feelings become too strong to handle? however is he going to deal with his crippling heartache and desire?

yandere! lyney x gn! reader.

This fic was partially inspired by the song "Wanna be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys. Admittedly, he's not the first character I'd associate with this band but I really wanted a snazzy sounding title. I also personally characterize this boy as a lovesick little fool so the song can stay.

If given a better option, most people will naturally chase after that which is more beneficial for them. Be it studies, entertainment or social circles, almost anything in someone's life could easily be replaced in a heartbeat.

That same sentiment could be applied to lovers as well.

What's to say that you won't wake up to your senses one day and leave Lyney for good? He tries to give you everything a person could ever hope for - he spoils you with gifts and his most undivided attention, his words are so sweet that they could rival the sweetest of candies. Unlike the empty candy though, Lyney's words are all true, he means absolutely everything he ever says to you. He can't exactly pinpoint the time when he fell head over heels but that didn't matter. Every time he looked at you it felt as though someone lit fireworks in his stomach, his smooth facade would melt away like ice and he was left completely defenseless. He was weak and at your mercy, he was yours to take and yours to love. Every single piece of Lyney belonged to you, his body, mind and soul, you owned all of him and didn't even know it.

How many nights did the two of you spend under the stars with Lyney by your side, his hot breath fanning your ear as he proclaimed his undying love to you, gloved hands twitching in anticipation to hold and caress your body. He loved to touch you in any way he could, physical affection was something the magician simply needed. If you didn't give him at least his good morning and good afternoon kiss, Lyney would always be in a sour mood, which would force his crew to send someone to fetch you in order to remedy this problem. Yes, Lyney loved you very much, the sweet red apple of his eye.

He just wished you loved him as much as he loved you.

Worry would often plague his heart whenever he'd catch you conversing with anyone that was not him or his siblings. Despite his solid reputation he was still but a humble magician at the end of the day.

Did you wish for something more? Were you not satisfied with him?

There were so many people out there who could give you everything Lyney could not. His ties with the Fatui also do not help his case, even if his motives remained pure. Naturally, he never had the heart to tell you that he belonged to that organization, for he feared that you would leave him right then and there. Lyney would often find himself waking at the dead of night, his mind and body restless due to the dreams he would have. Each and every one was always centered around you and it was almost always the same - he would come clean about everything, his past, his work, ties to the Fatui, everything. Tears would cake his face and he would lower his gaze towards the ground, shame pooling in his eyes. He would turn his back and say he doesn't expect any sort of sympathy from you. With a hunched posture he would take a few steps, the black boots on his feet feeling heavier than iron, the chains around his heart tightening further as the circumstances in his life would force him to leave everything he built with you. Just as the rain would hit the ground and Lyney would feel your arms around his waist, your soft lips pressed against the crook of his neck. You would hold him like that for who knows how long, promising that you would never, ever leave. You loved him, there was nothing that would change that.

Those dreams left him longing for more, his paranoia skyrocketing through the roof and deep into the night. He can't lose you, if Lyney lost you, he...

It doesn't bare thinking about.

As shaky as things were now, they were alright. He was going to make them better, stronger. He was a magician, making impossible things possible were literally in his job description. He would make sure that your love was reserved for him and no one else in this world.

🕊️ TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #47 - Quiet]

"When you and Jungkook have to be quiet because you are at his parents' house."

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: toothrotting fluff, so much domestic loveliness, they're so married y'all, they're so annoying <3, sharing of his small childhood bed, a very mild fight about how little space they have (it's more marital bickering), naked cuddling, Koo gets horny from it, switch!Kook, switch!reader, he is so hot besties, like he such a safe Dom omfg, also a total cutie once he gets subby, good girl kink, good boy kink, having to stay quiet, making out, needy touches, nipple & breast sucking, nipple play, finger sucking, gentle choking (m.receiving), Koo has sensitive nipples, hair pulling, oral (f.receiving), pussy fingering, tiny spit kink, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), he treats her so well after making her cum with his mouth, the smallest strength kink, cowgirl position where he is sitting, loving dirty talk, he cries cause he loves her so much!, he keeps that he loves her as she rides him <3, creampies, some cute lil mess ups during sex <3, sweet aftercare, this is so wholesome and hot and cute, they're in love :(

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: this is inspired by anonie's idea 🧡 i'm so fucking obsessed with this couple and most importantly, with this Kook. you guys have no idea how much FUN i always have when i write for them :8 he is such a cutie and i need my future husband to be like him istfg have fun besties ily 🧡

You and Jungkook normally book a hotel room close by when you visit his parents. It is easier and more comfortable that way. However, this time around, the visit was quite spontaneous and your go-to-hotel was fully booked. 

“No worries, you can stay with us”, his father assured you on the phone before calling over his wife to talk as well.

“Just tell us what you’ll eat for breakfast and I’ll pop right down to the store to get it”, she instantly said and then proceeded to ask if you and Jungkook were eating enough (you assured her that you were).

And so you agreed. Just a little shy about it, you agreed.

Jungkook’s childhood home was small yet homely. It was located at the border of where country life meets suburban life. A grocery store, drugstore and hardware store were close by, as well as the hotel you always stay at. The roads were well taken care of, but were never busy enough to be of annoyance volume-wise. The neighbours were also very nice and welcoming. The house had a good garden surrounding it and a shed his father uses as his man cave where he always works on his cars and bikes. There was only one floor and Jungkook’s bedroom was closest to the bathroom and office. His parents’ bedroom was on the opposite side of the hallway two doors down. 

They welcomed you with loud voices and happy smiles, taking their son into their arms as tightly as they could. 

They weren’t good parents when he was young, but you can see that they are really trying these days. You like that. He might not have had parents in his childhood, but at least in his adulthood he can.

They even sat down with him and apologised, which not many parents ever do. You know that it meant the world to Jungkook even if he always pretended that he didn't need his parents. Deep down, everyone needs their parents. So to know that your Jungkookie could hear the apology he needed and witness their growth really means the world to you. He deserves it, your love.

Like always, his mother drags you inside for food after hugging you as well. She chats and babbles excitedly, holding you and Jungkook by your arms. She is walking with a skip in her steps, looking oh so happy to have you with them. His father follows with the suitcases.

You left Bam with your parents for the weekend because the drive would have been too long for him. He will be happy and well taken care of, so you don’t worry too much. 

Not that this stops his parents from asking for all the updates and pictures. For the majority of dinner, you have to tell them everything about Bam with pictures included of course. It meant a lot to you because Bam feels like your baby to you. 

One thing you really like about his parents (and yours) is how they never pressured you to have children. They asked of course and tried to change your minds a few times, but when they finally realised that you and Jungkook truly don’t want to have children, they accepted it without any sort of retaliation. These days, they treat Bam like their grandson, cooing about your little fur baby as if it was your real son. 

The hours after dinner are spent taking walks in the nearby forest and exchanging life stories and laughter. After the walk, Jungkook’s dad kidnaps him to the shed so they could tinker on bikes together, while his mother asks if you wanted to knit. You agreed and so you sat on the back porch in your rocking chairs as you each knitted something for your husbands. 

The sun has already set when Jungkook and his dad join you as well. 

“What are you making?” Jungkook asks, caressing the crown of your head.

“I don’t know. I tried making a bunny, but it looks like roadkill. It’s supposed to be for you, but it’s ugly. Sorry.”

Jungkook laughs, leaning down to peck your cheek.

“It’s not ugly. It’s unique. Thank you, my love”, he says and looks at his mom, “what are you making, eomma?” 

“Just a scarf for appa. He is always cold in winter.” 

“I am. It’s because winter is cold.” 

She laughs. He grins. 

He looks a little like Jungkook when he grins like that. It kind of makes sense that Jungkook is always trying to make you laugh. He must have learned from his father, because that man constantly tries to crack jokes to get his wife to laugh. It works most of the times. 

“Oh jagi, you are too silly”, she says and stands up, “is it time for the bath already?” 

“It is. Do you want wine?” 

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”

They are conversing as they leave for inside. Apparently his parents share baths most nights. 

Jungkook sits down on his mother’s rocking chair, running his eyes over the view. 

“Did you have a good time with your dad?”

“Yeah. I did.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Did you have a good time with eomma too?” 

Jungkook grew up bilingual. So he told you very early in your relationship and that he is fluent in both languages, just as his parents are. When Jungkook is alone with his parents, he speaks Korean with them. When you are with them as well, they switch into your shared language so you wouldn’t feel left out. Small phrases and words still transcend languages however. You think that it is wonderful. 

“I did have fun yeah. Except for my roadkill bunny.”

Jungkook laughs, “it doesn’t even look that bad. I don’t know what you’re on about.” 

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know, knitting’s hard.” 

“Yeah, I never figured it out. Stuff’s too complicated”, Jungkook says and sighs deeply, sinking deeper into the chair, “yeah, that’s the good life. Crickets, a chilly night, the smell of hay and my beautiful wifey by my side.” 

“You’re so sweet.” 

“Mhm”, he hums, “wanna have a beer?” 

“No thank you. I’m not in the mood for alcohol.”

“Okay, yeah I’m not taking one either then.”

“You can if you want to. I’m not stopping you.”

“No, no I’m good. I only would have taken one if you did. But it’s good, I’ve got everything I need right now”, he says and stretches his legs out.

You and Jungkook stay outside until it is time to say goodnight. His parents are in their bedroom watching telly when you and Jungkook officially go back inside.

Jungkook knocks on their doorframe. 

They look at him and you standing in the door.

“Yes?” 

“We’re gonna go to sleep now. Good night, eomma and appa”, Jungkook says.

