#and while things are slow to change i do have to admit it surprises me

[victoriousscarf]

This article was from last October and thus does not take the most recent events into account but I often find myself going back to it lately... Excuse me while I also now quote excessively from it below:

ROBINSON

And this helps us to understand the development of Palestinian resistance to this project. Today, this is characterized often as being based on irrational anti-Semitism. But as you point out, when we understand the history of the development of this resistance, we see it differently. There are even early Zionists on the record saying things like I don’t know how you expect the Palestinians to react, they’re going to react the same way every indigenous population reacts when there is a colonial project to impose minority rule. [Ben-Gurion himself said: “If I were an Arab leader, I would never sign an agreement with Israel. It is normal; we have taken their country.”]

...

ROBINSON

There have been many attempts in the United States and Israel to make Palestinians completely unpalatable and impossible offers and then characterize Palestinians as unreasonable, uncompromising “rejectionists” when they won’t accept the offer.

KHALIDI

That’s a trope that goes back to Abba Eban: “Never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity.” There weren’t very many opportunities. There might have been one or two. I talk about the 1939 White Paper. It was a very limited opportunity. The Palestinians, in my view, were very foolish to fail to accept it. There might have been other opportunities. I was involved in the negotiations at Madrid and Washington [in the early 1990s] with an Israeli delegation in which we tried to achieve self-determination and statehood. And that was something that was systematically denied us by the ground rules laid down by the United States at the behest of Israel. The same ground rules ended up governing the Oslo process later on. So there was no opportunity there.

It turns out, I argue in the book, and I’ve argued elsewhere, that the maximum that would be offered, has ever been offered to the Palestinians, is some form of autonomy under Israeli sovereignty with complete and absolute Israeli security control. Israelis would have control of the borders, the airspace, the land, and the water under everything that Israel was willing to offer under every Israeli government. I go into Yitzhak Rabin’s shift in his willingness to accept the existence of a Palestinian people and his willingness to negotiate with the PLO. But even Rabin in his last speech made it very clear that there would never be a Palestinian state.

So self-determination, statehood, and independence are ruled out by the Americans and Israelis, then and now, I would argue. So what are we talking about? You can pick up your own garbage, but we’ll arrest anybody we want, any time we want, to torture them, beat them up, and drag them off to our jails. And we’ll do it to anybody who resists our dominance, and we make all the laws, and you obey our military rules. What kind of “state” is that? That’s not a very good deal.

ROBINSON

Let me dwell on this because it seems critical. To the extent that there has been talk of a “two state solution,” what has actually been on the table consistently in every negotiation for the last 50 years has never involved a concession by the United States and Israel—they negotiate together—that Palestinians should have anything that we would consider to be equivalent to a state in the sense that other states are states.

KHALIDI

The United States talks the talk, but it will not walk the walk. It will never say “this outcome has to include complete and absolute Palestinian independence.” It will never impose that in Israel. It will never lay that on the table as the outcome that has to be reached.

There are some Israeli governments that came closer to this than others. Rabin came closer. But none of them would have accepted the idea that Israel would give up its security control, that Israel would cease to control the borders, that Israel would cease to be the only sovereign power. I mean, if you don’t have your own army and your own borders, and your own economy, and your own ports and your own airports and your own airspace, you’re not sovereign. You’re not independent. You’re a dependent subunit of a larger sovereign state. And that’s all that Israel has so far been willing to offer. The United States has never pushed it to do anything more than what Israel was willing to do. The deference of the United States to Israel is limitless.

...

ROBINSON

When you said the Palestinians are not engaging in terrorism, one important point is that various means of resistance are denied them. You’re very critical in the book of attacks on civilians. But at every stage, the available ways that Palestinians can fight back have been constricted, and those things that horrify us come out of that. 

KHALIDI

I think there’s another point to be made. I argue in the book that various forms of armed action, including, especially, attacks on civilians, are horrific, immoral, and, very importantly, politically counterproductive. I go into this in some detail at one point in the book. But it has to be said that slaughtering civilians is slaughtering civilians. When Israel kills 16 children and five women in Gaza, using 2000-pound bombs and Hellfire missiles, if you don’t describe that as terrorism, and you describe the death of an Israeli child or an Israeli woman or another Israeli civilian as terrorism, this is Orwellian language. You are simply using the word “terrorism” as a bludgeon to demonize Palestinian resistance, whereas somehow the murder of children in Gaza … 16 kids were killed in these attacks, five women were killed in these attacks. Heaven knows how many other civilians were killed. Maybe a dozen militants were killed? I don’t know. But 30 or so civilians were murdered. If that’s not terrorism, then the word has no meaning. And this happens every single time. There were 240 civilians killed in one of these attacks a few years ago. Each time the toll is equally lopsided. Why are attacks on civilians not considered terrorism? If you use the same measure, I have no problem with the use of that term. But then you have to describe the use of Hellfire missiles and F-16s and heavy artillery in the same way. In the book I go into the kinds of weapons that are used by Israel— the artillery, the missiles, the aircraft, the helicopters—and the indiscriminate nature of the attacks on a population of a couple of million people in a tiny area. If that’s not terrorism, I don’t know what is. But of course, the term is only applied to the Palestinians. Somehow Ukrainian resistance is not terrorism yet Palestinian resistance is. I repeat, I think the killing of civilians is wrong and immoral. It’s a violation of international law. But if that’s true for the Palestinians, certainly it’s true for the Israelis as well and on a much larger scale.

[mcrdvcks]

Until I Found You

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

Word Count: 24.3k+

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

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

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

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

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

warnings: none!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled. "See you tomorrow, Laura."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that you’d ever admit that to her.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart skipped a beat. How does she know?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Laura just smirked, flipping another page in her sketchbook.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Flirting?" Emma offered with a raised eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

"I have a life," you protested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Logan, I—"

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Laura. D’you need anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shrugged. “Resting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shook her head. “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Laura hesitated for a second before nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

“You’re doing good, Laura.” You said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled softly. “Of course. Anytime.”

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

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

---

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes, “don’t start.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Logan?”

He paused, his back to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Laura had probably planned this all along.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

A beat passed. Then another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

This was new.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mornin’, kid,” Logan greeted her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smart kid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logan snorted. "Real generous of you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Laura nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”

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

“Something like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logan didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Thanks."

There was a brief silence between you, the air charged with something unspoken but palpable. Before you could say anything else, Laura came bounding back, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Ready to go?" she asked, looking between the two of you with that same knowing glint in her eyes.

"Yeah," Logan said, ruffling her hair lightly. "Let’s get outta here."

As they started to head for the door, Logan paused, glancing back at you. "See you around, Y/N."

"Yeah," you replied, feeling your heart skip again. "See you around, Logan."

---

It had been a few days since the Valentine’s Day event, and things had settled back into routine. You were sitting in your living room, halfway through grading papers, when there was a knock on your door.

Opening it, you found Logan standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," he greeted, voice low. "Laura wanted me to ask if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. Just... thought it’d be nice."

You blinked, surprised by the invitation. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to invite people over casually, but something about the way he stood there, slightly awkward, made your heart skip a beat.

"Sure," you said, smiling. "I’d like that."

Dinner at Logan’s place was unexpectedly warm. Laura set the table with care, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected as Logan recounted some old stories about his past. The tension that usually simmered between you felt different tonight—softer, like you were slowly crossing an invisible line you’d both been careful to avoid.

As you helped clear the dishes, your hand brushed against Logan’s, and the brief contact made you pause. He glanced at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a quiet acknowledgment of something building between you.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

“Anytime,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you as you turned to put the plates away. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was hard with Logan standing so close. It was like every time you were around him, you felt like something unspoken hovered between you—something that Laura, in her quiet, clever way, seemed determined to help along.

Laura wandered back into the room, a book in her hands. “Y/N, can you help me with my English homework?” she asked, holding it up and glancing between you and Logan like she hadn’t just interrupted a moment.

You blinked, turning to her with a small smile. “Of course, I can take a look.”

“Great!” Laura said, her voice a little too cheerful. She plopped down on the couch and spread her notebook and book out in front of her. “It’s this essay I’ve got to write.”

Logan lingered by the kitchen counter, his eyes flicking to Laura’s book with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he muttered, and before you could say anything, he was stepping outside, probably to get some fresh air or give you and Laura some space.

You turned your attention back to Laura, still smiling but a bit confused. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”

Laura launched into an explanation, talking about a character analysis she needed to do for class. As you glanced over her notes, though, it struck you that everything was pretty much perfect. Her sentences were clear, her argument made sense, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. Like always, it was perfect.

“Laura… this is really good,” you said slowly, giving her an impressed look. “I don’t think you need help with this.”

Laura’s face stayed impassive, but you caught a faint hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay,” she said casually, glancing in the direction Logan had gone.

Something clicked then, and you had to suppress a chuckle. So this was just another one of Laura’s little schemes to get you to stick around. You were starting to see the pattern—tiny excuses to keep you close, to get you and Logan in the same room more often. It was subtle, but now that you were catching on, it was impossible to miss.

“Well, your essay’s great,” you said, folding your arms as you gave her a knowing look. “But I think there’s more going on here than just English homework.”

Laura’s gaze stayed steady on yours, and for a moment, you could see a glimpse of something deeper in those eyes—something far beyond her years. “He’s lonely,” she said quietly, so softly that you almost missed it.

Your heart gave a small squeeze at that. It was true that Logan always seemed like a man on the outskirts of everything, never quite fitting in. And you knew he and Laura had been through a lot together, more than most people could imagine. But he wasn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings—or admit he might need someone else in his life.

“Maybe,” you replied gently, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “But that’s something he has to figure out on his own, okay?”

Laura nodded slowly, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “He likes you,” she said, blunt as ever. “And you like him.”

Your cheeks heated, and you glanced away, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t the first time Laura has said something like this. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”

“Why not?” she asked, her brow furrowing like she genuinely didn’t understand.

You struggled to find the right words. How could you explain that things with Logan were complicated—that you weren’t sure where you stood with him, or if there was even a place for you in his life beyond being Laura’s teacher? And yet, every time you were near him, there was this pull, this quiet magnetism that made you wonder.

“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” you admitted finally, feeling a little silly for having this conversation with an eleven-year-old.

Laura’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You won’t.”

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan stepped back inside, his gaze immediately going to the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone gruff but laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you said quickly, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions Laura’s words had stirred up. You stood up, smoothing down your shirt as you gave him a smile. “I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.”

Logan nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost looked like disappointment. “I’ll walk you out.”

He led you to the door, and you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laura. She gave you a small, encouraging smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks again for coming,” Logan said as he opened the door, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Anytime,” you replied, echoing your earlier words as you stepped outside. The cool night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of Logan’s gaze on you.

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like something should be said, but neither of you knew what. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you glanced up at him.

“Logan, I—”

“Y/N, I—”

You both spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a startled laugh.

“You first,” Logan muttered, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I wanted to say that I really enjoyed tonight. And I know Laura’s been… well, playing matchmaker or something,” you added with a chuckle, “but I just want you to know that I’m not—”

“Using her as an excuse to get close?” Logan finished for you, his voice dry but not unkind.

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah.”

Logan stood there, his eyes steady on yours, and for a moment, you both let the silence fill the space between you. He shifted his weight, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit, and for the first time, it felt like he was truly considering what to say next.

"Look, I know Laura's been trying to push things," he said, his voice low and gruff, but gentler than usual. "She's... smart, too smart sometimes. But this—tonight—it wasn’t just about her."

You blinked, surprised by his admission. You weren’t used to Logan being so open, especially about anything personal. He seemed to read the surprise in your face and let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like this was harder for him than any physical fight he’d been in.

"What I mean is," he continued, glancing at the ground before his eyes flicked back up to yours, "it’s not just her, Y/N. I didn’t mind tonight. And that’s not something I say often."

Your breath hitched a little at his words, heart beating a little faster. There was a vulnerability in Logan that you weren’t expecting—a side of him that he clearly didn’t let out much, if at all.

"I didn’t mind it either," you said softly, trying to match his tone, to let him know you weren’t taking this lightly. "And Laura... well, she’s got a way of seeing things."

Logan let out a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that caught you off guard. "Yeah, she does. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good." His eyes softened as he spoke about her, a fondness there that made you smile.

"She just wants you to be happy," you said gently. "And, I guess, maybe me too."

Logan looked at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more here than just a shared concern for Laura. You had always admired Logan’s strength, his quiet loyalty, the way he looked after Laura with such fierce protectiveness. But standing there now, with the night air cool against your skin and Logan’s presence so close, it felt different. More personal.

"You know," Logan said after a long pause, his voice low again, "I don’t exactly have a lot of people in my life. Never been good at that sort of thing. But... you’re good with Laura. And you’re—" He stopped, his jaw tightening for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should say the next part. "You’re good for us."

Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you could feel the weight of what he wasn’t saying—the layers beneath that simple statement. You’re good for us. It wasn’t just about being Laura’s teacher anymore. It was about something more.

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced a smile to keep things light. “Good for you?” you repeated with a slight chuckle. There was an ache there, something that hinted at how much more those words meant coming from Logan—someone who didn’t let people in easily. The way he looked at you, steady and deliberate, made it hard to brush aside. His eyes held yours a little longer than usual, almost daring you to look away.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble, and you couldn’t help but notice how the weight of the night seemed to gather between you, thick in the air. Logan’s usual guarded stance had softened, just enough for you to sense it. He stepped a bit closer, enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, the earthy scent of cigars and the wild outdoors clinging to his skin.

You shifted on your feet, trying to figure out where this was heading, but the flutter in your chest only grew stronger. Something unspoken seemed to pass between you two, like a current beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to reach down and touch it.

“I think Laura’s got something figured out,” you admitted, voice soft as you kept your eyes on him. “She’s smart enough to see what’s happening here.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile. “Yeah, too smart sometimes.” His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up at you, there was something different there—something raw. “But she’s right. You’re good for us. Hell, you’re good for me.” His words carried a weight, a kind of honesty that took you by surprise, even though deep down, you’d been hoping to hear them for a while.

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse quickened. “Logan, I…” You started to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that drew you in.

And then, as if some invisible line snapped, Logan took another step toward you, his rough hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, the touch light but electrifying. “I don’t say things like this often,” he muttered, his voice husky, the growl in it more pronounced now, “but I want you to stay close. For Laura, yeah, but... for me too.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, your body reacting to the closeness of him, the way his hand lingered on your cheek. It wasn’t just the softness in his eyes or the tenderness of his touch, but the way he was looking at you, like he was seeing more than just the surface.

“I’ve wanted to stay close,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, as your hand gently touched his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, like the pull between you was more than just chemistry.

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the cool night air, the sound of distant traffic, even the faint light from inside the house. All that mattered was the closeness, the way you could feel his breath mingling with yours.

Before you knew it, Logan was leaning in, and you closed the gap without thinking. His lips pressed against yours, rough and warm, and everything else just melted away. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but then it deepened, and the heat between you flared like wildfire.

His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you could feel the solid strength of his body as you pressed into him. The kiss was everything you hadn’t let yourself think about for so long—filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

Logan kissed like he lived—intensely, without holding back. His grip on your waist tightened as if he was afraid to let go, and you responded in kind, threading your fingers into the rough texture of his hair. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just the two of you, connected in this raw, unexpected moment.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still ragged.

“I—” you started to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and hoarse.

“Don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t ruin it with words, not yet.”

You nodded, biting back whatever thought was trying to escape. The night air felt cooler now, the warmth of Logan’s body contrasting sharply against it, grounding you in the moment. His hand lingered on your waist, thumb brushing your side, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, like even he was surprised by what just happened.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice quieter than before. “Didn’t think this’d happen,” he admitted, almost to himself.

You gave a soft laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Me either.”

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and he shifted slightly, his hand moving from your waist to gently brush your cheek. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender for him that it made your heart twist a little.

For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. Part of you wanted to step back, to put some distance between you and Logan, to give yourself a chance to think. But another part—the stronger part—wanted to stay right where you were, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the rough edge of his thumb grazing your cheek.

Meanwhile, Laura peeked through the blinds, a smile spreading across her face.

tags: @freythecrazyfae

[dandylovesturtles]

Decided to write a quick little something for @whumperless-whump-event Day 4: chronic pain/"I'm used to it."

featuring, of course, Sidelined Leo!

like I said before, since it's disability pride month I'd like to do a few things for the Sidelined AU, so hopefully I will find time for more as the days go. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

-----

Leo can tell it's going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up.

The pain in his arms and legs has grown from it's constant dull thrum to a more present burn, and there's a pinch between his eyes that tells him a headache is on the way. Really, he's not surprised; the last few days have been really good. He even went out on a mission two days ago, and did a little skateboarding yesterday. It stands to reason that his body has crashed out on him.

Sometimes he feels angry and bitter about it. Today, he just feels a sort of resigned acceptance. And that means maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

He hits the button on the side of the bed so it bends him into a reclined position, then fumbles around on his side table until his hand lands on his pill organizer. He should probably text someone to bring him water, but it feels like a pain, so he dry swallows them one by one and just resolves not to mention doing that to Dad or Raph.

Then he finally blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks around his room and... darn it, his chair isn't here. Where'd he even leave it...

His memory is a complete blank on that one, so he sighs and clears his throat.

"Hey, Shell-man?"

There's only a second of silence before Shelldon's voice echoes from who even knows where. Donnie rigged his new room with more electronics than Leo will ever know about.

"S'up bro?"

"You know where my chair is?" he asks, like Shelldon can't track it instantly.

"You left it in the arcade, dude," comes the answer. "Want me to wheel it over?"

Yeah, no way he's getting himself to the arcade today. "Sure, thanks, Shelly."

"No problem, dude!"

Leo lets his head flop back on his pillows while he wants for his chair to be delivered. He fumbles around for his phone this time and takes a look at his reminders.

6:00 PM: Concert with Mikester

"Crap," he mutters, closing his eyes. Right, that yokai hip-hop group Mikey wanted to go see. Leo had promised he'd go with him, but he doubts he'll be able to do it now.