“Good night, my son”, his father says.

“Sleep tight, my boy”, his mother says, “and you too, my daughter.”

“Thank you, sleep tight eomma and appa”, you say to which his father tells you to have a good night.

“I’m closing your door already, yeah?” Jungkook says.

“Thank you.”

The door closes with a soft click. Jungkook looks at you and smiles, placing his arm around your waist so he can pull you in for a temple kiss. 

“It means a lot that you call them like this.”

“You’re sweet, my love”, you say and lean into him.

“I’m serious. I don’t have a lot of connection to my parents’ heritage, but it’s the little stuff like calling them eomma and appa or sharing traditional food which means a lot to me. I feel really loved by you when you participate as well.”

You smile, stealing a kiss.

“I love you, you know?” 

“I love you too”, Jungkook says and kisses your cheek, “also, I’m calling dips on the bathroom. Bye”, he says quickly and runs off. 

“Hey, not cool. I wasn’t ready”, you call after him, but he merely snickers and disappears in the bathroom. 

You wait in the living room for him to finish, watching some random show on the telly. It’s a stupid show, but still entertaining. You even find yourself snickering at some parts. 

“Sweetie, the bathroom’s free now”, Jungkook announces himself once he finished his night routine. He is currently walking to the water dispenser on the kitchen counter for a glass of water. 

“Nice. Finally”, you say, turning off the show to hurry to the bathroom as well.

He left the door closed so you would have it toasty. He really loves you, doesn’t he? He hates leaving the door closed because of potential mould, but for you he did. You would marry this man again and again if it was legally possible.

He isn’t in the living room once you finish your night routine and his closed bedroom door lets you know that he is already cozied up there.

After getting yourself a glass of water as well, you go to the bedroom.

You close the door and lock it. Jungkook is looking at you over the brim of his glasses, cocking his brow up in question.

“I feel better like this. At least we have a little bit of privacy this way”, you explain. 

He nods in acknowledgement and looks back into his phone. 

You love how the bedside lamp illuminates his features. He is such a beautiful person. 

“You’re so handsome, my sweetheart”, you tell him, watching in delight as his face lights up.

“Thanks yeah”, he murmurs, wiggling his feet under the blanket. 

Now feeling good, you make your way to his childhood bed. This weekend is going to be very interesting. Because it is a bed once meant to house a small preteen Jungkook, it is sized accordingly. It is going to be very interesting to share it now that you were both grown adults. You can already feel all his sleep flinching and your sleep twitches annoying the shit out of the other. 

You climb over Jungkook. He lifts his arms and watches you with confusion as you scramble over his lap. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I want the wall side”, you say and grunt as you try to wiggle yourself into the small gap.

Jungkook scoots over a little. Groggily if one may add that little fact.

“Yeah sure, so you can kick me out of bed in your sleep”, he complains.

“I’m not gonna kick you out. I’m a plank once I sleep, you know that.” 

“No you’re not. You twitch and kick your feet.”

“Only sometimes.”

“Still. Hey, stop that. You already have enough space. I only have a third left now. That’s unfair.” 

“Lies. We’re equal”, you throw back and flip to your side so you are facing him. Your back is squished against the wall. It feels cold even through your pyjamas. You don’t mind because his room is very hot and his blanket very thick. 

“Tch, whatever”, Jungkook murmurs and looks back into his phone. He looks a little annoyed, but won’t act on it. 

But because you were feeling like a little shit, you want to annoy him more. You poke your finger into his side.

He writhes away, pressing out a quiet “stop that.”

You do it again.

“Stop”, he whines loudly.

One last time.

Jungkook drops the phone in the blanket and looks at you.

“Stop it”, his voice is raised in pitch, his lips pouty, “it hurts, don’t do that.”

“It hurts, really?” you snicker.

“Yeah, it’s uncomfy”, he mumbles, rubbing the spot you poked.

One more time. 

“Stop it”, he grabs your wrist gently, “why are you being so annoying? Stop it.” 

You break into giggles, gazing up at him.

“No, don’t laugh. You’re not funny right now.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry. You looked pokeable.”

“I’m gonna poke you if you do it again”, he murmurs and picks up his phone. 

You touch his waist.

“___”, he whines, sagging his shoulders in defeat.

“I wasn’t tryna to do something. I just wanted to caress you”, you whine as well and rub his side softly, “like this.” 

“Yeah good. Don’t do the other thing again”, he says and relaxes. 

You won’t do it again. Being an annoying little shit is only this fun before it turns into being a bad spouse. You don’t want him to lose trust in you or feel uncomfortable. So you keep rubbing his side as he scrolls on his phone. Soon, you also incorporate his stomach, drawing little circles with your palm and fingertips. 

“What are you looking at?” you ask him. 

Jungkook flips the phone so you could see it.

“Just funny videos. That one’s not funny, but look at that”, he switches to his likes and shows you a video of two cats fighting. There are speech bubbles appearing on screen as if the cats were talking to each other. They contain silly and funny one liners which are exactly Jungkook’s humour.

He is snickering and laughing as he shows you the video, pointing out the funniest parts by going “and now look at this” before following it up with a laugh. 

You have to laugh right with him. Soon you find yourself resting your head on his chest with his arm around you and his fingers scratching your scalp mindlessly as you both look into his phone to watch funny videos. He shows you his likes and together you snicker, laugh at silly stuff or gush over talented people. 

You share quality time like this until you both are starting to get sleepy. 

“I think I’m gonna pass out now”, you tell him, kissing his chest, “sleep tight, baby.”

“I’m gonna pass out too. The drive really fucked with me”, Jungkook says and places his phone and glasses on the bedside table. He turns off the lamp, then rolls to his side so he could spoon you. 

You snuggle back into him, intertwining hands with him. 

“It was really exhausting”, you agree, “this is nice by the way. Really snuggly.”

“Mhm yeah, so snuggly”, Jungkook agrees. 

This is however, when the interesting part starts to happen. The cuddling is so nice and romantic at first. To be so close and cuddle is wonderful, but then your bodies begin heating up to uncomfortable levels and you can’t do your routine of breaking apart for sleep and the cuddling becomes one annoying thing. Bickering begins. You tell him to move back, while he insists that you could scoot closer to the wall. Jungkook is annoyed about his ass feeling the edge of the mattress and you are annoyed about his hot body boiling yours. Your knees are also hurting in the current position and you can’t move them because there is no space. 

“I wanna move. Can you scoot back?” you ask him. 

“I can’t, my love. I told you already. I’m literally hanging off the edge already”, Jungkook answers you with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Let’s just-”, you wiggle until Jungkook has no choice but to scoot back, “do that. That’s better.” 

“No it’s not. I have no space on here”, Jungkook says and scoots closer. His nose is all up in the nape of your neck this way. He is burning you alive. He is so hot, it’s insane. 

“God Kook, you’re literally breathing into my fucking spine. Can you not?” you hiss just a little snappishly.

“Excuse me? I need to breathe. You’re all in my face with your stupid pyjama collar. What should I say?” he throws back and flips it with his fingers 

“Hey, don’t touch it.” 

“Oh my god, I’m not even doing anything”, he says and moves just a little which ends in you accidentally knocking into the wall.

“Kook, stop that.”

“What did I do now?”

“You kicked me into the wall.”

“You wanted the wall side. I’m literally just moving, oh my god, I didn’t kick you.”

“Yeah you did. You went like this.”

“Hey, don’t kick me”, he says and pokes your side.

“Hey! Stop that”, you flip onto your side instantly, facing him this way.

Your breaths intermingle. Your noses brush against the other, ripping both of you back to reality enough that you just kind of freeze. The silence exists while you and Jungkook stare at where the other is hidden in darkness. 

Suddenly you feel his sigh on your face.

“What are we doing? Why are we fighting?” he asks in a soft spoken voice. 

“I don’t know”, you speak softly as well, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. Let’s not fight anymore.”

“Yeah, let’s not fight”, you say and touch his chest, “sorry again.”

“Sorry too.” 

“I think I’m so irritated because it’s so hot, I’m literally dying.”

“Same. Fuck, the blanket’s grilling me and my clothes are the devil”, he says and sits up to undress.

“Are you getting naked?” 

“Yeah, I can’t do clothes. Seriously.”

“Actually, that’s a good idea. I’m stealing it”, you say and sit up to get naked as well. 

You and he throw your clothes onto the floor, getting under the blanket again once naked.

“I’m keeping my ass out tough”, Jungkook says 

“Really? Aren’t you scared that something’s gonna poke your hole?”

“Why would something poke my hole randomly?” he is snickering.

“I don’t know. You never know, sleep paralysis demons maybe.”

“I’m sure the demon is hot, so they can poke my hole if they want to.”

You slap his chest softly. 

“That’s not funny.”

“Why not?” he is snickering.

“Cause I don’t want you fucking demons.”

“Not even if you could watch? Imagine waking up to me getting railed by a sexy, hot demon.”

“You’re not funny”, you murmur and huff out air.

“Are you jealous?” 

“Yes.”

“Aww sweetie, don’t be. It’s just my sleep paralysis demon.”

“God, I regret this stupid joke. Whatever, good night I guess”, you say and turn your back to him.

Jungkook touches your waist instantly, whispering your name.

“What?” 

“Don’t be jealous. You’re the only one I want poking my hole.” 

You snort. He chuckles.

“Yeah good, whatever I guess.”

Jungkook trails soft kisses up your spine until he can kiss your shoulder. His arm is over your waist again.

“You know that you’re the only one, don’t you?” he whispers.

“Yeah, I do. Still, thank you for saying that”, you say. 

Now reassured that you aren’t feeling insecure anymore, Jungkook relaxes into the pillow. His chest is pressed into your back, your butt is snug with his crotch. 

“Can you feel my dick like this?”

“I can yeah.”

“Okay, good to know.”

You chuckle, “you’re a goof.” 

Silence overcomes you and him afterwards. Sharing the small bed doesn’t feel awful anymore. Truly, getting naked took a lot of that heat away. Quite frankly, now you are glad that he is keeping you warm because the room finally feels chilly. 

You could fall asleep like this and you probably would have if Jungkook hadn’t called your attention again.

“___?”

“Mhm?” 

“Are you still awake?” 

“Yeah, I guess. It’s only been a few.”

“Right yeah. Hey uhm”, he dances his hand over your waist and hip. You know exactly what this touch means, “I’m a little horny.”

“I know, your touch says enough.”

He kneads your thigh.

“Yeah well, you’re naked and soft, so yeah.”

“And we’re in the smallest bed ever.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Quiet too?” 

Jungkook doesn’t have an answer instantly and so you flip to your other side so you were facing him. You run your fingers up and down his pecs, drawing circles around his pierced nipples.

He shivers and shudders like crazy, sighing the softest moan.

“Mhm? Are you gonna manage to be quiet?” you stress.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I know you. You’re a whiny baby when my wet, soft pussy fucks your cock just right.”

“___, jesus fuck”, he gets out and squirms, pressing his legs together, “don’t say that, I’m gonna leak on the sheets.”

You chuckle, “I’m just stating the obvious. You’re not gonna be able to be quiet. Sorry Kookie, but because of this I can’t give you what you want.”

You flip to your other side, grinning to yourself when Jungkook grabs your hip desperately. 

“___ baby…please”, he begs in a breathy voice and his thumb drawing swirls on your skin.   

If you were being honest, you had been feeling a little horny yourself before Jungkook confessed. You are very down to mingle, but getting him to beg some more is way too much fun not to do it. He is so delicious when he is desperate. 

“Sorry, the risk is too high.”

Jungkook lets out a dramatic little sob, following it up with a whiney “pleaseee” and his cheek rubbing against your shoulder. He is such a cutie. 

“You can’t sway me. My decision is final”, you coo, grinning to yourself. 

“Please, baby. I’ll be so, so quiet”, he pleads and begins kissing your neck. 

It tingles, sending electricity to your core. You press into him, parting your lips in a silent gasp. 

“Please baby, please I’ll be quiet”, Jungkook begs between kisses, upping the game by cradling your right breast in his strong hand. He kneads and massages it gently, rubbing his thumb over your nipple every chance he gets. 

“Behave, Kook”, you sigh. 

Jungkook purrs quietly, flicking his tongue over the piercings on your ear. He makes sure that it brushes your skin as well so you could feel the tongue he could put to good use. 

“Please? I’ve been such a good boy today.”

A fond smile curls your lips.

“Have you?” 

“Yeah, so good. Such a good boy. I filled up the gas for you when you went to pee, remember?” 

“Mhm, I do remember.”

“And I let you squeeze my butt at the red light.” 

“You did let me, yeah.”

“I was a good boy, please”, he begs and gives your nipple an especially good massage, “please can I have a reward, please?” 

“Fine, fuck you’re too good”, you give up because you can’t deny him when he is hitting you with The Good Boy. He is too powerful and the goodest boy. You couldn’t possibly deny him.

“Thank you, god I’m gonna fuck you so good”, Jungkook says and rolls you to your back as best as the small bed allows. 

His tits are pressing into your arm like this. Fuck, they are so huge. All this working out he is doing really pays off because his tits are gorgeous. 

Jungkook pecks your lips before paying attention to your jawline instead. He runs his tattooed hand all over your torso and legs, reminding your skin why his touch will always be the best. 

You enjoy the attention with closed eyes and your fingers feeling up his tits as best as possible. So squishy and soft when relaxed, but so hard and strong when flexed. Fuck, he could smother you with them and you would thank him. 

“You really want this, don’t you? I’m not forcing you?” he makes sure in a whisper and his gentle fingers caressing your waist.

“Yes Kook, I want this. Just wanted to make you work for it.”

“Wah baby, so mean” he gasps.

You snicker.

“No, don’t laugh. Do you have any idea how awful blue balls are? I was fighting for my life and you were just being a tease? Wah so mean.”

You giggle, hooking your fingers behind his neck.

“I wasn’t being mean.”

“Yeah, you were. God, come here you”, he says and begins nibbling on your jawline, “I’ll eat you up, you tease.” 

You laugh and squeak, scrunching your face in happiness. It tickles, but in a good way. A tingly way. 

Jungkook hums, smiling against your skin. He loves hearing you laugh. 

“Such a tease. My baby’s such a fucking tease”, he purrs, moving his lips to the most sensitive part of your neck while his tattooed, strong hand feels up your waist and hips. 

You sigh, melting in his hands. You are still hot, but it feels nice. He is getting you all heated up and bothered. You love being like this because of him, breathing heavier because it is so exciting. 

“Mhm? You’re a fucking tease. Making me beg and driving me crazy that way. Fuck”, he moans softly, squeezing your thigh. He slides his hand to your inner thigh afterwards, sending electricity through your veins. 

You open your legs further, feeling heat pool where you need him most. 

“I’m gonna eat you up”, he rasps and takes your earlobe between his teeth to tug on it gently.

“Kook, fuck”, you get out breathily, arching your back. 

“And out”, he whispers, “get it? Gonna eat you up and out.”

“That’s not funny”, you whine, but laugh.

“Yeah it is, you’re laughing”, he snickers.

“Cause you’re silly, you goof.”

He smiles and kisses your cheek, pressing himself closer until his semi hard cock rubs against the side of your leg. He humps it slowly, feeling up your inner thighs with more vigor. 

“I need you so bad, babygirl. I need you so fucking bad.” 

“Take me. Please”, you beg in a sigh, feeling excitement leak out of you. You are aching. You need him to act soon or else you are going to be the one not staying quiet. 

Jungkook presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers a needy curse, before finally breaking away from you to disappear under the blanket.

You feel him grab your hips and fix your position, opening your legs willingly. His head is hidden under the blanket, his strong hands hold your hips. His lips kiss down your inner thighs.

“My babygirl, my fucking queen, my everything”, he whispers and finally, fucking finally, you feel his wet, hot tongue against your pussy.

“Kook”, you get out at a normal volume before you remember where you are, “shit, sorry.” 

“Ssh quiet, baby”, he is teasing, smiling against you, “you gotta be quiet.”

“Fuck…” you croak and throw your arm over your eyes, “ah, fuck. God, Kook.”

Jungkook chuckles, burying his mouth back in your pussy again to lap up the sweetness you offer him gladly. He purrs and hums, making it even harder for you to stay quiet. 

But this is his plan. You want to tease him for being loud? You dare to call him a whiny baby? He is going to show you how easily he can make you struggle with your volume. The only whiney baby is going to be you and he is going to fucking make you shake on his tongue. 

“You’ve got the best pussy”, he says and slurps deliciously, “the fucking best. You’re so sweet, so fucking sweet”, he adds between his hungry slurping. He rests two of his fingers against your pussy, wetting them with eager licks as he worships your clit. Once his digits are wet and slickened, he pushes them inside, forcing shakes through your legs. 

“Hmhmn”, you let out, trying so so hard to keep your mouth shut. It’s difficult. His fingers are your ruin.

He has the longest fingers ever. You always forget how long they are until you have them inside you to his knuckles with your body feeling as if it is being consumed by electric flames. 

“Kook”, you croak, arching your back as your fingers close around a bundle of his hair. 

Jungkook purrs against you, flicking his tongue over your clit messily while his long digits fuck your puffy hole. Your walls are throbbing around him, your g-spot is swelling more and more. Jungkook fucks it out of hiding with how good he fingers your pretty pussy. Good. That’s what he wants. He needs you blissed out.

“Like it? You’re shaking”, he lulls against your clit, licking her eagerly afterwards.

“Like it”, you mewl, wiggling on the sheets before deciding to arch your back again.

“Mhhhm baby”, he lets you really feel his purr, taking your clit between his lips to give her a good, long suck. And as he sucks on your bundle of nerves, he drags his slickened tongue over it in languid, long strokes. He is making the slowest love to your clit, while his long fingers fuck your pussy as if anger motivated them. 

The contrast is sending you into a frenzy. Out of all the places he could pick to give you the hottest head ever, he chooses his childhood bed. Where you can’t be loud, where you can’t chant his name and where the biggest torture is how you have to hold back. He is driving you fucking mad. 

You mewl and keen, sounding so obviously pained by how quiet you have to be. 

Jungkook breaks away from your clit with a nasty slurp, reappearing from the blanket as he sits up just a little. He has a plan and he needs to sit for it. He turns his hand palm-way up and begins drilling his digits into you quickly, keeping his fingers curled so they would stroke your sensitive spot every single fucking pump. 

“Koo-” you throw your hand over your mouth, whimpering into it loudly as your legs shake out of control.

Your pussy sounds so wet. The fuck is so rough in the best way. 

“That’s good, isn’t it?” he taunts, staring into the darkness with blown out pupils. He can feel you shake and squirm. He just knows you are covering your own mouth. 

“Mhh mhmh ngmh.” 

“Yeah it’s good. Keep staying quiet, baby”, he teases and spits on your pussy. He slips his other hand to it so he could rub your clit with his spit as sinful lube. Quick and skilled. The shakes course through your entire body, he has you fucking burning up.