It's not that big a deal. Raph or Donnie will probably go with him if Mikey makes big enough puppy eyes at them. It's just, Leo had been kinda excited about it, too...

The dark buzz that heralds his anxiety flares up, and he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow. He doesn't want this day to turn terrible. He needs to relax and accept the things he can't change, like April always says. Even when it sucks.

There's a whir of electronics that signals the arrival of his chair. Leo waits until it parks itself next to his bed, then he swings his legs over the bed and stands up just long enough to sit down in the chair again. Even that leaves him feeling a little winded, but he doubts his arms could have handled the transfer so he doesn't bother trying.

He wheels around his room until he finds his big comfy unicorn hoodie, then drives out into the rest of the lair, making his way up the ramp to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast cooking, and hear Raph's voice.

"Morning fam," he says as he comes in, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he already feels tired.

"Morning Leo!" Mikey echoes, turning around with a whole plate of waffles. His smile falters a little when he sees the chair and the hoodie. "Oof. Flare up?"

"Yeah," he admits, steering his chair into the empty part of the kitchen table. Mikey sets the waffle plate down, and without having to be asked Raph starts fixing some for Leo, with blueberries on top.

It took work for them both to find the line between helping and babying, but they're better at this now. Leo doesn't mind Raph helping him out this way, especially because he'd rather not make a mess of the kitchen table.

"Mikey, can you grab my fat fork?"

"It has a name," says a tired voice behind him, and Leo smirks as Donnie comes around the side and makes for the coffee machine.

"I just used it. It's the fat fork."

"It's a GeniusBuilt Secure Grip Adjustable Fork-"

"I'm not saying all that."

Donnie huffs. Mikey snickers, swinging around him to deliver the fork with the thick grip to Leo. He has another set with a loop that can secure to his hand if he needs it, but this one is fine for now.

"Here!

"Thanks Angelo."

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Raph asks.

"Yes, Mom," says Leo, rolling his eyes as he cuts off a bite of waffle.

"Really? 'Cause Raph didn't hear you ask anyone to bring you water-"

"I had some leftover Gatorade in my room," Leo lies quickly.

"Uh-huh." Raph looks at him skeptically. "Leo, you know taking pills without water hurts your throat."

"Meh meh meh, you'll hurt your throat," Leo repeats in a mocking voice. Raph reaches over like he's going to cuff Leo on the head, then seems to rethink it and steals some of his blueberries instead. "Hey!"

"You are all so noisy already," comes Splinter's voice, and he finally comes into the room to join them, wearing the robe he slept in. He looks up at Leo in his chair. "Are you in pain, Blue?"

Leo hums an affirmative. "It's not that bad, though," he adds, because it's not. Comparatively.

Now it's his dad's turn to look skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Leo grimaces. "It's... a little worse than normal," he amends. "But I can handle it."

"Mmm..." Splinter walks off to get in his own seat. "Let us know if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah..."

The conversation moves on to other topics, up until Leo's wheelchair beeps at him. He groans, glancing down at the battery indicator, which is firmly in the red.

"You forgot to charge it, didn't you?" asks Donnie, looking amused.

"Shut up, I've been busy!" Leo snaps back.

"If you left it on the charger when you aren't using it then this wouldn't happen."

"Alright, anyone else have any criticisms for me today?" he says, except it comes out a shade too bitter and Donnie's grin falters.

Good job, Leon, way to be a dick. He winces, focusing again on his waffles. His arm is sore from the effort of eating and he wants to crawl back in bed and stay there, which is exactly the sort of attitude he's been trying to avoid.

"...I have the backup chair in the lab if you need it," says Donnie. A peace offering.

"Thanks," says Leo, returning it.

So after breakfast, Donnie helps him swap chairs. His main one is put on the charger and he wheels himself to the living room with the backup, then calls for Raph.

"Think you can help me get comfy, big guy?" he asks.

"Of course," says Raph with a grin. "What do you want?"

It's nice that he asks now, instead of assuming.

Leo directs him to help him onto the couch, then Raph gets him his fluffy blue blanket to cover him up. Even though he took his meds, he can feel the pain radiating at his hips and knees and he guesses he's going to need more later. He sets an alarm on his phone and settles in with a Jupiter Jim flick to fall asleep to.

He's not out yet when he hears the pad of feet, then feels the couch dip as Mikey sits next to him.

"Hey Leo," he says softly, and Leo gives a hum to let him know he's still awake. "You think... you're gonna feel up for the concert tonight?"

Oh right. Shoot. It had already slipped Leo's mind, and now he feels guilty all over again.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head so he can see Mikey. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta apologize!" says Mikey quickly. "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's fine," says Leo. "I'm used to it."

"I'm still sorry," says Mikey firmly. He gets up, then comes over so he can give Leo a very awkward couch hug. "I wish you didn't have to hurt," he says, sincerely.

Leo leans into the hug. Feels the dark buzz of anxiety ebb away.

"Hey, it's alright. All you guys make it easier."

Mikey beams at that, bouncing back up. "Hey, I know," he says. "I'll get Donnie to help me set up a sweet livestream so you can see the concert from right here!"

They don't have to go to all that trouble for him. But Leo looks up at his little brother's shining smile and can't say no.

"That'd be really cool," he says, and Mikey claps his hands.

"Yes! Okay, I'll go get Dee and we'll get on it!"

He races away. Leo chuckles, curling up under his blanket.

Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

[soaplickerrr]

Accidentally Coincidental

CHAPTER 11 (click pictures for better quality)

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a/n: updates will be slow, i'm working on a pretty long fic on my side blog.

pairing: Idol!Kim Seungmin x Fem!College Student!Reader

genre: contemporary romance

SMAU

synopsis: Y/N, a regular college student accidentally texts Seungmin, a star in the K-pop group Stray Kids while trying to text her Ex, Soonyoung to come pick up his things, leading to an unexpected connection that blossoms into a heartfelt romance.

ignore time stamps, dates (other than the ones mentioned during texting) and typos

THERES A WRITTEN PART, DO NOT JUST SCROLL THROUGH THE PICS!

The morning light filtered through your curtains, painting your room in soft golden light.

You stretched lazily in bed, the memory of your first date with Seungmin still fresh in your mind.

The quiet moments, the playful teasing, and the way his hand felt warm and steady in yours, it had all left a lingering warmth in your chest.

As you reached for your phone, a message notification greeted you. It was from Seungmin, from 10 minutes ago.

You hesitated, a flicker of nervousness settling in your stomach. This wasn’t like your first date, where you’d blended into the crowd. But the thought of seeing him again was too tempting to resist.

As soon as you reached the JYP building, the common morning bustle was going on. Trainees were speedily going around with a strapped-on gym bag, staff rushed about from conference room to conference room, and the humming sound that filled the air was so familiar to productivity.

You settled into your desk in the editing department and booted up your workstation, diving into the day's assignments. The first thing on your plate was reviewing footage of a recent Stray Kids dance practice. The video flickered to life on your screen, and your eyes inevitably landed on Seungmin.

Even now, in rehearsal mode, he stood out. Intent and exacting, yet light in his movements- quietly confident in a way that made it impossible not to smile as you worked. Surreal, to be watching him like this after the time you'd spent with him off-camera.

"Y/N, can you send me the final cut for the highlight reel?" Jina's voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“On it!" you replied, exporting the file in record time. The rest of the morning flew by in a haze of edits and emails, though you did find yourself checking the clock more often than usual. As noon started to draw near, a quiet excitement started to bubble up inside you.

You glanced at your watch; it was exactly noon, lunch. Taking your phone, you headed towards the elevators. Every step seemed to kick your heart into higher gear, and as you rounded the corner, there he was, leaned against the wall, casually dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans.

It sent a wave of warmth through you at the mere sight of him, and before your brain could overthink it, you just walked right up to him and leaned in, pressing a quick peck on his lips.

The effect was instant. Seungmin froze, staring at you with wide eyes, his lips parted in surprise.

"You okay there?" you tease, taking a step back.

He blinked once; his composure faltered for a beat before a slow, boyish grin spread through his face. "Well. I certainly wasn't expecting that."

You shrugged, attempting to play it cool despite your racing heart. "Consider it a thank you for planning lunch."

"I may have to plan more lunches, then," he said lowly.

"Come on," you said, your eyes rolling even as a smile crept onto your face. "Let's eat before I change my mind."

Seungmin guided you down a deserted hallway and opened the door to one of the smaller dance practice rooms. A little table inside was set with takeout containers and drinks, even a few desserts. The room was dimly lit; the mirrors running floor to ceiling reflected the cozy scene.

"Impressed?" he asked, the grin laced with a hint of pride.

You laughed, sitting down on the floor across from him. "I'll admit, I didn't expect this. But it's… nice."

He handed you a drink and unwrapped his food. "Figured it'd be better than the cafeteria. Less crowded."

The conversation had started light as you dug into your meals, talking work, favorite foods, and random quirks of daily routines. As the minutes passed, the conversation turned deeper, more personal.

"What's been the best part of editing so far?" Seungmin asked, leaning forward slightly.

You picked at your food for a moment, thinking. "I think it's getting to see all the little details- the moments people don't always catch. Like in that dance practice footage, there was this part where you smiled at Hyunjin after a misstep. It was so fast, but it made the whole clip feel more real."

Seungmin tilted his head, a soft smile tugging on his lips. "You're really good at noticing things, aren't you?"

You shrugged, feeling a little shy under his gaze. "It's part of the job, I guess."

"It's more than that," he said, his tone thoughtful. "You care about what you're doing. It shows."

His words had brought color to your cheeks, and you changed the subject in a hurry, asking him to talk about his best memories of performances. He launched into a story about a chaotic onstage moment, replete with exaggerated impressions of his groupmates, and you laughed so hard you almost spilled your drink.

As the lunch hour drew to a close, you both sat back, sipping your drinks, and let the quiet fall around you.

"Thanks for this," you said softly. "I didn't realize just how much I needed it."

"Anytime," Seungmin replied, the warmth of his voice palpable. "We can make it a habit. Lunch breaks should be fun."

He rose and extended a hand to you, hoisting you to your feet with little difficulty. As you straightened your jacket, he looked at the time. "I should probably walk you back. Wouldn't want anyone accusing me of kidnapping our star editor."

The walk back to the editing department was silent, but comfortable, Seungmin walking near enough that your arms touched from time to time. There was just something so trustworthy in his presence- something grounding- and you'd smiled without even realizing it.

Just as you rounded a corner near your department, Seungmin suddenly slowed his pace. In that instant, his expression changed, melting into one confusion and suspicion.

"What?" you asked, scanning where he was looking.

"Han," he muttered under his breath.

Sure enough, a little farther down the hall, Han was leaning casually against the wall, phone in hand. He didn't even try to hide it as he snapped a quick photo of the two of you walking together.

"Don't mind me," Han said, grinning as he pocketed his phone. "Just documenting history."

Seungmin sighed, rubbing his temples. "Han, don't-"

"Too late," Han interrupted, already walking away. "Check the group chat."

Seungmin groaned loudly, muttering something under his breath before turning back to you with a soft apologetic smile. "Sorry about him. He's…enthusiastic."

You laughed shaking your head. "It's fine. I'll leave that chaos in your hands."

With a final smile, Seungmin watched you go back into the editing department, a quiet warmth settling over him.

The phone wouldn't stop buzzing later that afternoon. Seungmin opened the group chat to find Han's photo, and the usual chaos.

Shaking his head, Seungmin pocketed his phone, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the teasing.

It felt like this chapter was very short and rushed :3

TAGLIST - CLOSED - if your name is in pink, I couldn't tag you

🏷️: @disasterousdangerousbi @akitfffr @alexateurmom @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sunarins-whore @feelikecinderella @minniesuperversee @istglevi-gotmesimping @dreamerwasfound @whiteghostt @your-favorite-pirate @pnutbutter-n-j-elyy @chuuyaobsessed @ihrtlix @onlyhyunjin @jisuperboard @dazzlingjade @sellomaybe @lixiesbrownies333 @kkamismom12 @iatemycatfreckles @puppyminnnie @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ayyonoona @missvanjii @jc003 @dontwannaexsist @everglowdaisies

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Heyy!! I absolutely ✨LOVE✨ your work I've basically been stalking your blog😅. But anyway I was wondering if you could please, please do Nozel, Fuegoleon,and William where their s/o (preferably f!) yells or very calmly (your choice, does not matter which or how) says their full name in front of family/friends/squad (again your choice could be all, depends on you) and their reaction to it. I completely understand if you don't want to do it or it takes you a while to get to it thank you for your work regardless! I wish you well!! ❤❤❤

Hiya! I am overjoyed that you like my fics!!! And though I took my sweet time with this, I hope that you still enjoy it <3

Pairings: Nozel x f!reader, Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader Fanfic type: Headcanons Genre: hurt-comfort?, and some giggles ?? Total length: ~2k (about 650 words each) Contains: misunderstandings, reader raising her voice to the guys/displays anger to them, they make up in the end ('cause it was a misunderstanding), hurt-comfort, so fluffy ends

Nozel

You had a favourite pen. The kind in which you could change the ink cartilage, and thus keep using the pen for years and years. Though the ink dispensing mechanism had broken some years ago, you held onto the pen itself for sentimental value.

And it was always in a specific drawer in your room.

However, one day when you opened the drawer, the pen case nor the pen were there.

You scrambled through the drawer, first thinking to yourself that it must’ve just been pushed back, but after scouring through the drawer, the box, nor the pen, didn’t surface.

Your mind jumped to the idea of a servant having taken it, but quickly realized that it didn’t make sense. They didn’t go through drawers such as this one. ‘Such as this one’ because they obviously folded your clothes and put them into your clothing drawers. But this one was of no importance to the servants. And even if they had, for any reason, chosen to go through other drawers in the room, the pen case was among the least likely things to take.

Which meant that there was only one other person, who could’ve likely taken it. Your husband.

He was currently with the rest of the Eagles at the squad’s training grounds, and though he was occupied, you wanted to, needed to know now why he had discarded your favourite pen. Yes, sure, it was broken, but there was no harm in holding onto such a small item. You had space!

So, you stomped through the corridors to the training grounds, and spotted him some distance away, looking at his knights. Seeming somewhat uninterested. Or just held his poker face.

This was where he held his poker face. Looked as if nothing had happened.

And it spiked a kind of annoyance, anger even, in you, which made you yell out to him: “Nozel Evander Silva!”

He turned to look.

Other knights turned to look.

The trainings halted for a moment, and everyone just looked at you, glaring at Nozel.

He looked to the knights standing next to him, and said something, before walking towards you, as you crossed your arms and waited for him to get to you. And as he did, he looked at you, with concern on his face, hidden behind the mask of the squad captain.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, the syllables revealing more of his feelings than the expression that quivered, trying to upkeep the facade of a strong, unfaltering squad captain.

“Where. Is. My. Pen?” You asked, feeling the annoyance, almost anger, bubbling to the surface. “You know how much it means to me!” You said with a grave tone, without raising your voice, so that the knights wouldn’t hear. There was no need for them to know such details of your personal life.

His eyes closed in a slow blink, and a sigh escaped his lips. “I was hoping to surprise you,” he said with a hint of melancholy.

You frowned, not sure what, exactly, he meant by it.

“I thought to get it fixed, so that you might use it again, instead of just having it sit in that drawer,” he admitted.

And you... felt a wide variety of emotions. Affection, joy, but also guilt, guilt for having thought that he would have discarded it.

So, you took a step forward, and wrapped your arms around his middle.

He tensed in your embrace, and you could feel the ever so slight movement of his head to look back towards his knights. The look over his shoulder due to the public display of affection.

But he didn’t push away.

And you did let go, after a brief moment. You just needed him to know that he was important to you, and you appreciated the gesture he did for you.

Fuegoleon

Fuegoleon has asked you to find his calendar for him, so that me might go straight from the training session with his knights to the meeting at the castle.

And you happily obliged with the request. After all, you did want to help him with his duties and make his life easier, just like he did for you.

So, you entered his office, and begun looking for the calendar. It wasn’t on the desk, not on first glance at least, so it must’ve been in the desk drawer. Or that seemed like the most likely conclusion to make, which is why you made your way to his desk, circling onto the side of his chair.

Your hands moved to the drawers, but... as your gaze became directed down, you noticed your name on a piece of paper, which made your curiosity pique. After all, because your name was on it, it must’ve concerned you, right? So, it was alright if you looked at what it said on that piece of paper. Right?

You slid the paper along the surface of the desk closer to you, and started skimming it through. But... as you did, and your eyes landed on the line of “...will not be ordered on another mission” anger bubbled inside of you.

What did he mean you weren’t going to be assigned another mission?! Did he not think that you could handle it?!

You clenched the paper in your hand and stormed out of the room with one intention, and one intention only: to find your husband and demand an explanation.

Luckily, you knew exactly where to find him, so you made your way to the training grounds, and locked eyes on him as soon as you were outside.

You walked up to him, as his knights slowly, while trying not to seem like they were looking, looked at you. After all, perhaps there was a need to pause the training, because the captain was overseeing it, after all.

“Fuegoleon. Alexander. Vermillion,” you spoke in a calm manner, but enunciated every name, every syllable, while looking straight in the eye.

You could see his eyes flicker, but he continued to look at you. “Yes?” There was hesitance in his tone, as if puzzled what was the cause of all this.

“What did you do?” You asked, with an equally cold tone as before.

“I... really couldn’t tell you,” he replied with a frown and an uncertain, confused tone as he continued to look at you.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a quirked eyebrow.

“Could we perhaps go to the side to discuss this through?” He suggested, to which you agreed with a nod. There wasn’t, really, a reason to make this into a public spectacle after all, and, he did deserve a chance to explain. He was a reasonable man. After all. It seemed. You had supposed him to be one.

But even before you had stopped on your way to the sidelines, you looked at him while holding that paper forward.