“Mhm! Ahmgm!” you scream with a closed mouth, arching off the mattress so aggressively his entire bed croaks in protest. 

You drop in embarrassment, dragging your hand from your mouth.

“Please stop”, you beg squeakily, grasping his wrist to try and stop him. You can’t, destined to tremble uncontrollably as he ruins you with just his fingers.

“Hurts?” 

“No, too hard…stay…quiet pl-please.”

“Who’s the whiny baby now, mhm?” 

Your mind scrambles, your legs shake. Fuck, you’re leaking like a fucking faucet on his fingers. He is so mean. It’s getting you off so well. 

“You’re so mean”, you mewl and throw your hand over your mouth again to muffle your needy moans. 

“The fucking meanest”, Jungkook hisses and lowers his head to your pussy to lick your clit as quickly as his skilled tongue can go. He keeps you spread apart with his fingers so he can reach the best parts. All while he still drills your pussy as if she had a debt to pay. 

You grab his hair and twist. Jungkook growls from the tug, furrowing his brows. 

“Koo-” is all you get out and then you have to press your hand to your mouth. No more arm over your eyes, you need to silence yourself because Jungkook is making you climax as if you never climaxed before and you could fucking scream.

Jungkook moans into your pussy, keeping his fingers deep inside and moving as you cum all over his pretty face. He had a feeling that your hair grab meant he is making you lose control. Now that it’s his sweet reality, he is hellbent on making it the best fucking experience of your life. That most difficult one as well because he knows for a fact that you want to scream his name, but can’t. 

He is so painfully hard because of it. His pretty, perfect wife mewling so painfully tortured just because she can’t scream his name. Jungkook wants to change your life with this orgasm. Holy fuck, he is so into you.

“Stop please”, you soon beg, tugging at his hair in a way that lets him know you’ve had enough. 

Jungkook breaks away from your well fucked pussy, kissing his way up your torso. He makes sure to worship every inch of it, using his hands to give you soothing touches. That he spreads your mess this way, neither of you care about. 

He finds his home between your legs naturally. The leaky tip of his hard cock rubs over your pussy and lower tummy, but isn’t of importance for now. 

Jungkook lingers on your chest a little longer, massaging and kissing your breasts with soft moans at the back of his throat. He sucks and licks your nipples, while between your legs his cock is twitching oh so needily against your tummy.

Jungkook only moves on to worshiping your neck once your nipples are pulsating in sensitivity. 

“My good girl”, he whispers, following it up with kisses on each side of your neck. Even your throat he worships, going especially gentle because he knows it’s a vulnerable spot for you. 

“Koo”, you sigh, following it up with an exhausted huff of air. 

He kisses his way up to your face, adoring every inch of it while his fingers run along your hairline and ears. 

“My good, pretty girl”, he whispers sweetly, “how was that, babygirl?”

“Good”, you lull, melting in his safe hands.

“That’s good to hear”, he kisses your heated cheek.

“You were mean.”

He smiles against you, “I was?”

You nod your head, “I wanted to be quiet but you acted like that.”

Jungkook chuckles and kisses your lips mid-smile. He tugs on your lower lip gently, still smiling like a lovedrunk puppy. 

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“Yeah, you did. You acted like that on purpose.”

“Mhm”, another slow, obsessed kiss followed with a suck on your lower lip, “had a point to prove.” 

“Koo, you’re mean.”

“Mhm yeah”, he agrees and tongue kisses you slowly as his fingers caress your temples. He breaks the kiss with his tongue tracing your lips, “I love your pussy so much. You got me obsessed, babygirl.”

“Mhm Koo…” you mewl and squirm under him happily. 

“Fuck.” 

Jungkook’s whispered curse swirls against your lips. You know its origin without needing to ask. His cock is so hard, rubbing against your stomach and your squirming made him aware of how unfucked he still is. 

“Do you want me to return the favour?” 

His cock twitches, his fingers close a little around your face.

“You wanna suck my cock?” his voice trembled as he asked, his lips nib on yours hungrily afterwards. 

“Suck your cock, lick your balls, eat your ass. You name it.”

He smiles against your lips, letting out a raspy chuckle.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me with your words one day. Fuck”, he bites your lower lip gently, “I’m fucking crazy for you. Can I just stick it in? Please?”

“Yeah, stick it in.” 

“I love you, thank you”, he says and reaches over to turn on the light.

You groan in the sudden brightness, squinting your eyes at him. His face is flushed, his pupils dilated, his dark hair messy. You feel yourself falling for him again and again.

“Is that okay for you? Wanna see my beautiful woman when I fuck her.”

“Aww Kook, you’re so sweet. Course it’s okay. Com’ere you.” 

“Okay wait, gotta go slow. The space is small”, Jungkook says and begins his grande adventure of fixing himself atop of you.

He manages after a few bumps against the wall with his elbows.

“Okay, okay I got it. Got it”, he says and places his hands on the pillow above your head. 

He meets your eyes and grins. You retort it.

“Ready?” 

You nod your head, running your hands down his torso so you could push his cock inside.

“Want you like crazy, babyboy”, you rasp.

“Babyboy?” he is stifling a laugh, tingling like crazy because you are dragging his tip through your wet folds. It feels crazy good. 

“Mh-hm, babyboy. Fits you ‘cause you’re cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“Right. You’re so cool”, you are teasing him, stealing him of his whiney complaint by sinking his cock into you.

“Holy fuck, ___”, he drops his face into the crook of your neck and groans. Thankfully his lips are pressed to your skin because otherwise his noise would have echoed through the entire house. 

You grab his buttocks, moving his hips this way.

“Fuck, baby”, he moans, slamming his hand onto the headboard just to drag it down in desperation. Another loud groan tickles your neck, his fingers close around the crown of your head. His arms tense.

“Quiet baby, you’re being too loud”, you coo. 

“Quiet, yeah, quiet. Ah fuck, gotta be quiet urgh mhhmhm.” 

“That’s it. Gotta be quiet”, you sigh and do the unthinkable crime of sliding your fingers between his buttocks just to rub his hole. 

“Fu-”, Jungkook stops himself, sucking on your neck instead. He whimpers cutely as he does it, gripping the edge of the pillow. 

“See? Told you, someone gonna poke your hole tonight “

“Fuck, shut up just- why are you so calm? A-ah you have me ahm, ah, fucking ah oh god, can’t talk. Oh god”, he stutters and retorts to whimpering softly and panting for air. 

“You’re cute”, you snicker and sigh just for his hearing pleasure, “such a good boy too. Such a good boy” 

“Fuck, baby…”

He begins chasing you, speeding up because you’ve got him desperate. He thrusts into you harshly.

Bang! 

“Ah, ouchies my head.”

You open your eyes.

“What happened?” you gasp, sliding your hands to his hips.

“I banged my head on this stupid headboard”, he sits back on his heels and hits the headboard softly. He pouts, rubbing his aching head. He slipped out like this, but neither of you mind as his aching head is more important right now. 

“Oh god, are you okay?” you laugh, sitting up to cup his head and rub the spot he hit.

“No, I’m not. Hurts”, he mumbles, “stupid shit, ruined the entire flow. I was picking up such a good rhythm too. Stupid.”

“God, come here you”, you say and tilt his head so you could press a kiss to the sore spot, “did that help?” 

“Yeah, thanks”, he says with a little pout still present. 

You trace it with your thumb, gazing at him.

“I’ve got an idea. Switch with me real quick.”

“Okay?” 

“Trust me.” 

“I am. Okay fine, teamwork come on.”

You and he make it work. How it happened is a mystery of the universe, but you managed.

“And now?” he asks, sitting where you once sat.

“Now, lean back and relax”, you say and push at his strong chest until his back collides with the headboard.

You climb his lap and sink down on him. 

“Baby, oh god”, he croaks, looking up at you with droopy eyes. He places his hands on your hips, giving them a needy squeeze.

“There we go. Right where you’re supposed to be.”

You begin moving instantly, bouncing up and down on his cock with a swirl in your hips. Jungkook parts his lips in a silent moan, arching his back. You know that if you were in the privacy of your own home, he would be noisy as fuck right now. But the only thing noisy is your wet pussy getting stuffed with his perfect cock and his childhood bed croaking from the movement. 

“How’s that baby?” you ask him, feeling out of breath because it feels so good to ride him. His groin keeps grinding against your clit, his cock hits all the best spots.

“Fucking heaven…ah, god ah, baby don’t stop”, he sighs, parting his lips to let small moans escape. 

“It’s safer too. Can’t have my man bang his head again”, you say as you ruffle his hair with both hands.

He grins goofily, letting his head sort of droop as you completely turn him into puddy under you. 

You giggle and cradle his head against your chest, closing your eyes. He hugs you back, throbbing deep inside you. 

“You feel so good, oh god”, Jungkook moans into you, grasping you tightly.

“You too, my love…so good…you’ve got the best cock. Fucking love it so much.”

“Holy shit, please don’t stop. It’s so intense, ah god.”

“So good, baby. So good.” 

“I love you so much, oh god. Love you, lo-love you s-so much.”

“I love you too, Kookie.”

“I love you, ah ___, I love…love you.” 

“I love you too, baby. So much.” 

Jungkook is a romantic. It has always been that way and will always stay this way. He is a total, soft and proud romantic. You notice it in day to day life in the little things he does or says. And then, when the sex hits the right spot on his heart, it practically bursts out of him. It isn’t rare that your husband ends up chanting the breathiest, neediest confessions of love when you and he are connecting. Tonight seems to hit the right spot for him. He just can’t stop saying it. It spills out of him with each movement, filling your heart with so much love for him.

You hug him closer, slowing down your bounces until you are only rocking back and forth on him. 

Jungkook whimpers into your chest, lifting his head just so he can nuzzle into your neck. 

“I love you so much”, he breathes out, shuddering uncontrollably. 

“I love you too, baby.” 

“Oh god, this feels so good.” 

“Yeah, feels amazing”, you sigh, playing with his soft hair. 

You understand why it is getting to him. You are so close. Your chests are melted together, you can feel the other’s racing pulse, your skins share one warmth and your noses are filled with the other’s scent. You are so close and connected, feeling even more intertwined through the deep, slow movements of your hips.

Jungkook slides his hands under your buttocks and lifts you just enough that he can sit cross legged and deepen the connection even further. He hits his knee on the wall as he tries to change it, mumbling a low “ouch” into your shoulder.

“Did you just hit your knee?” 

“Yeah, there’s no space. Just ignore it, it’s fine”, he jokes, making you snicker just as he makes you moan because he sinks you back onto his cock.  

“Fuck, Kook.”

“Good?” 

“We’re so close, it’s insane”, you croak and press him closer, rocking your hips back and forth needily. He is grinding against your clit, it feels so good. No words can describe how good he feels. 

“I know. I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, baby.” 

Jungkook cradles you in his strong arms and sobs softly against your neck. 

“I love you…”

“I love you too…”

From what you have learned, Jungkook needs you to say it back every time when he is in that headspace. No matter how often, how many variations, how loud or quiet, you need to say it back otherwise he gets so, so sad. The three most wonderful words are so, so much more important to him when he is in this headspace and they are also, quite frankly, the hottest dirty talk you could give him. No other words, no matter how nasty and dirty, could get his cock as hard and leaky as your confession of love could get him in those moments. 

And oh how hard and leaky he is. How he is throbbing and twitching and filling you up. How his legs are shaking under you. 

You lift your head from his neck to breathe, using the moment to litter his shoulder with kisses. He has such a pretty birthmark on it. You love to kiss it. He is yours, every inch of him, every birthmark and scar, every single inch of him is yours. Yours to love, to cherish, treat well and kiss. You could honestly eat him up. 

Now aware of your changed position, Jungkook lifts his head as well, meeting your eyes. He is making the biggest, sparkliest doe eyes at you, looking so so in love. 

“I love you”, he whispers shakily.

“I love you too”, you whisper back, cradling his cheeks, “mine, you’re all mine.”

“Yours, so yours” he agrees as the galaxies in his big brown eyes practically turn into countless little hearts.

“Mhm, yeah. Mine”, you sigh, swiping your palm down his cheek until you have his throat under it. You close your fingers around his neck without applying pressure. Your other hand still cradles his cheek. 

Jungkook moans. 

“Quiet, baby.”

“Sorry, oh god it’s so hard”, he whispers and parts his lips to gasp repeatedly.

“Mhhm Kook”, you purr, “mine. I love you so much, sweetheart”, you lull and apply just a little pressure. Not enough to make him dizzy, just enough to let him know you’ve got him.

Jungkook bites down on his lower lip, grasping your waist desperately. His cock twitches deep inside you, his thighs tense under you. You are seriously ruining him. You are. 

“Good boy, you’re such a good boy”, you praise, tracing his pierced lip. Not for long because then you already have Jungkook opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. 

You drag your fingers up his soft muscle, feeling tingles deep inside you. This is so hot. 

Jungkook sighs and closes his mouth around your digits, sucking on them with pouty lips and big doe eyes. You can feel how his neck tenses from the movement and how much faster his pulse becomes. 

“You’re so hot, holy fuck”, you croak, lifting yourself off his cock so you could command him to stretch out his legs.

He follows, getting rewarded with your pussy and your eager hips dancing on his needy cock. You are on your knees for it, using the bounce of his mattress to your advantage to ride him as if it is the last time you ever will. He moans around your fingers, furrowing his brows in utter bliss.

“Quiet baby, be quiet”, you gasp out, feeling breathless from pleasure. His throat under your hand, his mouth on your fingers and his cock deep inside while his strong hands knead your waist and hips. Yeah, it can’t get any better than that. You are fucking obsessed. 

Jungkook mewls and keens. You slip your fingers out, resulting in his spit to cover his chin.

“Quiet, come on.”

“It’s, it’s so ah ha-hard. A-ah.”

“Quiet, baby. Just be quiet, it’s easy’, you order, slamming your hips down on him repeatedly. And to make matters worse, you put your slickened, greedy fingers on his left nipple to massage it eagerly. You abandon his neck to lick your other hand and use it to massage his right nipple as well. You twist and pinch, tug and rub, play with his piercings and trace his very tip. You know exactly what drives your husband crazy and you are hellbent on showing him all your tricks. 

“Stop please”, Jungkook begs, arching his back, “stop please stop”, he pleads.

“Hurts?”

He shakes his head, “too hard, please.”

“You can do it, baby. Just be quiet, it’s easy.”

“Ah god, ah, aaah” Jungkook mewls and throws his head back, grasping your waist with such desperation he brings it in just a little. He is kicking the sheets as best as possible, curling his tongue in his agape mouth. 

That’s where you want him. That’s his best look. You take his swollen nipples between your fingers and rub them in sideways motions. 

His abs tense, his huge pecs throb and tighten, his arms bulge as well. You are hitting the right fucking spots and his body reacts in the sexiest of ways. 

“Ahng”, Jungkook silences himself by throwing his hand over his own mouth. He scrunches his face, whimpering behind his hand.

“Holy fuck, this is so hot. That’s it, keep quiet. Good boy. Fuck, I love you.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes back and squeezes them shut. He sobs your name. You can feel it before you see it on his face. This was too much for him. You are making him climax. Deep, deep inside you and with days worth of hot, creamy cum he is shooting into you, bruising your waist in the process and biting down on his own palm just to stop himself from screaming your name. Tears run down his cheeks, he is arching his back even more. Yeah, you’ve really got him good. 

You help him ride it out with a fluttering heart, giving him the best kind of afterglow by cupping his face and pulling it in for kisses all while your hips rock back and forth on his still hard cock. 

Jungkook drops into your hands, feeling so far away and yet so, so close to you. His cock is sensitive, but it doesn’t hurt. It is just warm, wet and safe. He is so safe when he is inside you. Your pussy feels so good. Every ridge, hill, crevice and inch. Only you feel this good. Only you. And only you can make him feel this way. 

“I love you”, Jungkook gets out shakily, dripping tears from the tip of his perfect nose. You tilt his head up and kiss the tears away.

“I love you too, Kookie. How is my hubby love doing? Comfy?”

“Yes comfy”, his voice is just a little higher in pitch, “feels so good.” 

“Yeah, feels amazing. You did such a good job filling me up like this. Making me yours and all. I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too, oh god”, Jungkook opens his eyes, sniffling with shaking shoulders.

“Good?”

He nods his head vigorously, cradling your cheeks.

“I just love you so much”, he squeaks and rolls his hips up slowly, meeting your movements as best as possible.

“Yes love you too”, you sigh, “oh”, your eyes go just a little out of focus, “oh Kook, there.”

“There? Do you like this?” he asks repeating his movements all the way down to flow, speed and angle. 

“Yes, so much. Ah Kookie, you…ah feel…holy fuck, so good. Ah.”

“Quiet, baby”, he whispers, making you chuckle breathlessly.

“Yeah, fuck I get you now. Fuck mhm.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” 

You nod your head, giving his cheeks a squeeze. 

“Shit baby. Kookie, I’m close.”

His pupils dilate even more. His breathing speeds up.

“You are?” 

“You feel so good”, you sigh and whimper softly, fluttering your lashes, “is hard.” 

“Don’t hold back, baby. I’ve got you.” 

“No, is hard to, to keep looking at you. Want to look at you as I…ah…I, I cum.” 

“Baby…” Jungkook gets out and squeezes your cheeks, “fuck. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love…you…too...Kookie ah please.”

“Let go, baby. Let go. I’ve got you, baby.”

“Koo, ah”, you squeak out, falling into him as your high overtakes you. 

You shake and convulse, using his shoulder to muffle your sounds as Jungkook soothes you. He is cradling your head, rubbing your back as he shushes you and whispers the sweetest love to you.

“That’s my girl. I love you cumming on my cock. That’s it. You’re doing so well. I’ve got you, babygirl. You’re such a good girl. Such a good girl, god you’re my good girl.” 

Honestly, you blame him for making this orgasm as hard and intense as it is, because goddamn does it feel good to be talked through this way. Fuck, you’re climaxing just from his words. Honestly. 

Jungkook makes sure to give you the best afterglow as well by squeezing your hips tighter to his body and giving your sensitive clit warm pressure. You love warm pressure after a high. The comedown is so intense but healing. And as you shudder in his arms, he is tracing your spine slowly, enjoying the moments of silence with closed eyes. You have your eyes closed as well, finding solace in his heartbeat against your chest. It is synced with yours, slowing down gradually. 

You are the one to break the silence.

“So uhm, that was intense.”

“Yeah”, he sighs and sighs again, “thank you, I needed this so bad.”

“Me too, baby. Who would have thought that your tiny bed is that good to fuck in.”

Jungkook chuckles, “yeah. The creaking was a little annoying though.”

“I kinda feel like your parents must have heard something.”

“Please don’t say that, I’ll cringe to death.”

You laugh, lifting your head from his shoulder. You press a loving kiss to his lips then wipe his tear-stained cheeks.