“What does this mean?!” You demanded to know. “Do you not trust me on missions? Is that why you wouldn’t assign me on one anymore?”

He blinked. Looked at the paper. And then back to you.

Then his lips became laced with... hints of amusement, and an apology. “My love... you’re more than welcome to partake on missions in the future. The formulation of ‘will not be ordered’ is simply a technicality to give you more freedom of choosing your missions,” he explained. “Of course the difficulty level of your missions would be expected to only grow, but this is more to give you, on paper, a say as to which mission you will embark on, if there are multiple ones of similar difficulty level active simultaneously.” He pointed to another line on the bottom of the page. “See?” There was another apology in his tone.

“Oh.” You uttered, looking at the line.

“But I do apologise,” he continued. “I should have discussed it with you, instead of having you find out this way.”

“You should,” you said, while looking down to the side. “But... I also... shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions... I know you well enough,” you continued, because, it really would have been out of place for him to just make such a decision as to pull you away from missions entirely all on his own.

“Truce?” He asked, looking at you with a gentle gaze that bore all his affection and devotion to you.

“Truce,” you agreed while feeling warmth on your cheeks.

It had been a simple misunderstanding, and miscommunication. But. It wouldn’t come in between of the two of you.

William

William’s office had been so barren before you had entered his life. Which is why the first thing you got for him, was a plant into his office.

He was a little bit confused about it, but didn’t turn down the gift. And as you explained that it’d make the air in his office better, by producing more oxygen, and would add some life and colour in there, he nodded in understanding.

And he begun taking good care of it. Watered it regularly, changed its soil and gave it nutrients if there was a need. Which really warmed your heart, because ... in a weird way, it was like he was tending to your relationship through the plant.

However, one morning when you entered his office. The plant wasn’t there. Which you thought was odd. So, you looked around the office, and the bedroom, but... it didn’t seem to be... anywhere?

Your mind begun circling with all kinds of possibilities, until... it landed on the plant having died and him having thrown it away. And that made you feel hurt. Sad. Angry.

You had looked at him tend to the plant so carefully, and now he had just thrown it away? You would’ve helped him take care of it, if he had only asked, but instead he has just... disposed of it.

So... he would hear about it. Oh, he would most certainly hear about it.

You walked out of the room with a mission to find him, which is why you begun circling around the base. You looked at every, single, possible room in which you thought he could be, until you spotted him from the window while talking to his knights.

Your hand grasped onto the handle of the window, and you opened it with a swift motion.

“William Thaddeus Vangeance!” You yelled, making him look at you. “Don’t. Move. One. Inch! I need to have a word with you!”

And you closed the window before racing down and outside, where he was still standing, and his knights were... still there? This didn’t really concern them, and it looked like they intuitively realized it as you marched over to William.

“Where is the plant?” You asked, looking straight at him.

He frowned, and his eyes flickered to his knights, to whom he said as a side note: “You’re dismissed,” to which the knights nodded and begun walking away.

“Where is the plant?” You repeated.

He frowned again, as if to connect the dots.

And then it dawned on him.

“Oh, the plant is on the balcony to get a little bit more sunlight,” he replied with a baffled look.

You blinked.

And looked at him.

“It looked a little down so... I thought that some more sun would do it good?” He said, sounding a little but uncertain.

“So... you didn’t .. throw it away,” you uttered out loud, without really meaning to.

“No..?” He said with a questioning frown. “Why would I throw it away?”

“No reason,” you said while cupping his face.

And he continued to give you a baffled look as you placed a kiss onto his cheek.

He really was tending to it. The plant, and your relationship

[mumms-the-word]

A Final Death

Pairing: Gale x gn!Tav Summary: Gale has ascended and has returned to his chronically ill lover in order to ascend them, only to realize that they have died while he was exploring godhood. He departs for the Fugue Plane to find their soul and offer them divinity once more. ao3 link A/N: This is inspired by an angst ask I got in my inbox (hi anon!!) but it got so long that I decided to make it its own post. CW: death

Wait for me. Give me time. Soon, I will return with the means to ascend you, and you will never have to fear dying again.

Those were the last words he had said to Tav before leaving them. The sight of them on the docks watching him bow and back away was burned into his mind, even long after ascension. They were stunning in the light of the rising sun. As beautiful as they had ever been, and more.

And oh so fragile. Brittle. Broken. The condition they had maintained so carefully before being taken by the nautiloid had proven taxing, dangerous, even deadly on the road to Baldur’s Gate. True resurrection should have cured it, but it never did, no matter how many times they sought Withers’ help, resurrecting their broken, dead body with true resurrection spells.

A curse, Tav later told him. The nasty result of a hag deal gone bad. Since then, every injury healed wrong. 

The evidence of the curse was staggering. Broken bones that never fused together just right. Bruises that never seemed to fade. Cuts that always seemed only half-healed. A persistent cough that would go away only to be replaced by other pains, other illnesses. A perpetual state of pain, never ending, ever changing, managed only by a careful schedule of potions and healing spells and rest. Some days were worse than others. Some days they felt only the dim pains of a single bruise. But never, not even once, had they admitted to a single pain-free day.

But there was no promise of rest and healing on the road and no end to the fighting. Yet still, they pressed on. Still they fought. Still they endured. Until finally the Netherbrain crashed, defeated, into the Chionthar, and Gale had the means to end their suffering at last within reach. For the first time in months, they could rest.

He hoped the last few months had done them good. That they had found ways to heal and secured the rare, nearly-pain-free day as they waited for him. He had dedicated all of his time in the pursuit of ascension, and then after that, in testing the limits of his godhood. He had to know what he could do, what he was capable of, before he returned. He only had one chance to ascend them. He wanted it to be perfect.

As he materialized outside the Elfsong Tavern room, the one they sometimes shared when he and they longed for a night with just the two of them away from the others, the one his beloved had promised to be in while they waited for him, he wondered what kind of god they would become. Perhaps a god of healing, focusing their efforts on healing spells and potion crafting. Or perhaps they would hate that idea and surprise him. The god of knitting, they might suggest, the most mundane thing possible, or the god of puns, making use of that humor they used nearly every day to cope with the pain. He smiled to himself, remembering their many jokes, as he waved a hand for the door to open on its own.

He stepped inside, dimming his celestial light, only to find the room was quite dark without it. His smile faded as he gazed about the room.

Empty.

No, not empty, he realized, as a figure unfolded themselves from a chair in the far corner. The figure approached, slow and silent, the whisper of their ragged robes the only sound in the room.

“Jergal,” Gale said.

“Well met, young god,” Jergal said. His expression was that same old blank expression, his mouth just shy of a faint smile, and his eyes glimmered in the dark just as they had months ago, back when Gale had been mortal. “Thou come seeking that which is no longer here.”

“I can see that.” He could sense it, too. Though other souls slept, ate, and drank in other rooms beyond this, the only two entities present in that room were himself and the Final Scribe. “Where are they?”

“Gone.”

Gale tried to ignore the flicker of irritation kindling within him. “Yes. I’ve noticed. Gone where?”

“They are where they must be…until they goest where they must go.”

The irritation only grew. Jergal had always been vague, but that was when Gale had been mortal. Now, they ought to speak as gods do, one deity to another. The Final Scribe need not hide divine secrets from the God of Ambition, now that they were equals.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me,” Gale said, “then I shall simply have to find them myself.”

“Thou wilt search these planes for some time, I fear. They are not here. They are…beyond.”

“What do you…”

All at once the meaning came to him. Gone. Beyond. 

Dead.

“That…cannot be,” Gale said, refusing to believe it. But Jergal merely stared, silent. Waiting. Waiting for him to accept it.

Again he refused. He cast his senses wide, stretching out his mental presence far beyond the reaches of the Elfsong Tavern, over the whole of the city, and even further beyond, briefly touching hundreds of souls at a time, seeking, searching, hoping to brush against the soul that had once called to his own. The soul that had been his match. He would know it as soon as he found it, so familiar was it to him, though this was the first time he sought it out as a god.

But there was nothing. Though he felt the first embers of pride, the fanned flames of hungry ambition among dozens of souls, he couldn’t feel the one singular soul that he desired.

They were gone. And he knew, even if he searched the entire surface of Toril, that he wouldn’t find them. Not on this plane.

Tav was dead.

He struggled to find his voice “When?”

Jergal’s gaze softened briefly. “Nigh on forty days past.”

“That long?” he asked. “It can’t be, I was only gone for…” But even as he said it, he knew his estimation would be wrong. Jergal looked sympathetic.

“Time runneth differently when one is immortal,” he said. “As thou well know.”

Again Gale struggled to comprehend the news. Not because he misunderstood—he could see the truth as clear as crystal. Tav was dead, their soul having departed from the mortal plane days ago, and he had missed it. 

That was the part he couldn’t fully grasp. How had he missed the day, the very moment his own beloved had faded out of this life? Their brilliant life, bright as a star in the sky, snuffed so quickly—again. 

He should have felt it. It should have been, to him, the same sort of feeling as losing the light of a single candle’s flame in a vast darkness. Or perhaps a feeling like a chill, a dread, a pit in his stomach. He was divine. He could sense souls in a way he never could as a mortal. He should have felt Tav’s passing.

But he hadn’t. He couldn’t even recall what had been the focus of his attention forty days ago. A single day was like a breath to him. There and gone in a flash. One didn’t count every breath they took in an hour, much less in a day or a week. Had so much—so little time passed without him noticing?

He set aside those concerns for now. “I see,” he said quietly. “That is unfortunate. But it is time to bring them back now, if you would. That is why you’re here, is it not? To resurrect them?”

“No.”

Gale frowned. “No? I don’t understand.”

Jergal was quiet a moment. By the time Gale was certain he would simply refuse to elaborate, he closed his eyes briefly and then reopened them.

“I came to them in their final hour,” he said. “To offer them my services. They greeted me as a friend.”

He paused. Then he lifted a hand to his head and touched his temple. As he drew his hand away, a small orb of light followed after his fingers. A memory, Gale realized, as Jergal sent it floating toward him. Gale cradled it in his hands, letting it sink into his silvered skin, and immediately his vision was flooded with the memory.

He saw Jergal approach the bed in the room, sitting down in a chair at the bedside. For a moment, Gale almost didn’t recognize the figure on the mattress, lying beneath the folded sheets, but as he drew closer there was no denying who it was.

Tav.

He had never seen them look so frail. The months since their victory had wasted them away until they were left looking more dead than alive. Their skin was as thin as paper, their usual tones now cast over with a gray pallor. Dozens of bruises bloomed on their skin, all in varying stages of healing or freshness, and their lips were colorless, their hair thin. He could see their bones sticking out, their skin stretched over them, as though half their muscle and fat had dissolved away. They had the look of a corpse about them, even as they opened their sunken eyes and turned their head toward Jergal. 

He wanted to think them beautiful—this was his beloved—but he could only stand, vaguely horrified at the sight of mortality at its worst. There was very little beauty here, only wretchedness. He hated the sight. Not Tav—never Tav—but all the evidence of what the illness had done, the pain, the injuries.

Why had Tav not sought healing?

The sight didn’t seem to alarm Jergal as he sat at their bedside. “I heard thy call,” he said quietly. “What dost thou require?”

Tav turned their eyes toward Jergal and reached one weakened hand toward them, a faint smile on their lips. “Maybe I just wanted to see an old friend one last time.”

“Thou art dying.” It wasn’t a question.

“I know.”

“Then dost thou require my resurrection services?”

“No.”

Gale jolted. No? No?

“He isn’t coming, is he?” Tav whispered, their hand still outstretched toward Jergal, lying inert on the sheets. 

“Thou speakest of thy wizard. Thy newborn god.”

Tav’s lips twisted. “He’s not my god.”

Gale stared, his fists clenched at his sides. Shock and pain and anger swirled within him, tangling together in a complicated knot that was all too familiar, all so dreadfully mortal, that he couldn’t help but hate it.

“He’s forgotten me, I think,” Tav whispered.

The knot in his chest stopped swirling all of a sudden, frozen and cold. Forgotten…forgotten? 

He wanted to rage. To tear this memory to shreds. To claw his way back in time and make Tav see the truth. Forgotten? Never.

But even he couldn’t alter the fabric of time.

You’re wrong, he wanted to scream. You’re wrong. I’m here. I’m here!

But it was just a memory.

Jergal said nothing at first to their remark, but at last he spoke. “Thou knowest I can give thee more time. Is that why thou hadst called?”

“No.” They breathed in shakily and Gale could hear the rattle of their breath as their lungs struggled to take in the air. “No. I just…didn’t want to be alone. When I died. For the last time.”

The last time.

The words echoed in his head, but he couldn’t stop the memory from playing out.

Jergal nodded slowly. “I see. And so thou didst call me.”

“Yeah. I decided…who better to watch me go than the Final Scribe?”

Jergal chuckled softly. “Ah. Thou hadst found it out.”

Tav’s smile was crooked, a ghost of their old humor. “I followed the clues. You made it kind of obvious.” They moved their hand closer again to Jergal’s. “Will you stay with me?”

“Is this truly what thou wishest? To die, and not return? If I recall, thy wizard hath promised thee eternity.”

Tav swallowed once, twice, silent. When they blinked, the glimmer of tears appeared in their eyes and then was blinked away. “I…don’t think I can wait for that chance, old friend. He’s been gone for months. Silent for months. What if he has forgotten me? And even if he hasn’t, this body…all the pain that just keeps building, I…” 

They swallowed again, and this time the tears leaked from their eyes, dripping down the sides of their face. They took another shaky breath, and then couldn’t speak the words. Another rattling breath, and then a faint whisper, choked with tears.

“I don’t think I could start over and endure all this again. I don’t think I’m strong enough to wait for him.”

The words nearly drove Gale to his knees. He had been so close. Only days, mere days separated this memory from his reality. Tav couldn’t endure for a few more days, after yet another resurrection brought them back to life? They couldn't have endured one more cycle of death and rebirth, for him?

Why couldn’t they have waited?

For the first time, he began to understand the pain they kept hidden from him. Even as he understood, at the time, comparing the pain of the orb to Tav’s experience, even as they had bonded over a mutual knowledge of what it meant to be in pain every single day…he’d never realized the depth of their pain.

That it would be so bad that they would wish for death, even when promised eternity.

I don’t think I’m strong enough…

“Oh, my love,” he whispered. “If only you could have endured it, I…”

But the memory didn’t wait.

“It’s stupid,” Tav said, swallowing and finding a bit of strength to speak above a whisper. “I’ve died so many times since the nautiloid. I used to hate it. But I realized a while ago that…waiting there in the Fugue Plane…it was the only place I was free of this pain.”

“Thou were free of thy physical body in death,” Jergal said. “And where the soul doth go, physical pain doth not follow.”

“Exactly. You understand.” Tav took a deep breath, this one less difficult. “I think that’s why I’ve decided…the next time I die…I want to stay there.”

Jergal offered no opinion, he merely tilted his head and watched Tav, his glimmering eyes unblinking.

“So?” they asked. Again they inched their hand closer to Jergal. “Will you stay with me until I go? I know my soul is in safe hands with you.”

“Yes,” Jergal said, and at last he reached out to take Tav’s hand, his withered fingers curling around theirs. “I shall guide thy passing, as in days of old.”

Tav smiled again, their relief relaxing their entire body. “Thank you,” they whispered.

The memory faded as they closed their eyes, the moment of Tav’s passing obscured from Gale’s vision. He tried to cling to the memory, to see the moment of their final breath, but it was gone. Jergal had kept it from him.

He felt…empty. Hollow. For one, terrifying moment he wondered what all this divinity was for. If not to share with his lover, then…what?

But a spark kindled within him again. Was he not the god of ambition? Was he not the god of taking risks for the highest rewards? What was death to a god like him?

“You know where they are,” he said, turning once more to Jergal. “Take me to them. To wherever their soul resides.”

“Thou knowest as well as I that it would be of no use,” Jergal said. “Thy beloved’s soul is beyond thy reach, now. They hath made their decision.”

Gale could feel his anger rising, as it always did these days when someone dared to suggest what he could or couldn’t do. Anything was possible, given enough time and enough power—that was his creed as the god of ambition. 

“Fine,” he said, keeping his voice carefully controlled. “Then I will seek them out myself.”

“Go, if thou pleaseth,” Jergal said, watching him turn away. “Perhaps it is best thou see them for thyself. But I will not aid thy search.”

“No matter. I will find them. Even if it takes me aeons.”

So saying, he left the material world, casting his essence through the planes, heading for that ever-shifting realm of the dead.

———

He materialized at last in the Fugue Plane, obscuring his presence and divinity in a fog that matched all the rest as he moved through the vastness of the gray plains, seeking, searching, looking for Tav. He scarcely knew what he would say to them, other than all the questions he wanted answers to. But he had to see them.

Why couldn’t you endure? Why did you think I had forgotten? Why did you stop believing in me? Why didn’t you wait?

Anger and despair fought for dominance in his mind, anger at Tav, anger at himself, despair at losing Tav, despair at his own follies. But something in his divinity kept him from ever really taking the blame. He was a god, after all. He knew better than mortals. It was Tav’s mortal reckoning that was the problem. Their mortal frailty. Their mortal inability to see the scope of eternity beyond their brief lifetime of pain. Perhaps if he had given them more glimpses of divinity, to show them what they had to look forward to…

His train of thought halted as he finally found them standing among the gray. Tav. His love.

They looked as they had in life, when they were at their very best. Healthy, standing straight, their hair full and thick, their skin clean and without blemish. They were stunning. Beautiful.

But gray. All over gray, in the same shades as every other wandering spirit here. Colorless and without vibrancy.

Yet...more solid than the wandering souls around them. Gale paused, remaining in the fog, watching. They stood on the plains, looking around, but not with the dull, aimless look of a soul shambling directionless in this plane. No, they appeared alert and confident, as if they knew themself, as if they had purpose.