“I genuinely tried to be quiet.”

“Me too. You didn’t make it easier. I think I nutted with my nipples, no joke.”

“I can imagine”, you snort and shimmy on his lap, “I’m starting to leak.”

“Sexy.”

“Not sexy. Wet and gooey.”

“Don’t call it that”, he laughs as he helps you slip off his cock. You leak onto his thighs, hissing in distaste.

“God, such a mess. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, let it happen.”

“Don’t wanna let it happen. It’s so messy and wet.”

“Wait, let me”, Jungkook says and reaches for his bedside table. He takes a handful of tissues, “here you go”, he says and hands them to you. 

“Thanks.”

You press them to your pussy, climbing off his lap awkwardly. 

“Please ignore the noises, air sometimes has its own mind”, you mumble.

“It’s okay, let it happen baby. You know how I sometimes sound after anal.”

You and he snicker in comradery. Yep, being married and comfortable is definitely amazing. Not even the most embarrassing sex noises are embarrassing when you’re together. 

“You know, creampies are awesome in the moment, but afterwards? A cramp in the anus”, you say, wiping at your pussy with new tissues.

Jungkook laughs, “at least you’ve got tissues. Remember that one time we fucked in a motel only to realise we didn’t have tissues?”

You are putting on your pyjama just in case you meet his parents outside. If you were alone, you wouldn’t bother.

“And I had to use my hand to catch it? Yes baby, you laughed at me. How could I forget?”

“I only laughed because you were cute as you waddled to the bathroom.” 

“Yeah sure”, you say and lean down to peck his cheek, “brb, gonna go piss real quick.”

“Mhm’kay”, Jungkook says with a goofy smile on his lips. 

He is still grinning goofily when you come back, resting on his side with his eyes to the door. He is still naked, opening the blanket for you. 

“Did you steal the wall side?” you ask him as you get naked again.

“I did.”

“Not cool. I claimed it.” 

“And I reclaimed it.” 

You roll your eyes fondly, climbing under the blanket. Jungkook wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him instantly. He drapes his leg over your hips, smooching your cheek before nuzzling into your neck. 

“You feel cold”, he whispers

“The pee cooled me down.” 

“Mhm, is nice”, he kisses your skin, “sleep tight, my sweetie.”

“You too, my love”, you say and turn off the light.

He wiggles and makes a small sound of contentment. He shifts his head a little.

“Psst, sweetie?” 

“Yes, sweetie?” you giggle because he is a goof.

“How was it for you?”

“Amazing. I loved it.” 

“Me too. Was so good”, he breathes and sighs, growing softer, “I really love you. I do. Yeah, you my baby and boo.”

“That rhymed.”

“Mhm, yeah…” he sighs and exhales deeply. He fell asleep. Of course he did. 

You melt into him and drift off in his arms. Maybe sharing a small bed isn’t as terrible as you first thought it would be. 

[hyunnie04]

puppy love

inspired by that one scene in skip and loafer where mitsumi pets shima's hair;; not my best but its cute jskfdh

kim seungmin x reader

genre: fluff, non-idol au

you have been staring at seungmin the entire day. not because of anything bad, it’s just that there's this one thing that has been bothering you lately. propping your fist against your chin, you let out a burdened sigh.

ever since he had dyed his hair this captivating caramel color at the start of senior year, which was only a few weeks ago, you can’t seem to get your eyes off him. 

the change was refreshing, like seeing him in a completely different light. it had suited him so well, the blondish gold complemented his features like it was supposed to be like that from the start.

whenever you would place your curious gaze on him, the gears in your mind start turning, unable to place your finger on what it reminded you of. it had definitely started to become sort of a routine for you.

you’re also pretty sure seungmin had figured out you have been burning holes at the back of his head during lectures or lunch. he would sometimes look back at you with a quirk of his lip and a questioning gaze, making you shift your focus to somewhere else, cheeks reddening like a child catching glimpses of their crush.

but now you are sure he looked like someone. but who? you’re trying to figure that out yourself.

you don’t know where this sudden fascination with his hair came from, was it because it made him look so handsome? or maybe the way it looked very cute whenever it flopped around when he moved? 

confused feelings for the caramel haired boy aside, you decide to let it go.

you were hanging out with the man himself and a bunch of other friends one afternoon and started scrolling through your phone. they wouldn’t mind, seeing as to how all of them were currently preoccupied with playing a board game.

“hey, you can’t just do that! you have to give me money!”

“i can do whatever i want!”

you subconsciously block the noise coming from your rowdy friends, very much used to the chaotic nature. your thumb landed on a really adorable picture of your sweet little puppy back at home, already missing him. a thought instantly strikes you.    

you look up from your phone. and then to seungmin. and then back to your phone. 

it’s the exact same?!

you’ve finally cracked it. he looked exactly like your family dog. comparing him to an actual dog sounded mean, but you meant this genuinely as a compliment, you absolutely adored your golden retriever puppy- haru, more than your own family. the longer you thought about it, it’s sweet demeanor and honey colored coat resembled kim seungmin right in front of you.

after thinking about this revelation, you kept it to yourself, out of context it could sound mean. the last thing you wanted was to offend someone when you meant it in an endearing way.

so upon walking home one day, hurried footsteps trailed behind yours, prompting you to turn to see who it was. it was seungmin himself, his hair flopping in the wind, resembling the cutest pair of puppy ears.

he finally stopped, panting heavily after chasing you for a good while now. he straightened up, opening his adorable mouth to say something to you.

you couldn’t help yourself, the thought of wanting to feel his soft looking hair.

“haru-” you cover your mouth as soon as the words left it, extremely mortified to have said it out loud.

“haru? who’s that?” seungmin teases your increasingly flustered state. “are you mistaking me for someone else?” it was too late, you have to explain now.

“no...its...my…family’s dog…” you blurted out, embarrassed of saying it in front of him. you had fully expected him to get mad but he doesn’t. instead, seungmin lets out a chuckle, his eyes crinkling in what seems to be delight.

“well, my hair is really soft.” he watches your face morph into confusion as he tucks his hands coyly into his pockets. he wasn’t mad?

 “do you want to touch? you've been staring at it all week.”

seungmin wasn’t known for being touchy with his friends or anyone for that matter so you can imagine the shock on your face when he leans down to your level, silently allowing you to do so.

placing a hesitant touch on his honey hued locks with one hand, you slowly bring your other to ruffle his head, really going at it and much like you would do to haru. a grin graces your features as his strands get messed up, absolutely elated that you now know what his hair feels like.

once you were done, he straightens up and pats his messy hair back in its place as best as he can. seungmin quietly wraps an arm around your shoulder, as if nothing happened.

“got it out of your system?” you nod gleefully.

“good, now i can ask you out for a date.”

[mercuriians]

I feel like a fic about Atsumu, Oikawa, and Bokuto finding their s/o reading fanfic about them would be hilarious

(You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to <3)

Have a lovely day and thank you if you end up doing this request <33333

a fantasy world

content info — gender neutral! reader, fluffy hq!! drabbles with some crack & hurt/comfort (sounds weird but bear w it, all separate). a teeny tiny bit suggestive in atsumu's part cuz he's a little shit.

word count — 1.9k words.

author’s note — holy HELL this is so late 😭 anon i hope ur still here, i made this pretty long so that's my way of apologizing. im also praying that atsumu is in character because this is only the second time ive written him. anyway, tysm for requesting!! hope u all like this <3

MIYA ATSUMU

your eyes are obstinately glued to your phone, wholly transfixed by the words that were typed across the screen. not a single soul knew about your little hobby and quite frankly, it was likely better that they remained oblivious. you wouldn’t know how to react if anyone found out, but really, there was one particular person who absolutely had to stay unaware.

as it turns out, they were also the very subject of the story you’re currently reading—of course, none other than your sweet, beloved boyfriend, atsumu. not that the term ‘sweet’ was an especially fitting term for him. ooh, that was a sick burn.

now, obviously you loved the boy. atsumu was bold, intelligent, thoughtful, hardworking, and affectionate to the point where osamu and the rest of his team often complained about how shameless he was in front of them. his spirit burned bright with fiery ambition, glimmering red and orange and yellow, and he introduced a kind of light into your life that you had never quite experienced before. at first you were a little wary at first, a little blinded by how much he shone, but because you were just as stubborn as he was, you soon grew used to it.

if anything, you came to learn that atsumu was undoubtedly one of the most inspirational people out there. motivating his peers was like second-nature to him, and even if he didn’t consciously put in the effort to inspire them, he still ended up doing so anyway. his love for volleyball was blatant in its authenticity, in its obsession. so when coupled with his charisma, and, yes, his boyishly good looks, atsumu developed a serious kind of gravitational pull. it was no wonder so many people were drawn in—yourself included.

but, inevitably, something had to be sacrificed. your boyfriend’s devotion to the game often meant that you two didn’t get to spend much time together. if atsumu wasn’t practicing at the gym, then he was either thinking about doing it, on his way to doing it, or—this happens only under the direst of circumstances—recovering from doing it. he was, in every sense of the word, a workaholic.

you were fine with it for the most part, mostly because you had a busy schedule to deal with yourself. if you weren’t doing homework or studying for an upcoming exam for the sake of staying on top of your classes, then you were either fulfilling your duties as a student council member, playing your respective sport, or taking care of things at home.

regardless, there were still times when you wished atsumu was with you. it didn’t matter if he was spewing volleyball jargon, or forcing you to pepper with him, or anything like that. you just wanted to spend time with him, to actually see him and his stupid face and his stupid smile that you want to kiss so badly.

maybe that’s why you’re so zeroed in on the fanfiction you’re reading—to try and make up for what you’ve been deprived of for days on end. a very palpable twinge of sadness tugs at your heart. you push the unwanted sentiment to the depths of your mind, trying to focus on reading the story again.

god, what sentence were you even on? and why was the door suddenly opening—

“hey baby, did ya miss me?”

your soul leaves your body.

before you even have time to think, a shrill scream rips from your throat as you scramble to hide your phone underneath the covers. atsumu's jaw drops, completely and utterly befuddled by your behavior. after a moment he raises his hands in mock surrender. "jeez, darlin', it's just me. your boyfriend, remember?" atsumu says, brow raised. there's a mixture of emotions written across his face—slight concern, palpable amusement, even some suspicion. "what are ya hidin' there on your phone, anyway?"

finally, you seem to find your voice. "n-nothing important," you mumble, clearly and very intentionally avoiding the intensity of atsumu's hawk-like gaze. "i didn't even know you'd be visiting today.. thought you would be busy with practice again."

maybe it's because your boyfriend knows you so well by now, but he catches the hint of bitterness in your tone. his face softens, and he takes one, two, three steps toward you until he's taking up the space on your left. "coach called in sick, so mister perfect decided to just cancel practice for today," atsumu shrugs. you're still somewhat upset, but you can't help but smile at the setter's nickname for his captain—kita shinsuke, the closest embodiment of perfection that anyone's ever seen.