After a moment, they seemed to find what they were looking for. They walked over to another soul that was sitting on the ground. The soul’s gaze was lifeless, dim, just the same as every other soul around them. This soul was a shade of their former self, their memories and life already slipping from their grasp. Tav softly called their name and held out their hand.

Kelemvor has sent me, they said, offering the soul a kind smile as the soul looked up slowly at them. I can take you to the City.

…Kelemvor?

Suddenly Gale understood.

Thy beloved’s soul is beyond thy reach.

So that’s what he meant. 

Gale had come with two, perhaps three ambitious plans in mind. If he couldn’t convince Tav to be resurrected and then ascended, he had planned to ask them to be resurrected and then become his Chosen. If Tav didn’t agree to either, then Gale was prepared to ask them to join his domain in death. One way or another, he thought, they would be together. As gods, as a god and a Chosen, or as a god and a faithful soul. Together forever.

His divine mind hadn’t conceived of a fourth option. He hadn’t anticipated what was now clearly Tav's new reality, irrevocable and unchangeable. Yet it stood before him, the evidence as obvious as day.

Kelemvor had claimed Tav’s soul before he could. Tav was beyond his control.

Though his anger flared up briefly in response—how dare Kelemvor claim his beloved before Gale had even had a chance to speak with them?—his anger soon cooled as he watched Tav take the hopeless soul by the hand and help them to stand.

Come with me, they said to the soul. I can guide you safely to the city.

Tav had been chosen as one of Kelemvor’s spirit guides, to help guide souls to the City of Judgment, or perhaps even to other gods’ domains, if Kelemvor’s judgment were so inclined to send them there. As Gale watched the two of them disappear into the fog, Tav leading the other soul gently by the hand, all his questions, all his anger, all his despair melted away,

He was left feeling hollow.

His ambitious plan had been thwarted, long before he’d even had a chance to enact it. The defeat should have stung, but instead he felt numb to it.

All that time spent exploring his godhood in order to ascend Tav, wasted. Yes, he had to admit, despite the humility churning his gut with discomfort, he had been too enamored with learning the limits of his power. But he hadn’t been gone long.

They chose this over him…?

He hovered in those gray, shifting plains, a cloud of fog amidst more fog, as he contemplated the matter to himself. Ran a thousand useless scenarios in his mind for how this could have gone differently. Tried to tease out new paths forward, only to be blocked at every turn by the rules of divinity and souls. He didn’t notice how much time had passed, until movement drew his gaze back to his surroundings.

Tav had returned. Only this time, it was clear they weren’t looking for a particular soul. They looked around them slowly before saying, out loud, “I know you’re there. You can come out now.”

They wouldn’t say such things to a soul they had been sent to guide. Which meant only one thing.

They were looking for him.

He hesitated at first but then decided that no more harm could be done. Not to them, anyway. And how much worse could his divine heart break, really?

He dropped his cloak of fog, settling down to stand just a few feet away from them. As soon as he materialized, their eyes were on him. Not shocked or surprised. As if they had been expecting him.

There was, however, a faint hint of nervousness in their face.

They locked eyes in that gray space, the fog swirling around them. A silver-toned deity, glowing with electric blue divinity, and a grayscale spirit guide, their eyes burning with silver light. They watched him silently for a moment, waiting.

Gale opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg, to argue, to weep, but not a sound issued forth. What was there to say? They were out of his reach now. Separated from him for an eternity.

In the end they spoke first.

“Kelemvor said you were looking for me,” they said, in his silence. “I suppose you have questions.”

He had so many questions. But has he watched them stand before him, looking more alert, more confident, more vibrant with energy and vitality than they had been in life, even on their best mortal days, his questions all died on his tongue. All save one.

“Are you…content?”

The question surprised them, he could see it in their face. They nodded. “I am. You’ve probably already guessed what I am, then?”

“One of Kelemvor’s spirit guides. To lead the lost souls wandering this plane to the City of Judgment to await Kelemvor’s judgment of them.”

“Yes.” They hesitated. He could sense the words on their tongue that they wanted to say but were uncertain about. He saw them swallow the words back.

“I have a purpose here,” they said, instead. “There are so many I can help. So many places to travel in this line of work. Sometimes, when Kelemvor decides someone fits a different god’s domain, I even get to visit it with them as I take them there. I’m still trying to figure my way about, but…”

They trailed off, again uncertain. Gale could only smile.

“It suits you,” he said softly.

And it did. In life, they had longed to travel, to see new sights and meet new people. And then when forced to travel, it had brought them nothing but pain. Yet even so they had pushed through, seeking to help everyone they could, even as they themself were hurting, broken by battle and their curse.

He still felt there were better alternatives—could he not have made them a god of new things, of rebirth, of travel, of care for the downtrodden, or more? But they had chosen this instead.

He should have expected nothing less and nothing more.

“Thank you,” they said. Again they hesitated, until finally, in a burst of words, “Gale, I’m sorry. I know you said—”

But Gale held up a hand, stopping them. “No. No need to apologize. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

They frowned. “And yet you must think me the ultimate fool for giving up your offer of godhood for an eternity of playing messenger and guide.”

“What I think doesn’t matter,” he said. “But…no. I could never think you a fool. You simply…chose the path you felt was best for you.”

And now there was no turning back. 

They both lapsed into thoughtful silence at that, each of them watching the other. He could feel them studying him, taking in the new glimpses of his divine presence, the silvered skin, the lightning crackling at his temples, the white-blue glowing eyes. Here in the Fugue Plane, the two of them didn’t look that dissimilar, with all the grays and silvers that coated Tav’s body now as well. 

He still loved them, he realized. And he would always, he felt, love them. But that love had shifted. He was the god of ambition now, and they were a spirit guide of Kelemvor. Separated in death, yet still part of the same godly realms.

“Gale,” Tav said uncertainly. “I know you’re a new god, and there’s no one, that I know of, who is worshipping you who has died just yet. But when they do…perhaps Kelemvor will be kind enough to let me guide those souls to your domain. Maybe then we could…see each other. Once in a while. From a distance.”

Gale smiled at that. He could just picture Tav arriving at the edge of his domain, leading an ambitious soul to him. “A visit every now and again? I’d like that.”

“It won’t be every time, mind you,” Tav said. “There are a lot of guides. And you’re responsible for picking up your own faithful.”

Gale chuckled. “I am aware.”

“But other souls…ambitious souls who didn’t know you but that might fit your domain…well.” They offered him a little smile. “I’m just saying maybe this isn’t goodbye. It’s just…until we see each other again.”

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Gale would never forget the chance he missed with them, to have them reign as a god at his side. But the hope shining in Tav’s silver-toned eyes was impossible to ignore or destroy. If they were content with this lot, perhaps, in time, he could be too.

“Very well,” he said. “I look forward to your first visit to my domain, then.” He gave them a little bow, a return to some of his mortal mannerisms.

Tav nodded, their smile faint, but as full of love as they had been in life. “Until we see each other again, Gale.”

He returned their smile and gentled his voice, bringing with it all the tenderness and love he still felt for them, and may yet feel for them for an eternity.

“Until then, my love. I will be waiting.”

[solarsa1nt]

𐚁֙࿐ HANAHAKI

ryōmen sukuna & itadori yuuji x fem!reader

Tags — fluff , happy ending , dubcon kissing? reader is fine with it though , implied sexual content at the end

Notes — fun fact: red carnations symbolize deep love and affection, while a pale red carnation represents admiration and the words, “my heart aches for you”. it is said that the deep red petals of the red carnation represent a beating heart that is filled with love too! i figured that this flower suits sukuna pretty well because of episode 5

It started off unsuspectingly; really, the change being unnoticeable to most and so minor it didn't make her so much as blink.

Only when a red petal fell from his lips, did it make Y/N pause.

"Was that... a flower petal?" Y/N asks, staring at the flower incredulously.

Y/N leans forward, picking it up off the library table as she looks at it curiously, inspecting it.

Huh? A carnation? Y/N wonders, gaze lingering on the flower for a moment longer before looking at her boyfriend.

Yuuji puts a hand against his throat, staring at the flower in blatant confusion.

"Uh... yes?" Yuuji answers, although it sounded more like a question.

"Were you eating flowers?" Y/N raises an eyebrow at her boyfriend. "I know you have a habit of eating weird things, but—"

"Y/N!" Yuuji cuts her off, face flushing in embarrassment. "I thought you agreed to stop teasing me about that..."

"Sorry, Yuuji." Y/N raises a hand to pet her boyfriend's head but her tone was completely unapologetic as she beams at him. "You're just too cute!"

At the action, Yuuji suddenly starts to cough again, Y/N blinking in surprise as she reels back, watching another petal fall from her boyfriend's mouth.

"Huh." A small frown tugs on Y/N's lips, rubbing her boyfriend's back as the coughing slows.

"So you didn't eat it, then?" Y/N frowns thoughtfully, a distant look in her eyes as her boyfriend glances at her curiously.

"Do you know what it is?" Yuuji asks, recognizing the look in Y/N's eyes.

"Mh... maybe?" Y/N hesitates before turning forward again and opening a new tab on her computer.

"It sounds familiar but..." Y/N trails off as she starts to type something, Yuuji peering over her shoulder.

Hitting the enter key, the page loads, results instantly showing up as Y/N perks up.

"Hanahaki?" Yuuji reads, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

"But it says one-sided love," Yuuji adds, pointing towards the part on the screen that sayid that.

"Uh... it's a fluke, maybe?" Y/N offers helplessly, earning a deadpan from her boyfriend.

"Yeah, yeah..." Y/N huffs, knowing the idea is stupid.

Y/N opens the page, scrolling through it before ultimately coming to a simple conclusion: there's no explanation for it.

"Maybe we could go to Shoko-san?" Y/N suggests, looking over the page once more before shutting her computer.

"Sure, don't see why not."

━━━━

Shoko levels the two with a mildly surprised look, leaning back against a metal table as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"Hanahaki? It's not that common, but the curse appears in students every so often." Shoko admits, looking Yuuji almost as if she were taking him apart piece by piece, trying to understand something.

"Really? Really? Do you know what's happening with Yuuji then?" Y/N asks, looking eagerly at Shoko.

Shoko hums noncommittally, closing her eyes as a beat of silence passes them before she opens them again, tried brown eyes boring into the two.

"I have a theory." Shoko allows, her stare unbreaking as she scrutinizes Yuuji.

"It could be Sukuna." Shoko suggests as Y/N blinks in surprise, Yuuji frowning in confusion, about to say something— likely refute it due to Sukuna never saying anything genuinely positive about anyone, ever —when Shoko continues. "Since he doesn't have a body of his own, the curse would manifest in Yuuji."

"So... Sukuna's in love with someone?" Y/N asks, turning towards Yuuji.

"I mean, he's been weirdly silent throughout all of this..." Yuuji says slowly, as if he had only just noticed that detail.

"Ooo! I wanna know! I wanna know!" Y/N darts forward, nearly pouncing on her boyfriend as she pokes the outlines of Sukuna's second set of eyes.

"Who is it? Who is it?" Y/N was nearly vibrating where she stood, subconsciously repeating her words in an act of excitement. "Sukuna! Su-ku-naaaa! 'Kuna? 'Kuna!"

"Will you shut up, woman?" The curse finally makes an appearance, red eyes peering open as a mouth splits into a snarl on Yuuji's cheek.

"'Kuna!" Y/N beams, not so much as flinching at Sukuna's sharp glare. "Tell me! I wanna know!"

"C'mooon, who is it that's captured the heart of the king of curses?" Y/N snickers to herself as her gaze remains on Sukuna.

Meanwhile, Shoko raises an eyebrow as she watches the two interact.

It was an odd sight, a sorcerer excitedly asking the king of curses— Ryomen Sukuna —who he's in love with.

Sukuna spits out another insult towards Y/N, who only laughs in reply.

Shoko watches as something overwhelmingly fond flickers in the pair of red eyes, the feeling only caught by the doctor as Shoko sighs deeply.

She doesn’t get paid enough for this.

━━━━

Y/N peers up at Yuuji's unconscious face, her arms looped around his waist as she lays atop him, his arms wrapped loosely around her back.

"Su-ku-naaa..." Y/N calls quietly, poking Yuuji's cheek lightly, knowing that's where Sukuna often made his appearance on Yuuji's body.

"Hey... wake up. Do curses even need to sleep?" Y/N wonders, "I bet you do. You're, what, a thousand years old? Pft, old timer—"

Before Y/N could even process it, her and Yuuji's positioned were flipped, E/C eyes widening as they meet narrowed red ones.

"Uh..." Y/N murmurs helplessly, the hands that had been loosely hanging around her back now curling around her waist almost possessiv— no, Y/N didn't want to humor that thought...

Yuuji's (well, now Sukuna's) face had turned into one of pure frustration, all four eyes narrowed as he grits his teeth. Accompanying his expression, the hands on her waist were tightening painfully, no doubt leaving marks with the sharp nails.

"Th-This is new..." Y/N admits with a nervous laugh, trying to glance off to the side only for a hand to roughly grab her chin.

Nails dig into the side of her face as she was forced to meet the king of curses gaze.

"You want to know, Y/N?" Sukuna hisses out through gritted teeth, momentarily surprising the girl at the use of her first name.

'Y/N'? This is the first time he's called her by her first name.

That's the last coherent thought to pass through her mind before a pair of lips were roughly slammed onto hers.

Y/N yelps in surprise, eyes widening as she feels Sukuna, the bastard, grin against her mouth before a tongue was mercilessly shoved down her throat.

A unwilling moan rises out of her throat from the sensation as her face burns in humiliation.

Y/N yanks on his hair roughly, Sukuna eventually relenting as he leans away panting, the smug grin on his face remaining unchanging.

"W-Was that necessary...?" Y/N stammers, feeling lightheaded as she wipes a string of saliva from her abused mouth.

"Got the point across." Sukuna responds, taking in the sight of the debauched girl underneath him.

"Hmp. Great to know the king of curses is a pervert..." Y/N sighs before yelping as she was unceremoniously pushed further against the bed, a pair of lips smashing against hers.

Ah, this was going to be a long night for her, wasn't it?

© 𝓢OLARSAINT 2024 ─── all of my works belong me alone! do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or spread any of my works in any other social media platform. these have only been reloaded on my own accounts on ao3 and wattpad

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #15

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

"Coffee?" Is the first thing you hear when you finally find the courage to peek out from Jungkook's bedroom.

No lie, you were a little bit worried when you woke up and he wasn't next to you. It didn't ease any of your nerves of what this morning will look like. However, you're pleasantly surprised when you see Jungkook completely energized, staring at you with a joyful glint in his eyes. You almost forgot how much he likes mornings.

Thinking about his question, you're not the one who craves coffee as the first thing in the morning but considering your current state of a mere tiredness, you might need it.

"Sure, sounds good." you answer, watching him as he turns around and quickly goes to pour you some into one of his black cups.

It's not like you slept badly, Jungkook really did his number on you, so you were out as soon as you took a shower and laid down into his fresh sheets. But your dreams kept being weird, mostly including your best friend and his ex while you were in the middle of it.

He sends you a glance, staring as you carefully sit down on one of the stools and you notice the same cocky smirk you saw yesterday like dozens of times. Showing him your middle finger, he throws his head back laughing at your reaction but doesn't tease you about it. Maybe it's the fact he's seeing your confused slash tired state.

Taking notice of his naked back, obviously shirtless because this man has no mercy on you, and black sport shorts, you stare at him.

"What were you doing?" you ask him, seeing the ends of his hair wet while a familiar scent of his shower gel reaches your nose, mixed with coffee smell.

"I was doing a quick morning workout and then I had to take a shower. Did I wake you up?" he turns around, placing a cup of coffee in front of you as a quiet 'thanks' resounds from you.

Ah, that would explain the dumbbells on the floor in his living room.

"No," you shake your head, not even remembering if you've heard the water running. When you woke up, everything was silent and there was only a little bit of rustling when you finally stepped out of the bedroom. "I can't believe you work out in the mornings."

"Well, it's just a light one. I'll probably go to the gym in the evening." he shrugs, causing you to shake your head with a soft grin.

"I couldn't do any of that. Not in the mornings for sure." you admit.

Jungkook has always been very active and kept himself busy most of the times. The guy loves playing games since he was a teenager, but still chooses to work out or work on some photos instead, well most of the time. And you're a complete opposite of that. It's not like you're lazy, but you like to rest and take breaks between a busy schedule and work.

"That's the difference between you and me, baby." he beams, cockily arching a brow at you as you snort.

To say you're very pleased by this morning is an understatement, considering all the irritating thoughts you had during the night. It's nice to know there hasn't changed anything between you two and you can still joke around with each other, even if the jokes are different this time. Less friendly and more sexual, not that you mind it. At least your hormones are taken care of.

"I gotta ask though. Have I crossed any lines yesterday?" he asks, his expression changing to less cocky and amused to a serious and worried one.

Frowning, you shake your head. "Of course not. Last night was perfect." you remind him, causing him to slowly nod but he still doesn't look convinced.

Just as you're about to question the look on his face, because it certainly seems like he wants to say something else, he beats you to it.

"I'm glad you think that," he smiles, but it's long gone before he closes his eyes for a brief moment, encouraging himself to voice out his thoughts.

It's interesting to see him finding it hard to speak up, since he's usually the one who has to say something. And for some reason that makes you nervous, or what he's about to say to be precise. Naturally, you're trying to mask it by taking a sip from the coffee he poured you.

"But I was talking about me calling you a slut."

Just as soon as you hear that one word, the coffee gets stuck in your throat and you almost choke on it. Luckily, the liquid comes down your throat and you're left coughing through it.

"Fuck," you curse, glancing at Jungkook who stares at you with wide eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently, a complete opposite of the Jungkook he showed you last night. It's hard to believe it's the same person. Because the man standing in front of you, staring with a worry in his big eyes is your best friend. The one you've known for years and it makes you realize that it really is like almost nothing changed. Except he fucked you last night, but it doesn't even feel like it right now.

"Yeah, sorry. I just wasn't expecting that," you admit, giving him a light smile when he doesn't seem to be convinced. "To be honest, I liked it. I wasn't offended or anything, if you're thinking about that. I've never thought I'd be that person who likes such things, but it felt right at that moment." you explain yourself, noticing how his shoulders relax.

"Okay, that's good. I just had to check with you."

That's right. It was just a few days ago when you were thinking about the whole BDSM stuff and degrading kink. You're not sure if you like it, but Jungkook didn't get too far with it. Rather than dwell onto it some more, you're more curious.

"Thanks for checking with me," you smile, seeing him do the same in return. "Is that like, your thing?"

"What? Calling someone slut?" he chuckles.

"Well, yes. Is it like something you did with Kiko?"

It's a very sensitive topic to talk about her, maybe not in general but definitely if it involves their sex life. You were never curious about that, there never was a reason to be but now that you've seen a whole new side of him, you just can't help but be curious about it.

Judging by his reaction, which is a mere shock that disappears in seconds, considering you just brought up Kiko all of a sudden, he didn't expect you to talk about her. Especially not asking something like that.

"No," he answers, poking the inside of his cheek. He looks hot, turning his head to the side for a few seconds, giving you a perfect glimpse of his sharp jawline. "I've never done that. I don't know what came over me, maybe it was those drinks we drank yesterday." he says, trying to joke which causes you to chuckle.

"Well, I was just curious. It's nothing deep. I'm sorry if me bringing her up affected you." you apologize, taking another sip of the coffee before you stand up and walk up to him.

He watches you, the corner of his mouth twitching before he smiles down at you. The scent of his shower gel is much stronger now and fuck, you hate that it's one of your weaknesses. Plus, he always smells good even when he's not wearing any cologne.

"No, it's fine. I know how curious you can get," he teases you, poking you in a rib causing you to push onto his shoulder but he barely budges. "But really, it's okay for you to ask. I know it's not something we've talked about often before, our sex life I mean... but now that, you know, we got intimate I think it's understandable to be curious about those things. We need to get to know what the other likes and dislikes."

Well, his words definitely make you relax more than you expected them to. And you're glad he wasn't offended or affected by you mentioning Kiko and his sex life. After all, he's still trying to win her back and he's heartbroken about their breakup.

"Are you hungry?" he asks you, playfully nudging you to your shoulder causing you to stumble from the sudden impact.

"No, I'm not really hungry." you shrug, knowing it'll take you at least half an hour to feel hunger.

What you don't expect is for Jungkook to suddenly grab you by your thighs, picking you up with so much ease, like you weigh nothing.

"Jungkook!" you exclaim, clutching onto his broad shoulders while he sets you on the kitchen counter. "What the hell are you doing?" you laugh, slapping his naked chest.

It's quite a tricky situation because his chest feels too nice, wanting you to touch it some more and feel his muscles but you quickly retract your hand away.

But he drops to his knees causing your mouth to drop, your eyes bulging out as he laughs at your expression.

"I'm about to have my breakfast." he tells you, reaching for the black boxers that you're wearing, the ones he borrowed you since you had nothing to sleep in.

"You're disgusting." you say, although you don't sound disgusted at all.

Even he can tell, arching a brow at you when you don't protest as he pulls down the boxers, exposing your heat.

"Am I?" he questions, not really wanting to hear your answer. But that's okay, you're speechless anyway. "Now spread those pretty legs for me."

And you do, feeling his mouth enveloping your still throbbing lower lips from last night. The slurping sound of his mouth and your juices are the only thing you can focus on.

Maybe this morning isn't that bad.

"...and then, I was like 'no way, you can't say that to your parents' but honestly, god, I wanted him to say it. They can't push us into giving them a grandchild when it hasn't even been a year since our wedding!"

Silently sipping the herbal tea you've made for yourself, you listen to Ava venturing about her weekend. You've known her ever since you started to work in the company which is about two years now. In times like these, you admire how vocal she is about her personal life in front of everyone. Well, maybe there isn't everyone but there are at least five more people in the circle who listen to her.

There is a round of understandable hums that your colleagues give her, and you don't react in any particular way. Busying yourself by slowly sipping the tea sounds much better, although it doesn't last for too long when your phone starts to vibrate in the pocket of your slacks. Jungkook's name flashes on the screen of your phone and you silently excuse yourself, but no one barely pays you any attention, too nosy about Ava's weekend and family drama.

"Jeon," you speak up as soon as you accept the call, hearing him chuckle on the other line.

"Hello my bestest best friend." he beams, causing you to snort in response.

Okay, he definitely wants something from you.

"What do you want?" Your knowing tone doesn't go unnoticed by him and you hear him laugh.

"Ouch, can't I just call you to see how your day's going?"

"You never call me in the middle of the day." you point out, chuckling at the end to make sure you don't sound too snappy.

"Are you free to talk?" he asks, ignoring your point as you sigh.

"It's my break time." you answer, wondering what this call is about.

"Well, I completely forgot to tell you that Jimin talked to me at the wedding and he mentioned something about a camping trip. I completely forgot about it but he just called me and wanted to check in if we wanna go." he explains.

Camping trip sounds nice. You definitely need to get out of the city and spending some time in nature just seems to be a good idea.

"I'm in," you tell him, hearing him exclaiming a small 'yes!' of excitement that makes you smile. "Who else is going?"

"Well, Jimin and Taehyung for sure. I think they asked Hoseok as well, so he might be coming as well and I think he's bringing a few friends of his."

"Oh, so more people are going, right?" you check in.

It's not like you mind it. To be completely honest, the mention of Hoseok did settle a weird feeling inside of you but it's gone as soon as it appeared. You can't be looking over your shoulder forever and he apologized, so he shouldn't be in any trouble anymore.

"I think so. I'm not sure yet though," he mumbles, "But I'll probably take my car since Jimin's smaller and I think Hoseok is taking his. We all should fit in two cars."

"Okay, when are we supposed to go?"

"This Friday."

This would be the second Friday that you don't get to spend fully home, but you're not mad about it. Your work has been kicking your ass lately and you being home alone doesn't help that much. Not even when you constantly text with Jungkook.

"Okay," you agree, feeling a rush of excitement.

It's been a long time since you went camping. The last time you experienced that amazing smell of nature and quiet place was when you were about ten. Your uncle used to bring you and your cousin to the nearby lake where he went fishing and you both helped. It's a very precious memory from your childhood.

"Jungkook?" you ask, hearing him hum in response. "Is Kiko going?"

Is he asking you to come because she might be there? He mentioned something about Jimin wanting to go camping and surely, he wants you there as well. You just can't help but think this is all just a part of your deal, even though there's a huge part of you screaming at you for even doubting Jungkook.

"I'm not sure, I didn't ask Jimin," he answers, causing you to feel guilty for doubting him. "Will there be a problem if she's going?"

It's a simple question, yet it makes your heart shiver with an uncomfortable feeling. He doesn't sound angry, surprised or anything similar. He actually sounds neutral and genuinely curious.

"No, no, of course not. I was just curious. We've to pretend in front of everyone anyway." you tell him quietly, making sure none of your colleagues can hear you.

It's not like they know Jungkook or you to the point they could reveal your little secret. It's not that, but you still like to think it's better if no one knows.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out all of a sudden, surprising you. "You probably want to enjoy this trip but you can't when we'll have to pretend."

You almost pout at his words, causing you to feel like a douchebag for even saying anything in the first place. "No, Kook. That's not what I meant. It's fine."

"You sure?" He sounds doubtful.

"Sure, it was just a loud and innocent thought. I didn't mean it like that." you assure him before you hear him let out a sigh.

"We're gonna have a great time. Promise." he assures you this time, your lips stretching to a wide smile.

"I know we will."

And the smile stays on your lips for the rest of the day. No matter how this trip will end up, you know you're going to have a great time with Jungkook. You can't remember the last time you went on a trip with him and whenever it comes to Jungkook, there is always fun and great memories to come.

[ylangelegy]

lvr ♾️ minghao x reader.

“take me out, and take me home. you're my, my, my lover.” # day seven of (the)8 days of minghao.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ headcanons of minghao as your boyfriend.

❥ falling in love. minghao's feelings remind you of a flower blooming. it's a slow, gradual thing. he's not immune to physical attraction, but love for him is something much deeper. he knows better than to take things solely on the surface level. love would only be possible for him with time, with both the sunshine and the rain. when it comes, he's not surprised. he will know that his feelings for you have been blossoming, have been growing, and he is never one to deny himself of pure and simple truths.

❥ confessing. minghao has never been a man of overtly grand gestures. some might see this as a con, but there's also appeal in the way he makes sure things are always clear and uncomplicated. his confession may come in the form of an afternoon in a café, over the pastries he knows you like best— or an evening under the stars, while you two are seated side by side on a park bench. he tells you as it is. i like you. no i think, no maybe. "you don't have to respond or even reciprocate," he will tell you, and he means it. "i just wanted to let you know."

❥ pet names. a part of minghao withers at the like of 'babe' and 'baby'. he's more comfortable with 'darling', if any, because there's a dozen ways he can say it. when he's trying to coax you out of bed. "darling, your five minutes are up." when he's exasperated and you're squabbling. "that's not what i said, darling." when he's struck by the way you look. "look at you, darling; you're the prettiest thing i've seen." (on occasion, minghao will use 'petal' or 'angel'. all soft, reverent names.)

❥ dating (1). dates with minghao are like you'd imagine. he's big on museums, especially the contemporary/modern ones. he enjoys walking around with you aimlessly, reading the descriptions out loud to you, and asking what you think about certain pieces. he's also a fan of nature; you can expect visits to botanical gardens, treks through sun-soaked trails.

❥ dating (2). there's also a part of minghao that revels in shopping dates. it's his not-so guilty pleasure, having the chance to visit strip malls or boutiques with you. he has a keen eye for articles of clothing that suit you the best. it's a little harder for you to help dress him, so you're likely to be on the receiving end of his slight side-eye whenever you pick out something rather questionable. he'll indulge you all the same, but he draws pretty clear lines on what matches his style. "we are not getting that," he half-begs as you insist on what he considers the world's most atrocious jacket. "i love you, but please!"

❥ apology language. fights with minghao may be few and far between, but they still happen. he can be sarcastic and sharp-tongued, after all; honest, but not sentimental. when apologizing to you, he's the type to accept responsibility and make restitution. "i was wrong," he'll start. "what can i do to make things right?" he's able to take ownership of when he screwed up, and he believes in implementing change in making amends. he expects the same energy from you, though, because minghao is not about to be in a relationship where there's no growth.

❥ the little things, a.k.a minghao is... gossip excitedly shared the moment he gets home ("you said i shouldn't tell anyone, but that doesn't count my partner"). outings with his parents, where he glows with pride at the thought of it being a 'double date'. voice messages sent whenever he's away; groggy recordings of "just got to my hotel room. i'll text once i've gotten some sleep. good night… or is it morning there?… ugh, whatever."

❥ love language to receive. despite being a man who received compliments on the daily, minghao will be the first to admit that affirmation hits different when it comes from you. he may not actively seek your validation, but you can see it in a dozen little ways. how he turns to you first when he's trying on a new outfit. how he looks for you in the crowd whenever he's performing. there's a certain tension that eases from his shoulders when you acknowledge him. he will try not to look too pleased about it; you'll find it in the twinkle in his eye, the shine of his smile.

❥ love language to give. minghao is a man who lives and breathes acts of service. you need to do your groceries? he's more than happy to tag along. you can't pick up your laundry? he'll get it for you. minghao makes sure that you always have gas in your tank, that he has pocket versions of your vanity kit in every bag of his. a line from hafiz's it happens all the time in heaven best describes minghao's credo when it comes to loving you: "my dear, how can i be more loving to you? / how can i be more kind?"

[neoarchipelago]

And they were roommates (part 11)

A/N: I hope this works because my internet is KILLING ME.

Warning: 18+ content SHIT IS STARTING TO GET REAL.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The next day, you and Simon had driven to the house. It felt like two parents visiting a house to move in with their kids. It made you laugh. The house was enormous. 4 bedrooms, three bathrooms, a spacious kitchen, a big living room with a tv big enough to feel like at the cinema.  A very modern house painted in dark tones. All that you liked. You had looked at Kate and General Hopkins as he spoke.

"You deserve some comfort. You've been such a great asset-"  

"You're trying to give me a luxurious house because I almost got killed." 

The silence set for a minute, Ghost grabbing the back of your pants as he stood behind you. 

"Yes… pretty much" the general admitted. 

You rolled your eyes. Kate shook her head. 

"You also deserve it. Plus you need a bigger space since you are having even more roommates." She smiled. 

You sighed. Ghost ran his thumb on your lower back, soothing you. It sent a shiver down your spine. He loved to do this. You had noticed it. These little touches, hidden from others. It grounded you to him. If you felt anxious, nervous or tense. You loved it. He couldn't stop touching you. 

The week after, you had moved in. Gaz and Soap were sharing a room, Konig had his own room and Ghost and you too. You had wanted to share Ghost's room but to keep things slow you had both preferred to stay like that. You'd share each other's beds in any way. Soap and Gaz were thrilled, Konig was too but in his own quiet way. Ghost seemed tense already. 

"Hey… you alright?" You asked when the boys were a bit further away in the house. 

"Starting to regret living with these idiots already." 

"Konig's quiet." 

"Wait until they play board games." 

You had laughed. 

You had settled in your room nicely. The space felt much bigger than your old apartment. However it felt less empty. Even from your room you could hear the boys laughing, or the TV playing. You smiled to yourself. Things had changed so much in a few months. You didn't regret it at all. 

You were putting away your clothes in your new walk in closet. You were at peace, finally. Walking back into your room, you yelped when you noticed someone sitting on top of your bed. 

"What the-" 

You squinted your eyes. You knew it was him. You would have recognized him even in the dark. But… him, sitting there, without his mask on, made your heart beat as if it wanted to leave your chest. 

"Fuck… even your face is hot." You let out. 

You immediately blushed when you realized that once more your mouth had been faster than your brain. 

You tried to hide your blushing face in your hands as you heard him laugh. 

"Come here bunny." 

You dropped your hands, biting your lip and walking to him. You stood in between his legs. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you…" 

You smiled, finally holding his face in your hands as his arms wrapped around your waist. 

"I was happily surprised." You whispered. 

He closed his eyes letting his face rest in between your chest, earning a chuckle from you. God he did look handsome. 

"I just… thought it was time to show you my face." He said, voice muffled by your own body. 

"I am honored. You don't have to if you feel uncomfortable." You assured him. 

"I feel safe with you. I don't mind at all." 

It made your heart jump in your chest. He felt safe with you. You wrapped your arms around his head, leaning your own on top of his. 

You remained like this for a little while until a knock was heard. 

"Hey guys!" Soap called. 

Simon groaned against you. You laughed. 

"Someone's here to see you!" 

You frowned. 

"We'll be downstairs in a minute Soap." You called back. 

You tried to separate the embrace but he held onto you. 

"Come on Simon. Let's go see who's there." You smiled at him. 

He stared at you for a long minute. 

"You're so pretty when you smile…"

You blushed heavily at the compliment. 

"Thank you…" you dropped a soft kiss on his lips. 

He sighed against your lips before you finally separated. He grabbed his mask that was thrown on top of the bed, only noticing it now, before dropping it over his head. 

You threw a last smile at him before you headed for the door. 

You walked down the stairs with him, meeting the rest of the house and Price in the living room. 

You turned your head to finally see your guests. Mellissa and Amy. 

"Oh Sparrow! Are you alright?" She was worried. 

"Y/N! Ghowsty!" Amy cheered. 

You could have laughed at the shocked expressions on the rest of the team. You finally reached them, taking Amy into your arms as she was impatiently extending hers towards you. 

"hey! How are you monkey?" you kissed her cheek making her giggle. 

As Simon came to a stop next to you she extended her arms to him. You had been beaten at this game. He was her favorite. You looked at him, his eyes not leaving you and the little girl in your arms. You saw something unfamiliar in his eyes before he extended his own arms to pick up the little girl.  

"gowsty!" she smiled at him. 

"hey little baby princess." he cooed. 

Yes. he did. And it made you melt on the spot. Melissa grinned and the rest of the room were absolutely shocked. It took one glance from ghost for them to look away. You rolled your eyes. You invited Melissa to come sit on the couch with everyone as ghost and Amy followed. She decided to sit on his lap and not move from there, playing with his skeleton gloves. 

"Boys, this is Melissa gallegos. She's my friend and the mother of this sweetheart, Amy." You cooed as well, softly brushing a strand of hair out of her face, making her giggle. Simon looked like he wanted to devour you for a split second. 

"this is Soap" you introduced. 

The little went into a giggle of laughter, making everyone melt in the room. 

"soap!" she repeated. 

The man in question blushed a bit, waving at her. 

"why you'calld soap?" she asked. 

The room temperature suddenly changed but Ghost was quick to move. 

"because he loves washing his hair." he lied. 

The truth was not something for her little ears. Soap looked a bit hurt but the rest laughed. 

"this, is Gas. because... because that's his name." Ghost said, taking the lead. 

"This.." 

For a second you were worried about her reaction towards Konig. He stood in the room a bit further away. He was trying to hide his big frame, probably not to scare the child but was failing. 

"this is Konig. He's... a friend." Ghost tried. It was clumsy. He was trying to find a way to make her accept the big guy. 

"Why he sow bwig?" she asked. 

"Amy..." Melissa started. 

"Because he's half giant." Ghost said, making everyone chuckle and Konig rubbed the back of his head. 

"he has supew powers?" she asked, not letting Konig out of her sight. 

"yes." he asked. 

"wat?" she asked.

"he gives the best hugs! and when you're in his arms you're super tall!" Soap said. 

She giggled. 

"thas not a supew power!" 

"ah! you should try!" he winked at her. 

She thought for a minute before extending her arms towards him, leaving you in a bit of shock. This little girl would never cease to amaze you. Konig had frozen on the spot. 

"Konig. Come here." Ghost ordered. 