"i'm pretty sure i texted ya that i would be dropping by," your boyfriend adds, glancing over at you. cautiously, you pull out your phone again and open up the messages app. lo and behold, he did in fact text you, but you were too busy with your fanfiction to notice.

your face burns with the weight of your embarrassment.

a small chuckle escapes from atsumu's mouth. "wow, i haven't even done anything and you're already blushin' for me," he teases. you hit his chest halfheartedly, muttering about how mean he's being. you fail to notice the calculating glint in his eyes. you also fail to notice his hand wandering.

a second later, atsumu grins smugly, your phone held securely in his grip.

"what the hell, 'sumu?!" you screech, trying to retrieve the object in vain. "how did you even—"

"i'm good with my hands," he winks, and you don't even have time to scold him for the clear innuendo because he's typing in the password to your phone. all you can do is accept your fate as atsumu discovers the story you were reading.

as expected, he laughs. loudly. it's almost like the laugh he lets out whenever he wins a bet against osamu. you turn away, shame and humiliation gnawing at your chest. there's nothing more you want than to be swallowed by the floor beneath you.

however, when atsumu's laughter dies down a few moments later, you feel him wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "baby," he begins, voice still a little breathless from all his cackling, "why are ya reading this when ya got the real thing right here?"

you look up at him, a confusing mess of emotions swirling within your stomach. "because we don't seem to spend much time together anymore," you admit, lowering your eyes to the ground. "laugh all you want, but these stories are there for me whenever i need them. you probably think it's stupid, or pathetic, or whatever, but.. i miss you, 'sumu."

you close your eyes, preparing to hear another round of thunderous laughter. it never comes.

"open yer eyes for me, babe," atsumu's voice is unexpectedly soft, tender. hesitantly, you do, and your gaze meets his. your boyfriend reaches out, resting a calloused hand against your cheek. his touch is so familiar, so comforting, that you can't do anything else but lean in and welcome it. "i didn't know that ya were feelin' this way, and i'll admit that it's my fault for not noticing. but hey, you wanna know somethin'?"

"what is it?" you whisper.

"i miss ya too," your boyfriend confesses. he leans in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. "and tomorrow, i'm taking ya out on a date."

OIKAWA TOORU

"oh my god, this is so cute," you sigh dreamily, swinging your feet in satisfaction as you indulge yourself. it was fanfiction, for crying out loud—can you really be blamed? this particular story practically reeked of fluff. you had just received flowers from the male lead, with you two having confessed just a few days ago. now you were on the first date, entering the doorway to a beautiful relationship that made every reader jealous.

the fact that the male lead—the infamous setter of aoba johsai, fanboy of iwaizumi hajime, hater of ushijima wakatoshi—also happened to be your boyfriend was just a minor detail.

you continued reading, the outside world completely irrelevant as you immersed yourself in the story. soon another squeal leaves your lips as oikawa, the male lead, bends down to kiss your hand. he says something swoonworthy, causing you to giggle like a madman. "that's it, i'm marrying you," you say, as if he can hear you through the story.

"marrying who?"

you let out a defeated sigh as your boyfriend pops his head into your room. there's a pout on oikawa's face, his mocha eyes filled with mock betrayal. still there's a part of you that knows he actually is a little bit jealous; he just doesn't know that technically, he's jealous of himself. "who are you marrying, babe?" he asks you somewhat accusingly. "i think it's a bit too early for—"

"shut up please," you groan, a bit sad that your reading session got interrupted. "i'm reading this fanfiction of you, and in the story, you're actually nice to me."

you immediately hear an indignant gasp from your boyfriend. he puts a hand to his chest, his pout now even more prominent. "excuse me, i am nice to you," oikawa scoffs as he walks over, squinting at the story you're reading. "i'm way better than him!"

"you are him," you deadpan.

"exactly! why are you reading that when i'm right here? i'm hurt," oikawa says in disapproval, shaking his head at you. "now move over."

you blink—once, twice. "wait, what?"

"i wanna read too," oikawa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "so i can list all the things they got wrong about me."

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

maybe reading fanfiction about your boyfriend wasn't the best idea. it's not that the story wasn't great because it really was—the characterization was on-point, the writing style was smooth and elegant, and the plot was creative. it's more about your boyfriend himself. particularly the way that he reacted when he found out.

"am i not good enough?" bokuto asked you quietly as he stared up at you. his golden eyes were absolutely despondent, his shoulders were slouched, and even his owlish hair looked like it was deflated. you didn't need akaashi to understand that those were all signs of an emo bokuto.

and it was all because of you.

man, the guilt was unbearable.

"koutarou," you say softly, reaching out to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "baby, you are more than enough for me. you're amazing, okay? you're my anchor, and you make me smile when no one else can. compared to you, this fanfiction means nothing." you pause, placing a tender kiss against his warm cheek. "seeing you sad makes me sad, you know?"

"i'm sorry," bokuto mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "i thought i'd let you down or something, like i wasn't being a good boyfriend. it scared me."

his words make your heart hurt even more. you pull away from the hug, letting your earnest gaze meet his. "from now on, you don't have to be scared," you tell him seriously. "i'll stop reading fanfiction, and every day, i'll remind you of how much you mean to me. is that fair, kou?"

bokuto nods, and it's at that moment that you start to see the gloomy aura around him disappear. "i love you," he says, and you can tell that he means it. he always does.

you pull him closer, your fingers combing through his hair soothingly. he hums quietly, enjoying the feeling. "i love you too, koutarou," you smile. "and no story will ever change that."

you let a few moments pass by, simply listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. slowly, you let your eyes close, your boyfriend's strong embrace lulling you to a light rest. after a few moments, though, bokuto's voice breaks through the silence. "can i ask you a question, babe?"

you open your eyes. "anything."

he pulls away, his expression completely serious as he looks at you. "can we get something to eat?"

[pygmi-cygni]

clever boy - MK x GN!reader

reader gender is not described could be literally anything. inspired by this post that made me giggle for ten minutes

sfw, no risky content, just silly cuteness. jake isn't mentioned sorry lockley stans but maybe I'll do another version w him <3

Steven and Marc, Marc and Steven. The two of them, peas in a pod. Keeping each other company in Steven's tiny flat.

Until, you.

You'd caught both their eyes, really, but Steven called dibs because he was fronting when you'd met. Though, Marc argued, he was feeding the poor guy lines because he was blushing so hard he couldn't think straight.

From the first day, Steven wanted to jump the gun and tell you how pretty you were and invite you over forever and gush and gush but no. Marc was patient, reminding him to breathe, to take his time. They were in this together, and he didn't want his hope for your affection to be crushed by his headmate's eagerness.

So Steven sat back, hands wringing his sleeves and a stupid smile smarting his cheeks. You thought he was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. His sass made you keel over laughing, listening to his funny recounts of ignorant customers or mishaps on the bus.

He was sweet and pretty and so, so clever.

Which is what first planted the seed of doubt that he didn't like you the way you liked him. Steven, as much as he stuttered, was sharp as a tack. He loved puzzles and trivia and escape room games (though the real thing made his hair stand on end). You thought for sure he'd sniff you out in an instant; your growing crush wasn't discreet.

But he never mentioned it, never made a move, nothing. Marc, whom you'd met a few weeks later, was also very smart. He liked deeper conversations, and his warm gaze would be intensely focused on whatever subject you'd picked. Surely, if Steven missed your hints, Marc would give him a wink and a nudge and bam, game on.

Still, nothing but platonic smiles.

Little did you know, a tug of war was raging in your friend's mind the second you left his flat.

The three of you shared a wall, so Marc ensured his whisper-fights with Steven stayed quiet.

"Too soon," Marc hissed into the kitchen mirror. It was small and round, and you had left a little sticky note with a smiley face on it for them to see in the morning.

Steven was tearing his hair out in the small frame, eyes round and watery. Mate, I've never had this much courage to do anything in my life, you know that, please, it can't be that bad!

Marc gritted his teeth. Naive little Steven.

"What if you scare them off, huh? We've known them for a month and you think they'll jump in just like that?"

Steven paused his worrying, realizing for the first time the kind of fallout that might occur. His cow eyes saddened, imagining the empty space that would replace you, if you didn't reciprocate. He couldn't live with that.