You were going to protest, telling him not to force him if he was uncomfortable, but Konig moved forwards very slowly. Finally in front of Ghost and Amy, he picked her up very slowly as if she was made of glass. The little girl didn't say anything while looking around. 

"im tawler than everwyone!" she claimed happily, making everyone laugh. 

Konig looked relieved, until she looked into his eyes through the mask. She touched it a bit. 

"ah ah Amy. We talked about this." Melissa warned. 

"imno gonna take it off!" she said, looking offended.

It made you smile. As she turned back to the man. 

"you eyes awe pwetty. They blue" she said, making the monster of a man melt on the spot. 

She hugged him before asking to go back to ghost's lap. Konig was very flustered but walked back next to soap to sit on another couch. 

"This is Captain price. Or as Y/N calls him, dad." 

You gasped, looking at Ghost horrified. Everyone laughed. Amy was deep in thoughts. Before jumping from Ghost lap and running to price 

"gwandpaw!" 

Now Melissa looked horrified. It clicked so fast in your mind. How Melissa called you her sister and Amy's aunt. The very clever girl added 1+1 and decided that if you were her aunt and Price was your dad, obviously he was her grandfather. 

Price had looked taken aback but gladly held her in his arms. 

Ghost sulked a bit, suddenly not being the center of attention of the little girl. You left the boys being completely amazed by the little girl as you turned to melissa. 

"How are you? Laswell told me what happened. I was in the room when she was talking to Hopkins." she looked worriedly at you. 

"I'm fine, don't worry. Not my first rodeo, we both know that." you said, grabbing her hand in yours. 

"I was so damn worried. I couldn't handle it, and Amy surely wouldn't." she said. 

"Hey, I'm fine. Don't worry alright? I have a whole team of bodyguards constantly watching over me now" you said in a joking tone looking at the boys behind you. 

Amy was standing on top of the table, the men on their knees or crouching around it. 

"though your daughter seems to be their master. She has a talent of bringing these terrifying men to their knees.'' You laughed with melissa. 

You both watched as Amy took turns, touching soap's mohawk, price's hat, gas's hat, Ghost mask and konig's too. 

"Stay for dinner, the boys will be thrilled." You said. 

And they were. They were absolutely thrilled. You had made dinner with Melissa while they had played with Amy's legos that Ghost had bought for her the last time. Now you all sat at table dining, talking happily. Amy was so fascinated by the way Konig ate underneath his mask that she'd forget to eat what was in her mouth. Konig had felt very embarrassed under her scrutiny and had avoided eye contact. 

You had stopped for a second, looking at the table you sat at. You felt grateful. For all of these people. 

Once dinner was over, the boys had cleaned up the table, except ghost who was trapped by a little girl in his arms. She was starting to get sleepy. Ghost had glanced at you as you sent a wink his way, making him shake his head. 

"what's happening between you and the liteutenant?" 

Melissa's voice made you slightly jump. 

"hum... well... we're... together." you spoke. 

You tried not to blush but she gasped, a smirk on her face afterwards. 

"you go girl! daaaamnn." she said. 

You rolled your eyes. 

"so it's serious huh?" she asked

"yeah... I think it is... he trusts me enough to show me his face." 

She looked touched, holding you in her arms. 

"I'm so happy for you. Really. You deserve it." 

You smiled, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. You blinked them away. 

"Thank you Melissa. I'm so happy you're in my life too." 

She smiled at you before turning back to ghost. The little girl had fallen asleep in his arms as he kept pacing around to rock her softly. You noticed that the boys had lowered the volume of their voices too, as Ghost eyed them like a hawk at every decibel too high for his taste. 

"He'd be a great dad." Melissa teased. 

"We're far from that. Please don't start." You begged. 

You walked towards him. 

"Thank you lieutenant. She really adores you." she said to him. 

"No problem." he nodded. 

"I think we should go home." she said, glancing at you and then at the sleeping girl. 

"Alright, we'll walk you to the car." you offered, Ghost clearly not wanting to wake up the little girl, agreed. 

Everyone bid their goodbyes in a hushed tone under Ghost's gaze. You walked Melissa to the car, ghost had dropped the little girl, her car seat buckling her up. 

"Thank you lieutenant." she smiled. 

You stood next to him as Melissa looked at you both. 

"Thank you for taking care of her lieutenant". she said. 

You blushed heavily, looking down to hide your face. 

"The best mission I've chosen." he answered back. 

You bit your lip looking up at him as he glanced down back at you. Melissa got into her car and left,  leaving you both at the entrance of the house.

"You're gonna catch a cold. let's go back inside." he said, his hand meeting your lower back.

"Simon." you called. 

He looked at you, waiting. 

"Thank you. for taking care of me." 

"No. Thank you. For holding on to me. To my... fucked up mind and scarred body." 

Your eyes faltered, his words hurting you in a way you didn't think was possible. You grabbed his face in between your hands, his masked face dropping to touch your forehead with his. 

"You're everything Simon. you. Ghost. the lieutenant. all of you." you comforted him. 

He hugged you tighter. 

"fuck.." he cursed under his breath. 

A breeze passed by, soothing the incredible heat in your body. 

"come on... let's head back." 

You nodded, stepping inside with him. 

One thing had been absolutely sure. The boys loved playing games. When they weren't training or at the base and they were bored at home, they'd always want to play a board game or a game of cards. And right now. The game of cards was improvised. The evening had rolled in, you had been working in your room, and the boys were bored. It had begun as a simple game, Soap had ordered pizzas, and you sat around the large table in the living room. But as time passed, those menaces had decided to add some dares to the game. If you'd lose, you'd have to do something. Price had been skeptical, Ghost too, especially because he was worried about what the boys could make you do just to taunt him.

After the first round, where, much to Soap's dismay, he had lost, he was forced to play with handcuffs for the next 5 rounds. Watching him struggle during round 2 made Price laugh way too much, so he remained for the game. Obviously he very quickly regretted his choice.

Gaz had brought some Rhum, and even if it remained very calm, alcohol loosened minds and… tongues. You were all a bit tipsy. And the dares were beginning to be slightly hotter than they should be. Konig was shirtless… the poor man was extremely embarrassed. Gaz and Soap made out, a little predicament created by you. Unfortunately that had horribly backfired. You had to call Laswell and ask her if Price could legally adopt you. She was extremely confused but had said yes. Price added that he'd keep it in mind. 

To counter that you had prepared a little cocktail for the next looser, Soap. You made sure it was incredibly spicy. He had died, his soul leaving his body for a minute. Ghost seemed to be a very good player, managing to lose twice. He had to draw two little blush points on his mask with lipstick. He looked extremely cute. The second time he had to let the boys draw something on his arms with a sharpie. He had rolled his eyes.  After that he had escaped all shenanigans except one, he also had to take off his shirt. For some reason these men loved seeing each other half naked. 

Price had tapped out, opting for going home before he lost all credibility as a captain. Konig had also begged to be let go, you had obviously let the poor man leave, remembering him he didn't need permission, and shouldn't listen to the boys. Now, as the four of you remained. The dares become completely ridiculous. Now Gaz was handcuffed to Soap. They had a wife and husband written on their foreheads with a sharpie. You had cringed, you knew he'd be hard to clean up. 

The tapping point was you having to… lick your way from Ghost's clothed mouth to the aim of his pants, under the careful gaze of the two men. You were blushing hard. Ghost's eyes were fixated on you, his breath had quickened. His hand had reached your hair, tightening there when you passed over his abs. 

You had tried your best to hide your blush when you stood up. You could feel Simon's eyes following your every movement. When soap had tried to comment something along the lines of 'I'm jealous I want a bunny too', he had received a smack behind the head as a warning. The last round had hit, everyone was tired as 3 am was slowly approaching. To everyone's surprise, Ghost lost. Soap and Gaz had run to you, and you were now trying to find the perfect dare to conclude the game. 

Soap finally jumped. 

"I know! You have to wear a dog collar and a leash all day for Y/N!" 

You had gasped and blinked slowly, trying to process what he had said. You looked at Ghost, he seemed to think about it. 

"Simon…" you called. 

"Ok." 

Did he… agree?! You were unsure if it was the alcohol or something else. 

"Nice!" Gas said. 

You were extremely confused… and slightly excited. The sight might be something worth seeing. 

You had called it a night, kissing Simon goodnight and hopping into bed. The liquor and the tiredness made your head buzz as you closed your eyes. 

The next morning you had woken up rather begrudgingly. You needed a coffee. Or tea. You had thrown one of Simon's hoodies on and some leggings before heading down stairs. The house was noisier than usual for this hour. You had walked into the living room, greeting everyone. Soap and gas had a grin on their face. Ghost had walked to you, lifting up his mask to kiss you deeply. 

This was the best way to wake up. Truly. 

"Good morning" you mumbled in a sleepy voice. 

"Good morning bunny." He growled. 

You were taken aback from his tone. What was going on this morning? 

"Breakfast is ready, come on!" Soap called. 

You had sat at the table and eaten breakfast with everyone until Price had walked in, a bag in hand.

"Good morning everyone!" He greeted. 

The boys were quick to their feet as ghost sighed, getting up as well. He extended his hand to you, making you get up and step to him. He dropped your hand to reach his neck with both hands, taking his dog tags and transferring them to your neck. You stumbled on your words looking at him. You felt incredibly honored and thrilled and… owned.

"S-simon… I…." 

"Fuck. You're gonna have to let me take a picture of you like that." He talked in a hushed tone to you. 

He didn't leave any room for an answer as he grabbed your head and made you walk with him to the others. 

"I have no idea why you asked me to pick this up, but I have a feeling it has something to do with last night's game." Price said as he dropped the bag on one of the couches and grabbed the objects inside. 

Your eyes widened when you saw him take out a dog collar and a leash, both black. 

"Oh my god…" you let out. 

"Yes!! Captain you are the best!" Soap almost yelled. 

Gas was just as excited as him. 

"Alright, so who has to wear this?" He asked, turning to soap and then gas. 

When they both turned towards ghost, who stood next to you, arms crossed, Price froze for a second. 

"Really?" He asked with his signature smile. 

You were unable to process what was happening as Soap took the object and ran to the man next to you. He stopped when he saw the dark gaze of his lieutenant. 

"Sergeant, if you try to put it around my neck I will break your hands." He warned. 

Soap smirked but nodded before handing you the collar and leash. 

"Wait, WHAT." You cried out.

You looked at the black leather collar. It had a silver tag shaped like a skull. You turned it to see Riley written behind. They had made it engraved. The leash was a mix of black leather and chain. It was pretty basic. You were taken out of your thoughts as you saw Simon bend down next to you, now eye to eye level. 

"Simon, really?" You asked. 

"I am a man of my word." He said. 

You shook your head. This… was ridiculous. The rest of the team looked at you expectedly. You sighed, unbuckling the damn thing before very slowly approaching it to his neck. The eye contact was intense as you secured it around his neck, and the tension was breakable as you hooked the leash on it. 

"Bloody hell. You're all insane." Price let out, finally breaking the tension. 

He straightened up as you still held the leash in your hand. 

"There! Now you have scary dog privileges!" Soap joked. 

"This is a sight LT." Gas added. 

"When did this happen?" Konig asked, poor man confused. 

You couldn't believe this. 

Ok. Alright. It was a matter of 24h. It might be fun after all. 

You had continued about your day, unleashing Ghost. Soap and gas had forced you to keep the leash on you so you could put it back whenever needed. They were having way too much fun with this. You had your laptop on your lap as you worked through some things on the couch, Simon not too far. You had heard some commotions behind you in the kitchen. 

"Y/N! Get your dog!" 

You smirked.

"It don't bite." You said matter of factly. 

"Yes IT DO!" Soap threw back. 

You had continued to work without paying attention to them. During the day you had found yourself often playing with the tags around your neck, letting your fingers trace the letters on it. Mindlessly bringing it to your lips when you were lost in thoughts. You had only noticed it when soap had thrown a comment about it. 

"Y/N." 

"Hmm?" 

"You don't have to kiss that, the real thing is right here." 

You had blinked looking at him and then at Ghost. You felt a rush of adrenaline as you saw him, hunched over the kitchen counter both hands on it, gazing at you through his lashes like he wanted to pounce on you. 

Soap had immediately excused himself and you had let the tags fall back to your chest. 

"S-sorry…" you apologized. 

He had suddenly realized his posture as you spoke, straightening himself and cleared his throat. 

"No problem." 

He had quickly walked out, the tag on his collar clicking, leaving you confused. 

The interaction had remained in your mind. He had seemed a bit distant afterwards. You had gone out for a drink, soap and gas reminding you that you had to keep him on a leash. You had been horrified at the thought but Ghost had grabbed the end of the leash and hooked it in his collar. 

It had been funny to see all the soldiers at the bar avoiding all eye contact towards your table. The sheer fear the man next to you created in them was astounding. And yet he was next to you, as your hand held onto the leather leash connected to his dog collar. He had made sure to reach to your neck and take out the dog tags so everyone could see it. 

"Damn he possessive." Gas had joked, being completely ignored by his lieutenant.

And he was. You had gotten up to order another drink at the bar. 

"What can I get you ?" The bartender asked smiling at you. 

"Hum can I get a mojito, with strawberry syrup?" You asked tentatively. 

"Oh! Sure, Nice!" He agreed with a wink. 

When you had walked back to the table with your drink, Simon had wrapped his arms around your waist and not let go for the rest of the night. 

You felt a bit uneasy because you could clearly see his mood had changed. You had gotten home around midnight and everyone had gone to bed. The boys had finally let Ghost alone with the collar, though he was still wearing it. You had brought him into your bedroom to try and talk it out. 

"Y/N, I'm fine, come one hop into bed." He had tried. 

You were still holding the leash and you straightened it, applying only a bit of pressure. 

"Simon." 

His gaze had darkened. 

"Tell me." 

"Your time is up bunny. The leash is off now." He warned.

You furrowed your brows in challenge, applying even more pressure in the leash. He growled. 

"Bunny. Let. Go." He warned again. 

"Then tell me." You confronted again. 

He reached your hand, bringing you to his chest. You yelped. His hand was holding your jaw softly. 

"You had fun having me on a leash all day?" 

His special dark tone was back. The one that sent shivers down your spine and made you feel like he was a predator hunting his prey. 

"Well, everyone knew who you belonged to." You teased. 

He chuckled darkly. 

"Yeah. Same with my tags around your pretty neck." He made you spin around, now making you look into the mirror on the wall. His hand traveled from your stomach to your chest where the tags dangled. Your breath hitched as his hand hovered over your breast. 

"Look at you. Mine. So fucking pretty." He growled in your ear. 

"You know what. You're such a pretty sight to see. Let's immortalize this pretty sight." 

You frowned. 

"W-what?" You asked. 

He took his phone out with his other hand, turning it on and opening his camera. 

"Grab the leash." He ordered.

You obeyed, holding the leash over your shoulder. He placed his hand over your throat, not squeezing but holding you in place. He aimed the lense towards the mirror, taking both of you into view. 

"Good girl…" he praised, making you close your eyes and tilt your head back. 

He had taken a picture at that exact moment.  

"So pretty fuck. I wanted to punch that guy at the bar you know." 

You finally understood. 

"Simon… his wink was just playful… it-" 

"No… not his wink. The way he eyed your ass when you walked away from him. That. That made me want to rip his head off." 

Oh. You hadn't noticed that. He was jealous. God that man was possessive. 

He closed his eyes for a little second. 

"Simon. I'm yours." You reminded him. 

He opened his eyes, planting them into yours in the mirror. He visibly relaxed. 

"My bunny." 

"My wolf." You teased. 

He laughed a bit, relieved. 

"That's new." 

You turned around hugging him. He took off his mask, letting it drop to bed behind you. He dropped a kiss on top of your head. 

"I'm sorry… "

"Why?" You questioned.

"I… sometimes lose myself. You have to tell me if I scare you an-" 

"No!" 

You looked at him as he frowned. 

"I'm not scared Simon. Please don't think that. You never hurt me. And I trust you." 

He took a moment before nodding. 

"Come on, bed time." 

You whined. 

"Sleep with me tonight." You asked. 

"Bunny… not tonight. I got to wake up early tomorrow, the team has to go to base." 

"A mission ?" 

"Something like that. I'll tell you more after I get info." 

You nodded. 

You had slipped into pj's in your bathroom before slipping into bed. He had stayed just to be able to tuck you into bed. He turned around heading to leave before you stopped him. 

"Simon…" 

"Yes baby?"

"Can you send me that picture…" you blushed. 

"Of course bunny." 

Once he was out you smiled to yourself. He was really possessive over you. You knew there was a part of him that felt scared that thought you might regret this relationship. That he was not good for you. You wanted to prove him wrong. Your phone buzzed. 

You picked it up to see the notification. Simon had sent the picture. Fuck was it good. You made sure to keep it for yourself. He had added a little treat as a second notification rang. He was shirtless, the collar still on as he held the leash in one hand. The camera was tilted upwards as the looked straight into it. Fuck. You didn't take him for the kind of man to send thirst traps to his girl. But you were glad he was. 

You bit your lip, thinking about your next move. You were slightly embarrassed but also somehow excited. You undressed yourself before laying back down in bed. You made sure to position the dog tags in between your breasts with his name visible. You bit your lip. You held the phone up, making sure the flash was on and you took the picture making sure to push your breast together. You edited the photo making sure to add little skulls over your nipples.

You made sure to check the picture before sending it as fast as possible with a small good night. 

You bit your lip. You wondered if you were going to get an answer. Two minutes passed so you thought he wouldn't. But then a notification came on. 

You smiled to yourself. Finally drifting off to sleep. The next morning you woke up to an empty house. It felt oddly quiet. You took your time eating breakfast and resting. Around lunch time you were still alone. You knew the team had to go to the base for something related to a mission. You wondered when they would come back. Time passed by and you got lost for a little moment in your work. 