"Just a bit longer," Marc sighed, rubbing his face. He needed to sleep. Steven continued to fume, for once at odds with his best friend.

You'd noticed his distance. Steven, always happy to see you, had withdrawn. He waved quietly in the morning, and mumbled a good night when you passed his door. It stung. Marc was stoic as ever, but his jaw was tighter and he didn't look you in the eye.

Something was wrong.

So, like any good friend would, you picked up takeout and a few movies and knocked on Steven's door.

It took a few moments, but your favorite mop of curls soon peeked out from behind the frame.

"Oh, erm, uh, heya, sorry, did we plan something? I, um," Steven still didn't look you in the eye, fumbling with the latch as he stuttered through an apology. You stepped forward and touched his shoulder.

Smiling what you hoped was gently, you eased his worry. "I just wanted to say hi. I brought snacks," you said, holding up the warm bag of food.

Still nervous, Steven nodded and beckoned you inside.

Bollocks, he griped. Marc was having a conniption, trying to come up with a reason to push you back out. It's raining, Steven pleaded, and we haven't hung out for ages and Thai smells really good and they've got that cute sweater on-

That's the problem, Marc tossed back, you'll trip all over yourself like a fool. Lemme front-

Steven had to bite his lip to stop from yelling his dissent. He'd been pestering Marc to invite you over for days, now was his chance.

You were dividing the curry and rice into equal portions while he poked through the movies and games you'd brought. There were a couple of his favorites, Clue, James Bond (The originals, of course) and some he didn't recognize.

"Hey, what's this?" He grabbed a small box and peered at it. You paused your chopsticks and leaned over.

"Oh," you said around a mouthful of rice, "I dunno, Rachel from work recommended it." You picked at your food as he flipped it over to read the back.

20 Questions, it was titled. Forty different cards, each with a subject. One person had the subject and the other had to guess what it was in twenty questions or less. Only three hints allowed and nothing made-up.

"Let's do it," Steven decided. He enjoyed a challenge and if it meant he could hear your lovely voice, he wasn't complaining. Marc had fallen silent, taking to brooding in the background. Probably for the best - he wasn't very good at puzzles.

You wiped your hands on a napkin and took the first card.

"A classic movie," you read. Steven rocked on his heels for a moment, fiddling with his plate.

"Got it," he said.

You knew what to start with. Steven loved classic movies, but none of the scary ones. Probably something historical.

"Does it take place in the last fifty years?"

He nodded, chewing. One.

"Does it have a female protagonist?" Two.

He shook his head gleefully. That familiar Steven sparkle was back, and it eased the worry in your head. He wasn't so off, then. Maybe just a bad week.

"Does the man have a whip?" You were grinning, sure you'd got it. Steven's lips twitched - he knew he'd been found out.

It took only two more questions for you to guess Indiana Jones, to his shock. You blamed it on luck rather than the adorable predictability of your friend.

Steven's turn next, and it took him halfway to guess "Fondue" at Favorite food. You went back and forth, giggling at each other on the floor of his rainy flat. Steven protested when you argued that he couldn't use himself for Favorite Superhero.

"I am a hero," he wheedled, gesturing to the Moon Knight stuffie you'd got him as a joke.

"Yeah, but you can't guess yourself," you argued. Nowhere in the rules did it say that, but it felt good to have your bickering sessions. You'd missed this - bantering over stupid issues with tummies full of food and a fun game to play.

Steven blushed when you mentioned it. "Sorry," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. "I got busy, 'n Marc was being pissy 'cause - yeah you were, don't be a knob," he muttered to himself. Your grin twitched at the mention of your other friend.

"How is Marc?"

He swallowed thickly. "Uhm...he's, uh, he's swell. Hang on, sorry-" There was a pause as he flickered between scowling and mumbling.

You ignored his stuttering and resumed eating. He needed space at the moment; Marc was probably arguing over something. You didn't want to make them uncomfortable.

"Sorry," Steven said sheepishly. "My turn, yeah?"

Setting down your empty plate, you nodded. Flipping a card, you saw alarm flash across his face. You laughed nervously.

"What?"

He swallowed and smiled nervously. "Nothing, nothing. Ah, I guess, we can skip it if you want...?"

You snatched the card and froze. Longtime Crush.

Fuck. Stay calm, this will be fine. A door of opportunity glowed in your mind, and you smiled.

"No. Let's do it."

Steven, still wary, nodded and tried to push away the intense shame inside. This was going to crush him. He could feel Marc's annoyance through the barrier. Told you so. Not wanting to ruin your game, he soldiered on.

"Is...are they...a man?" You nodded, eyes glittering. God this was worse than torture.

"Have you known him very long?"

You thought about it. "Yeah, I guess. Feels like forever." Great, you'd had a childhood crush all along. He never stood a chance. Marc was burying his head in his hands. Steven wanted to push him to the front so he could have a good cry, but he needed to face it. His fault you were here anyway.

"Do you see him at work?"

"N....Sometimes," you added. He scrunched his nose.

"Whaddya mean sometimes? Either you do or you-"

"Next question," you laughed. Steven wracked his brain.

"Oh, bugger, uh...." he didn't want to pry, but he couldn't think of anything.

"Need a hint?" You were on the verge of cackling. Grumpily, he shook his head.

"Does he live nearby?"

"Definitely."

He pursed his lips, thinking of your small social circle. Your work was a tiny office, there had to be a few guys that he knew.

"Does...Is he friends with our friends?"

You nodded. "He's very close."

He had to be missing something. "Fine, gimme a hint."

"Well," you began, smile stretching to the moon, "he's very clever. He'd like this game, I think. He likes to laugh, but he can be quite serious too." Ignoring the fact that you'd given him two hints, Steven's heart wilted as he noticed the starry look in your eyes. Whoever this guy was, he was a lucky chap.

Marc was miserable, gloominess radiating. Steven felt awful, he hadn't meant for this to go so poorly. Just get through the questions, Marc grumbled.

"Where does he work?"

You tapped your chin. "Well...he's got two jobs."

His eyebrows raised. "Busy fella, huh?"

"Yeah." Your lips quirked. "Almost seems like he's two people."

"What's his jobs, then?"

"Let's see...it's very unconventional," you said slowly, a cute smile on your face, "Sorta self-employed."

Steven cocked his head at the confusing answer. Self employed? That's not really a second job. Marc shrugged. We're kinda self employed, so it could be.

It was strange how many similarities he found between himself and this mystery man.

"I'll give you a hint," you said after the moment dragged. Steven vehemently shook his head.

"No, I've got it, swear."

You giggled. "it won't count, promise. He's got a pet fish."

Steven threw up his hands in exasperation. "How've I never met this man?! We sound almost identical, I'm sure I'd remember him!"

You were bent over laughing now. He sat there, bewildered, while Marc watched with growing understanding.

Steven, he hissed. Steven, hang on.

Stop being a spoilsport, I know you're mad, Steven retorted, too invested in the game.

"Marc's met him," you said between fits, tears streaking your cheeks. Marc opened his mouth again but Steven waved him away.

"Nuh uh, I can do this," he said determinedly. STEVEN! Marc was shouting now, thumping his hands in vain.

You'd stopped laughing, grinning like a loon while you waited. He'd get it now, surely, you hoped, the fading laughter revealing your anxiety.

Steven had short-circuited, eyes flicking around like a pinball machine.

"You're clever," you murmured, "you'll get it."

He snapped out of it and raked a hand through his messy curls. "Hang on, hang on, what? This doesn't- how can he be friends with our friends when the only man friend you've got is me?" He was genuinely perplexed, triggering a sympathetic smile from you.

Marc was in fits now, and Steven was getting a headache. Oi, Marc, chill out a bit, yeah? I'm trying to-

Steven for once in your life listen this is important oh my God-

"What?" he relented, mouthing sorry at you. Marc heaved a breath and closed his eyes.

You. Us. Steven, it's so obvious.

Steven rolled his eyes. "Me? You've lost it, mate, really, you've gone mad."

He froze, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Oh my days, sorry, I didn't mean to guess so soon, sorry-"

You did nothing but grin, leaning closer. "Clever boy," you whispered, then pressed your lips to his.

Marc fainted.

Steven, sweet man, had frozen, too preoccupied with his internal screaming do understand what was happening.

Oh.

oh.

His hands found their way to your cheeks and he giggled, the sweet sound muffled against your lips. It was clunky and off-centered, but it was real and he was laughing and every insecurity he'd ever had vanished in a puff of smoke.

You pulled back for a breath, but Steven hadn't finished, chasing after you with a huff. Marc, finally back online, was sitting in a lovesick stupor. Your lips were soft and your hands were rubbing soothingly down his back. A quiet solitude had blanketed the flat, now dark. Steven leaned his head on your shoulder and you hugged him tight, smiling into his neck. The two of you breathed together, winding down from the excitement of your game.

Once you'd sufficiently relaxed, you pulled away and were met with Marc's twinkling gaze.

"Y'know, I was the one that gave Steven the head's up, so I think I-"

"C'mere you," You huffed, peppering his cheeks in light pecks. He preened, taking a heavy sigh of relief. Marc leaned in and captured your lips, licking gently into your mouth. He'd definitely had more practice, and your heart sang with joy.

Game over, plates empty and hearts full, you curled up and watched the rain pitter-patter in the warm comfort of your home.

yes i think steven loves james bond. he is the type to try and figure out the mystery along with the movie. also 100% knows all cinema trivia Ever To Exist. Marc hates it.

xox thank uuuu

part 2