When late afternoon rolled in, you decided that perhaps a warm bath would be perfect. You could read a book or something. You stood from the couch when suddenly you heard the front door open and a lot of voices half yelling at each other. You frowned, watching the team stumble over each other. 

"hey hey hey... guys, what's going on?" 

"hey Y/N!" soap called in a very soft voice making you expect the worst. 

"so hum... we got something here, can you take a look?" gas asked. 

"It's a bit urgent, sweetheart." price added in a serious tone. 

You walked over to the table where the boys gathered, putting down a laptop on the table. you sat down in front of anxious looks. 

"Will any of you tell me what's going on? By the way, where's Ghost?" you frowned, opening the laptop and turning it on as you looked around. 

"Hmm..." Konig tried. 

"well..." Soap continued. 

You immediately turned to Price at their hesitation. 

"Please tell me what's going on." 

He sighed before sitting next to you.

"Darkends is dead. We are very close to catching the drug lord. We've been put on this mission and we were called to brief everyone and check some seized gear. one of the cases was... trapped." 

You felt your heartbeat quicken. no... wait. 

"Simon?" you asked.

"he was the one who opened it." 

You closed your eyes letting out a shaky breath. 

"Hey, he's fine, he's fine. He was in contact with a powder, a drug. He's going to be alright" 

You sighed with relief. 

"He's gone upstairs to his room, but we need to know what kind of drug it is. It was quite a dose and we need to know the effects. Can you do that? " 

"Absolutely. I'm on it." 

You turned to the screen, you absolutely needed to find what it was. 

For over an hour, after you managed to decrypt the computer, you finally had found something interesting. The boys were pacing around and kept watching you. 

Finally you found something interesting, a video about the effects of the drug. 

"guys i got it!" you called. 

They rushed to your side and finally you opened the video. 

The silence was loud. But nothing louder than the sounds coming from the laptop. You blushed heavily as Soap laughed and Gas cursed. The noise kept repeating itself, making it obvious as to what the drug was. 

"ah! fuck me!" 

It was a sex drug. 

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

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

[heroes-among-us-all]

How would Izuku, Katsuki, and Shouto react to walking in on their girlfriend for the first time while she's changing?

Izuku:

Poor baby will be mortified, and there's no doubt this moment will live on in his mind rent-free.

You've forgotten to lock the door, so when he walks into the room, he finds himself looking at you while you are very much exposed.

He pretty much faints for a split-second, and when he finally blinks to make sense of the situation, his freckled cheeks turn the deepest shade of red you've ever seen.

"I-I-I'm so sorry!" he exclaims, immediately covering his eyes with his hands. "I didn't know that you were... it-it was an accident! I'm so sorry!"

He's just about as panicked as you might expect, and even though this isn't exactly how you wanted him to see you half-naked for the first time, his innocent reaction is adorable in its own right.

"It's okay, Izuku," you reassure. "I'm not mad. I know it wasn't on purpose. I probably should've remembered to lock the door. It's my bad."

His eyes are still covered, so when he tries to walk out of the room, he ends up smacking his face into the door a few times. You feel bad for thinking it, but it's kind of hilarious.

Still, you know that your boyfriend is a flustered little cinnamon roll, and it's one of the things you love most about him. It'll take him a long time to calm down though, that much is for sure.

Once your relationship progresses a bit more, you'll be happy to show him a more intimate side of yourself. But for the time being, you should take things slow and not surprise him anymore, otherwise he'll probably have a heart attack.

Shouto:

At first, you don't even know he's walked in on you changing, because he's completely silent. It's only when you turn and catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye that you gasp and hurry to cover yourself up.

Shouto just stands there, refusing to blink. His expression is usually so stoic, so it's hard to tell the difference, but there's no doubt that his face is red, his eyes are wider than usual, and his lips are parted in awe.

"Um," you say, doing your best to cover up your exposed parts with your hands, but it's not an easy feat. "Shouto. You know you can look away, right?"

He finally blinks. "Oh. Right. I should... probably do that."

Even then, it still takes him a while to turn around. You're not sure if it's the shock of it all, or if he's trying to prolong the moment for as much as possible. You're definitely embarrassed, but you'd be flattered if that was the case.

"I'm sorry," Shouto says, standing with his back facing you. You can see that the tips of his ears have turned red. "I should have knocked before coming in."

"No, I could've locked the door. It's okay. This is no big deal," you reassure.

"It's a big deal for me," you hear him mutter under his breath. He opens the door and walks out, but right before he closes it in his stead, you catch him not-so-subtly stealing one last peek.

Even if he's respectful enough not to bring this moment up, you get the feeling that he'll be thinking about it for a long time.

Katsuki:

He's hardly the type to check before barging into a room, so he just blows right past the door and says, "Hey, [Name]! Where'd you hide my damn chili powder? I told you to stop-"

He isn't able to finish his sentence, because there you are, with your most delicate parts exposed.

Katsuki stiffens up, and he immediately barks out, "What the hell? Why didn't you lock the damn door?!"

He's as loud as ever, but that's mostly because he's trying to downplay his embarrassment by yelling. The fact that his face is bright red - basically as red as his eyes - tells you everything you need to know.

"I don't remember where I hid the chili powder," you admit, using your hands to cover yourself up.

Katsuki's face turns even redder. "As if I could care less about that right now! God... j-just let me know when you're done changing. We can talk later."

He likes to act macho and like nothing could ever faze him, but the sight of his girlfriend half-naked wasn't something he was prepared for this early on in the relationship. In fact, he even fumbles with the door handle as he tries to close it behind him.

"Shit!" you hear him curse out, and you can't help but laugh, even as embarrassed as you are.

As you finish changing, Katsuki stomps through the house in a hopeless attempt to try and calm down. At least you have something to tease him over for the next little while.

[the-travelling-bitch]

Head empty, just Bachira with a breeding kink😔

Acting so sweet with the neighbors’ children until the baby fever’s kicking in

Free me from this cage😩

no because you’re so right <3

do i want children? hell no; do i still read every fic with breeding kink in it? fuck yes

[f!reader]

tw: breeding kink (duh), mentions of pregnancy, pet names, use of mommy (once), cream pie, implied multiple orgasms

Bachira loves playing with the neighbours’ children, chasing them around the yard at gatherings and making them laugh with stupid tricks and jokes

He teaches all of them how to play soccer for sure and is so supportive, encouraging them to practice more on their own too

The kids love him and the parents do too, finally catching a break to catch up with one another while their children are distracted

Bachira always thought they were cute and thought about what it would be like to have his own with you but baby fever didn’t kick in until he saw you bounce a little kid on your hip, smiling as the little thing grabbed your thumb with surprising strength

After that sight, he was a changed man; he started noticing happy families everywhere and couldn’t tear his eyes of the teeny tiny shoes in shop displays

And naturally, you notice that something is up; it’s unlike your husband to be so distracted, normally giving you 100% of his attention

While he’s usually already incredibly handsy, the way his palms cup your stomach more often than anywhere else and trace the skin there isn’t lost on you

So you confront him about it

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Bachira murmured into the heated skin of your neck, lavishing it in kisses and attention as his hips rocked into you, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “My gorgeous wife… you want me to give you a baby, hmm? Make you a mommy?”

By now, only half of what your husband said registered in your mind as you tried to keep up with him. His stamina already outlasted yours by a long shot on normal days but tonight Bachira showed no signs of ever wanting to stop whatsoever.

How many times had it been already? How often had he already stuffed you full since you admitted to wanting a child as well? You couldn’t recall but if the fullness you felt and the mess between your legs was anything to go by…

“Meguru—,” you panted, resisting the urge to close your eyes as you felt a familiar knot curl in your stomach. Instead you blinked up into bright pools of amber and found unmatched passion and determination staring back at you. The way his bangs were sticking to his forehead and single drops of sweat rolled of his chest had you gripping onto his hands intertwined with yours tighter.

“Shit, honey, you’re so good—,” Bachira cut himself off with a deep groan as you clenched around his cock when his pelvis grazed your puffy clit. “So good for me… Can‘t wait to see you all round with my child…”

You whined as his hands left yours but he sweetly shushed you with a kiss to your temple. Not that you had much time to think about it too hard with the way he pushed your legs towards your chest and his thrusts felt just so much deeper.

There was no way he could fit another load in there, not when he already sat so snugly against your walls. But you knew it wouldn’t stop your husband from trying either way. His weight pressing you down further into the sheets had your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his form towered over you.

“I— Meguru—“

Apparently your incoherent babbling made sense to him because he grinned down at you, finally slightly out of breath himself as he neared another orgasm. “Cum for me baby. Just let go, yeah? I got you.”

And with a sob you did, arms looping around Bachira’s neck to hold on to him. Your hips squirmed around to get away from the sinful pleasure but firm hands kept you in place as a familiar warmth filled you up once again, paired with a drawn-out groan into your neck.

After catching your breath, you tried rolling your husband off of you, his cock still nestled deep inside of you, but he wouldn’t budge. Instead you felt more kisses pressed against your shoulder. Even an airy call of his name only got you a distracted hum in response.

“Gotta… Gotta make sure it takes,” he mumbled. The deep tone of his voice in combination with the unwavering resolution of his words made your heart beat quicken again. That’s when you noticed how his cock twitched against your walls, still hard as it pressed against all the right spots.

“Now that I think about it,” Bachira purred right against your ear, “I should give you another one. Just to make sure…”

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (22)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, violence, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Aemond's journey on Vhagar to Winterfell, which would take a week on horseback, took him two days. The North was like a white, glistening wilderness to him, once in a while small, grey villages and the strongholds of minor lords could be seen on the ground.

When he finally reached his destination he had to admit that Lord Stark's fortress impressed him − his great stone fortress floated among the snow-covered hills.

Vhagar's arrival led to panic and the local population fleeing away from her resting place − Aemond ordered her to stay where he thought that her large body would do the least damage, on a hill away from the stronghold.

He was welcomed by the guards, to whom he announced who he was and to whom he was coming.

He was received with honours and hospitality; the young lord, Cregan Stark, sat with his advisors behind a long wooden table, looking at him with concern.

Aemond knew that the Starks had never broken their promises, and his father had sworn allegiance to his whore-sister.

He had to change his mind.

"My Lord." He said lowly, nodding. Lord Stark also nodded in response.

"My Prince. I must admit I am surprised to see a messenger from the Red Keep in areas so far from King's Landing. Explain to me with what matter you come with." He said calmly, but also with a kind of suspicion that he did not like − he knew that he had to be careful with his words.

"I come on behalf of my brother-king, who has expressed his wish for you to pay him homage in King's Landing, along with the other lords." He said matter-of-factly, not taking his eye off him.

He, however, did not lower his gaze either; he furrowed his brow, surprised, glancing quickly at the maester, who whispered something in his ear. There was a commotion behind the table.

He found with amusement that the word of his brother's coronation had not reached Winterfell before he arrived.

He thought this was a good thing, as he had taken them by surprise and could press them.

Cregan Stark grunted loudly, looking at him uncertainly.

"What of your half-sister, the legitimate heir to the throne established by your father-king?" He asked, trying to hide his nervousness and stress, his hand clenched into fist on the table in front of him.

He pressed his lips together, wondering how much he could allow himself with him.

He figured that the boy was about Jace's age.

"My father, on his deathbed, decided that he would not go against the will of his ancestors, and that his first-born son should sit on the Iron Throne." He said with certainty and smirked, seeing the commotion behind the table again, the tentative conversation distracting the young lord.

"Silence!" He called out loudly, raising his hand, the men around him fell quiet. Lord Stark hid his face in his hands, letting the air out quietly. He wanted to say something, but didn't have time; a guard stepped inside, bowing low.

"My Lord, forgive my boldness, but a messenger from Dragonstone has arrived." He said quickly, his heart pounding fast in anticipation, a cold sweat run down his back.

He prayed it was Luke.

He pressed his lips together as Jace was led inside; the boy stopped abruptly, clearly frightened at the sight of him − he felt like laughing at this pathetic sight. Jace, however, pulled himself together and walked closer, still at a safe distance from him, bowing to the young lord.

"My Lord. I come by order of my queen-mother to remind you of your father's oath of allegiance to her years ago." He said in trembling voice, straightening up.

This was something that he had not anticipated.

Lord Stark stared at them with his mouth open, himself not knowing what to make of the situation, horrified and confused. He shook his head, pressing his fingers together between his furrowed brows, letting the air out with impatience.

"I'm lost. Do we have a King or a queen then?" He asked, clearly upset and frightened by the fact that a skirmish was about to take place in his court that completely did not concern him. He grinned mischievously at his question, looking at Jace with a satisfied expression on his face.

"My bastard nephew is flying around the kingdom, trying to steal my brother's throne." He said lightly. Jace lit up with a blush of shame and clenched his jaw, looking away, intertwining his hands behind his back in an attempt to calm himself.

"My uncle and his family have committed treason, planting a usurper, drunkard and rapist on the throne." Said Jace, looking at the young lord.

Cregan Stark laughed at their words, shaking his head, clearly disbelieving what was happening before his eyes − his advisors also seemed confused, looking at them uncertainly.

He thought with rage that it had become a spectacle.

"After your whore mother, who should sit on the Iron Throne? You, Lord Strong?" He asked tauntingly; Jace almost threw himself at him but the guards stopped him, catching him under the shoulders. He laughed out loud, shaking his head, furious and amused at the same time.

"Laugh, uncle. Unlike you, Lord Stark and the North know what honour and loyalty are. The North never forgets. Luke will remind your wife's father of that as well." He said with satisfaction, as if he thought that he had found his soft spot and made no mistake.

He tried to do his best to restrain his involuntary reaction but couldn't, his eye widened in shock, his brow furrowed in concern.

Luke will remind your wife's father of this as well.

Luke flew to Storm's End.

He no longer cared about Lord Stark's decision, whether he would support his brother or not − he felt like rushing out and flying on Vhagar straight to Lord Baratheon's stronghold.

"Enough of this childish pushing. My father supported the heir chosen by King Viserys and I will not question his decision. Is there any document confirming the King's change of will or am I merely to take your word for it, my Prince?" Lord Stark asked him, and he pressed his lips together, turning his head away impatiently.

He had nothing to back up his words, because he didn't believe them himself.

He saw Jace throw him a look full of satisfaction and thought that he would pierce his skull with his sword one day.

"If my words mean nothing to you, Lord Stark, so be it. However, be prepared that when me and Vhagar return, not even a stone will be left here."

He left the stronghold angry and bitter; he thought that until Jace arrived everything had gone according to plan and cursed loudly at the thought that he would have to return to King's Landing reporting his failure.

His brother ordered him to return to the Red Keep immediately after his conversation with Lord Stark, but he made a different decision.

He ordered Vhagar to fly to the skies and headed for Storm's End.

Through the storms and heavy rains, the journey took him longer than he had planned and he wondered if he would still find his wife there.

He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to arrive unannounced, but he was too desperate to wait for her to return to King's Landing.

He would go mad if he had to wait any longer.

When he arrived the weather was similar to when he had come to choose his future wife; all wet, he called out to the guards to lead him inside, and they immediately obeyed his command, recognising him.

It was the middle of the night, and his unannounced visit had brought everyone to their feet − Lord Baratheon was waiting for him in the throne room, dressed hastily in his daytime attire, clearly unhappy to be awakened from his peaceful sleep.

"Forgive me this intrusion, my Lord. I wish to see my wife." He said quickly, water dripping from his wet, white hair onto the stone floor − only now did he feel that he was trembling all over from the cold.

Borros sighed heavily and ordered his servants to take him to his daughter's chamber.

As he stepped inside, his wife jumped up, terrified, looking at him with her mouth parted, lightning and heavy, gusty rain outside the window − it seemed to him that she was not sure whether she was dreaming or not.

"Aemond?" She asked quietly, uncertainly, and for a moment he could not move.

He looked at her gentle face, her large eyes, her loose, shiny hair wonderfully framing her soft cheeks; he could see the outline of her girlish silhouette through the thin material of her nightgown, a body that belonged only to him.

He realised with pain how much he wanted her, the separation of a few days had made his cock pulsate painfully in his breeches.

"Did you speak to him?" He asked impassively, looking at her as if he wanted to devour her.

He felt like throwing himself at her, but he needed to hear it.

To hear that she had obeyed, that she had done what her husband would have wanted her to do.

He saw her press her lips together and tense up all over.

He did not like it.

He felt his heart pounding hard and stepped closer to her; she moved back, looking at him pleadingly, sitting down on her bed.

"We only exchanged a few words, I didn't expect him to come here." She said horrified, clearly noticing on his face how slowly rage began to pulse through his veins − he felt that he was so tense that something in his body was about to burst.

"What did you discuss, sweet wife?" He sneered, a malicious, poisonous threat in his mouth, evidence of the madness that lurked in his mind and heart.

He saw that she feared him now, that she could already see right through him.

"I told him to send my condolences to his mother for the death of her child." She whispered quietly, trembling all over, frightened, waiting anxiously for his reaction.

He felt that if he could, he would have breathed fire with rage.

What right did she have to meddle in these matters?

What right did she have to sympathise with his enemies, to speak to the bastard who had disfigured him for life?

He felt all his frustration, the failure of his mission in Winterfell, his failure as brother and son crush him under its own weight, the fire that burned within him was as black as his heart, consuming even its light, turning everything into a void.

His lips curved in a dangerous, animalistic grin.

"I'd rather you concentrated on giving an heir to me, instead of considering the offspring of others. You're not very successful at it so far, are you?"

He felt his own heart stop when he heard what he left his mouth and he regretted his words immediately.

He saw in her gaze that she didn't believe it either − her face took on an expression that he had never seen before; her eyebrows arched in pain, her eyes looking at him in disbelief as if he had just his her in the stomach with all his strength, her body trembling on the verge of sobbing.

He wanted her to say something.

For her to say that he was a fucking bastard.

For her to ask how dare he speak to her like that.

"Forgive me for being a disappointment to you, my Prince." She said so painfully calm that he couldn't get anything out.

My Prince.

Not my husband.

He stared at her, unable to move, having a complete blank in his mind − his wife lowered her gaze, letting the tears of humiliation and pain leave the corners of her eyes and run down her cheeks.

He wanted to approach her, to wipe them away, to place tender kisses full of devotion and longing on her sweet, soft face, to tell her that he didn't think so, that he had said it in rage only to hurt her.

He couldn't get the words out.

He lowered his gaze, swallowing loudly, horrified by what he had just done.

He had destroyed everything.

Everything they had built together.

He had crushed her, hit her most sensitive spot because she had dared to show compassion to his nephew.

Because she wasn't as cold and calculating as he was.

Because she was a better person.

He saw her turn over on the bed, laying with her back to him; he knew that she was crying, that he had hurt her, stabbed her in the back.

He wanted to approach her and had already taken a step towards her when he heard her voice.

"− please, don't touch me −" She mumbled and he felt the cold flowing through his body, the tightness in his chest from which his brow arched in pain.

"− return with me to King's Landing −" He choked out pleadingly, wishing only that she would forget what he had said.

That he could go back to the moment that he had walked into her chamber and begin all over again, just throw himself on top of her, panting with longing as he had desired.

"− no −"

He stood for a moment longer looking at her with a blank stare, then turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

He flew through the skies, screaming along with the lightning in the heavens, furious and distraught, pressing his face against his saddle.

He was a mere fool, a weak brat who destroys everything in his path.

He walked into the Red Keep furious, tired and discouraged, the thought of not seeing her for a few more days drove him mad.

He laid down on the bed in his chamber, trying to sleep, exhausted − however after moment his servant entered his chamber, saying that the King was expecting him.

He thought that in the state he was in now, without his wife being able to calm him down, he might have killed him.

Aegon welcomed him in his chamber, sitting at a large table, having just eaten his morning meal.

"Welcome, brother. Sit down and speak." He said lightly, taking a sip of wine, wasting no time since the morning.

He, however, just stood, looking at him indifferently, thinking on whether if he cut his throat now he would be able to throw it at one of his servants.

"Jace came to Winterfell right after me. Fucking honourable Starks don't forget their oaths." He said dispassionately − Aegon sighed heavily, stroking his chin.

"Grandfather will not be pleased." He said lightly, as if his younger borther had just broken a very valuable vase and was about to be punished for it − he chuckled under his breath at that thought.

"Of course. He's the one who actually wears the crown, not you." He hissed; Aegon looked at him warningly, and for a moment they stared at each other, tension hanging in the air between them. Finally, however, his brother grinned as if remembering something.

"I am sending you and Criston to Harrenhal." He said calmly, and he froze, looking at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"An uprising has broken out in support of our sister-whore. They've hanged our Lord Strong in his castle. You have to deal with it, because I don't think we want the other Lords to consider revolting as well?" He asked, plucking one grape from the bunch, taking it into his mouth with a loud crunch of juice.

He looked at him horrified and pale, unable to utter a word.

"For how long?" He asked uncertainly, and his brother laughed under his breath as if he found his question amusing.

"As long as you deal with it." He said softly, taking another grape in his hand. Aemond thought for a long time, looking at him.

"In this case, I'm taking my wife with me as soon as she returns from Storm's End." He said with emphasis, intertwining his hands behind his back, impatient.

He couldn't allow her to be left alone with his brother, much less after the way he had treated her.

He knew that he had to try to make it up to her, but he didn't know what could make her forget such hurtful words.

"You are to set off immediately." Said his brother in an unobjectionable tone, raising an impatient gaze at him. "Your wife will be safe here and will wait patiently for you."

He looked at him with his lips pressed together, his heart pounding like mad.

He was doing this on purpose.

He wanted to push him away from her, so that she would remain in the keep completely defenceless.

"No." He hissed low, squinting. "I will fly with my wife, or not at all."

Aegon stood up slowly, walking around the table, watching him closely. He smiled broadly.

"Be careful or I'll think you've fallen in love with her. Don't be silly. It wasn't a request. Do you want your wife to become a widow?" He asked lightly, raising an eyebrow, waiting for his answer.

He looked at him in disbelief, his lip parted slightly.

The power drove him completely mad.

He wondered what they had done, putting him on the throne, placing a crown on his empty head.

Aegon, seeing his lack of response, patted him on the shoulder, exactly like the day that he'd taken him to the brothel.

"Get that matter sorted out and go back to fuck your wife as much as you like, brother."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @tempt-ress @blairfox4 @crazymusicgirl104 @ahristata

[grandline-fics]

Forget-Me-Not

DESCRIPTION: Sometimes things happen beyond our control. After an accident occurs your relationship with Zoro is turned on its head and changed forever.

WARNINGS: nothing too bad in this part

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 2,094

A/N: Chapter three is here, this one is a bit slower paced but hopefully you all like how things are progressing. Thank you all for your response to this so far, it means a lot.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three(here) | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven(coming soon)

———————

Your plan to escape the ship was easy in theory but slow to even begin to execute. Since you were still heavily injured from the ‘accident’ you needed to rest. So far you could manage getting in and out of bed and walk a little but anything more strenuous than that left you exhausted and sore even with Chopper’s medicine. As much as you were reluctant to compliment a pirate you had to admit the little reindeer knew his stuff and he had helped you considerably. So far since waking on their ship, he was the one you had the most contact with. 

The only other person so far you dealt with was Sanji who brought you your meals. He didn’t speak much beyond a greeting and explaining what was in the food. You knew there was more he wanted to say but he didn’t. While you slowly picked at and ate the food given you would observe Sanji talk happily with Chopper, giving him his meal before leaving again. 

You found it peculiar that the others you could hear moving around the ship were so hesitant to come and try to convince you they were your friends. As you ate with Chopper one afternoon you finally asked him about it. Your question seemed to surprise him but he explained. “Everyone knows how much you hated pirates until you joined us so they’re giving you the space you want. Even though they miss you and want to visit you, they don’t want you to feel crowded.” 

It was convincing, you weren’t going to lie. Whatever these pirates wanted from you, they were doing their best to get you on their side. Still though, to believe you would willingly join a pirate crew was idiotic. You chose not to make any comment to Chopper’s explanation but after a moment you caught him staring at you, clearly wanting to say or ask you something but was deliberating the decision. It amused you to see he was so uncertain around you. “What is it Chopper?”

“Wo-would you…would you want to have some visitors now?” You could hear the eager, hopeful tone in Choppers voice and saw the way his eyes all but sparkled. Who was it specifically he wanted you to talk to you wondered. Or was he hoping to get a break from his obligations to taking care of you? You were curious about the other inhabitants of the ship so you gave Chopper your best tiny shrug and small smile. “Maybe one or two would be okay…” You barely finished the sentence before Chopper excitedly bounced to his feet and hurried out of the room, his speed startling you. 

You had no choice but to wait for Chopper to return and at the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway you glanced up to the door he’d left open during his quick exit. However it wasn’t Chopper that appeared like you were expecting. The green haired man that spoke to you when you woke passed by and at first you thought he was going to keep walking but on seeing the door was open he glanced in out of idle reflex and seeing you he stopped immediately. He turned his head to face you properly but made no further move to enter the room or speak. Instead he watched you carefully. “You coming in?” You asked evenly.

“Do I need to?” He asked, his voice as deep as it had been the day you woke but the concern was gone. He seemed to be on guard and you couldn’t help but tilt your head curiously at the sudden shift in attitude. 

“Didn’t Chopper go get you?” You knew the answer was no from the way his eyebrows furrowed and shoulders tensed. Still you continued to clarify. “I told him I’d let some of you visit me.”

“Even with no memories?” He asked and you scowled at the suspicion in his tone, your jaw clenching when he even went so far as to fold his arms across his chest. His good eye scanned you critically and you bristled. How dare he judge you? He was the pirate here, not you. “Why would you want to be in the same room as the people you hate?” 

“Well according to Chopper we’re all one big happy family and for a moment I wanted to see for myself if that was true.” You drawled sarcastically as you pulled yourself out of the bed and slowly shuffled towards the doorway as you glared up at him. Your actions weren’t any of his business anyway. “So, you going to come in here and fill my head with stories of adventures and friendship that’ll withstand anything?”

“Not with that attitude I’m not.” His answer made your eyes narrow. Before you could grit out a reply, hurried footsteps sounded and you looked into the hallway to see Chopper, a woman with orange hair and a male with black hair and a straw hat appear. The trio came to an abrupt halt when they saw you and their friend, all of their expressions differing from the other as they took in the scene and tension. Finally the green haired man broke the silence. “Enjoy your visits.” He muttered and was about to walk when you seethed, refusing to let him have the final word. 

“I’ve changed my mind.” You snapped, slamming the door sharply and returning to your bed while you listened to the two new strangers shout. 

“Goddamn it Zoro! What did you say?!” The female’s voice came angrily. So his name was Zoro, you thought as you settled against the pillows. 

“Were you annoyed we were going to see them first?” You bit back a scoff and rolled your eyes at the second voice. As if he wanted to be part of the visiting crew, his whole presence told you he didn’t want to see you and that suited you fine. The less pirates you had to see and make nice to the better. “If you say sorry they might change their mind.”

“Just drop it Luffy.” Zoro’s voice spoke clearly but you could hear the tiredness in his tone as his heavy steps grew fainter. “Saying sorry won’t change anything.” You tried to listen for more but he’d gone with the others following him closely. 

—————

In the middle of the night you felt too restless to even try and sleep. Nothing you’d thought of had helped and now you were just frustrated. Giving up you pulled yourself out of bed and followed the hallway until you were on the Sunny’s deck. It’d been a week since your confrontation with Zoro and since then your recovery had progressed at a decent pace that you could now walk further without feeling the strain. In that time each of the Strawhats had come to see you. 

Luffy and Nami got a second attempt the day after the disaster. You found their dynamic amusing but Luffy’s boundless energy and extreme optimism that your memories would definitely return was exhausting. Thankfully Nami’s sterner approach to her Captain helped rein him in when his enthusiasm was clearly getting to be too much for you. Sanji began to stay a little longer between your meals and you found it slightly easier to talk to him since you were more familiar with him just as you were with Chopper. 

Usopp surprised you by telling about his friend back home who was sick often and relied on him for stories to distract her and keep her spirits high. He gave you the same treatment, telling you stories of the ‘great captain Usopp’ all of them over embellished and having nothing to do with you or your connection to the crew. Robin was quieter and for the first couple of visits didn’t speak much, merely bringing a couple books in case you wanted to read while she brought one for herself to pass the time when you weren’t in the mood for conversation. Thankfully she was similar to Usopp, not forcing the conversation of your past or prodding into your lack of memories. 

Franky and Brook unnerved you on your first meetings with them. A cyborg and a talking skeleton were huge things to have to absorb for anyone. You managed to force yourself to push through that adjustment. You kept telling yourself that you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this obscure crew for long. You’d overheard Nami mention an island coming up and that would be your chance at getting home. Your patience would be rewarded, you just had to hold out a little longer. 

For now though, your focus was on your lack of sleep this night. You weren’t in the mood to stay out on the deck so you climbed the extra set of steps and walked into the galley, not surprised to see it empty and quiet. Flicking on the light you approached the cabinets and let out a small laugh to see the prominent lock on the fridge. Chopper had told you Luffy liked to steal food and Sanji had taken precautions to keep him away. Since you weren’t exactly hungry and didn’t know the code, you turned and flicked the light off again. You were about to leave when you heard two voices coming from the mast leading to the Crow’s Nest. 

“You’re an even bigger dumbass than I originally thought, you know that?” It surprised you to hear Sanji speak so coldly. “What are you trying to prove by being the only person to not see them.”

“Keep you stupid face out of my business and stick to what you do know.” Ah that explained it, Zoro was the reason. 

“Look we’re not stupid…well most of us aren’t stupid.” Sanji growled out as though his less aggressive tone was causing him harm. He was desperately trying to get his rival to see sense but it was next to impossible. “We know they don’t know us anymore and it’s hard but we’re all still trying. Just because it’s not the same doesn’t mean we just throw it all away. Not when it’s possible we can create a friendship with them again.”

“Well if you want to try that then you go right ahead.” Zoro’s tone was sharp and dismissive. “The first chance they get, they’ll be gone. If they’d half their strength back they would have already tried to steal the Mini Merry by now.”

“I’m not disagreeing but can’t you at least-”

“Look I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again. Back off and leave me to deal with things on my own.” With nothing more to say Zoro stalked away to his room while Sanji let out a sigh and climbed the Crow’s Nest to start his watch.

Thankfully you managed to make it back to the medical quarters while Sanji’s back was turned to you. Silently you processed the conversation you’d unintentionally listened in on. There was no denying the sincerity and insistence in Sanji’s voice as he tried to convince Zoro to not distance himself. Zoro’s cold demeanour was something you couldn’t really decipher because you knew nothing about him. You knew nothing of these people apart from what they allowed you to see in your brief interactions. Sharply you sighed and sat on your bed, this wasn’t the plan. Trying to work out these people was a complication. Over and over you told yourself that home and only the home you remembered was your goal. 

You were certain you wouldn’t get any sleep now so you reached over and turned on your bedside lamp and looked at the small pile of books that had gathered. According to Robin these were your current favourites or at least they were before the knowledge of them were erased. Your eyes were drawn to one near the bottom. Its cracked spine showed it had been reread countless times so you reached out and lifted it. 

Blankly you studied the cover, not surprised but still disappointed that it gave you no emotional response, no familiarity or fondness to be holding it again. As you settled back in your bed you opened the book to the first page but your movement made something appear between the pages towards the end of the book. A small card had been used as a bookmark and curiously you pulled it out to inspect it. It was for your birthday and your eyes locked in on the short message beneath your name. “Love always, Zoro.”

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[therealdisneyfan2319]

To Be Loved | Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You help Natasha open up in your relationship

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (MINORS DNI), mild language

Word Count: 2.5K

Author's Note: This was a prompt from @wandashoeforlife because I needed Nat prompts and I don't write for her enough so that's gonna change here before too long. Enjoy!

“I still don’t understand why you think the blindfold is necessary,” Natasha pouted as you led her down the hallway.

“Because I don’t want to spoil the surprise for you.”

“Isn’t dinner enough?”

“No,” you replied, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand, still leading her carefully down the winding hallway of the compound.  Dinner was only the first part of your plan: the second part was yet to be revealed.  Your girlfriend had no idea what was coming, but you knew she’d be thoroughly surprised.

You hadn’t been dating all that long.  Really a majority of your relationship consisted of post-training hookups.  It was mainly physical, the two of you running off to some odd room or one of your apartments in order to relieve whatever stress you were dealing with.  Soon enough the physical turned into something a little more.  She was the one who caught feelings first.  Natasha, not knowing how to tell you how she really felt, pulled away.  It took Clint and Wanda practically dragging the two of you into a room and making you two talk things out before she reluctantly admitted that she really liked you.  

The first time you really kissed her, it was everything everywhere all at once while simultaneously being the most intimate moment you ever experienced.  Intimacy didn’t come naturally to Nat.  She seemed almost uncomfortable with any sort of romantic display especially when it came to sex.  There was strikingly little difference between your post-mission trysts and evenings spent alone.  She wanted it the way she always wanted it: hard, fast, and rough.  Loud, passionate sex with Natasha was great, but any time you tried to slow it down she pulled you out of it.  Tonight, however, you wanted to give her the quintessential romantic lovemaking session.

“Is it a puppy?” she asked, stumbling over her feet as she blindly followed you.

“Nope,” you chuckled.

“Is it a kitten?”

“Guess again.”

“A parrot?”

“Nat, why on earth would I get you a parrot?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged.  “I have no idea what you got me.”

“Well yeah, that’s kinda the point of a surprise, babe.”  You reached for Natasha’s other hand, carefully guiding her around the corner and down the hall.  

“So why the surprise?  It’s not like it’s my birthday or anything,” she remarked.

“What, am I not allowed to surprise you?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“Of course I do.  You’re my girlfriend and I’m supposed to spoil you.  It’s in the official boyfriend handbook.”  You watched as Nat’s face blushed a bright pink, accentuated by the black eye mask you pulled over her eyes.  “Alright, and we’re here.”

“Where are we?” she asked.

“You’ll see in a second,” you smirked as you unlocked the door and gently coaxed her inside.  Outstretched arms stopped her before she could wander in too far.  “Okay, you can take off the mask now.”

Pulling down the mask, Natasha took in her surroundings for the first time: it was your room.  Dozens of tiny tea lights illuminated the space, casting dancing shadows on the wall.  Fake rose petals were strewn all over the bed in the most organized fashion you could muster.  Your music playlist was stacked with the most romantic jazz music you could get your hands on.  Her eyes widened in confusion as she saw all the work you’d done for her.

“What’s all this?” she asked, thoroughly confused at the scene in front of her.

“It’s the other part of your surprise.  A romantic evening in, just the two of us,” you explained.  

“I don’t deserve all this.”  Her words were barely audible as her voice dropped to a whisper.  They made your heart break a little as her face sank.

“Of course you do.”

“No I don’t.”  She shook her head as she pulled the mask off her forehead.  

“Nat, come on.  Why would you ever say that?”  You stepped forward to grab her, but she pulled away.

“I’ve never done anything to deserve this.”  Her stalwart facade cracked as she wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking down so much as she tried to disappear from the discomfort of the situation.  “I don’t even think I deserve you.”

“Natasha.  Will you, will you look at me?  Please?”  You coaxed her head up gently with your hand.  She refused to make eye contact with you even as her face tilted up towards you.  It was absolutely heartbreaking to see her like that.  You loved Natasha more than anything in the world.  Why couldn’t she accept that?  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I’m not a good person, Y/N.  I’ve done things and I’ve hurt people and…I don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

“Baby-”

“I don’t even know how to do this, whatever this is,” she admitted, motioning toward the rose-covered bed.

“You do realize none of that matters to me, right?  I don’t care what you’ve done.  I don’t care who you used to be.  For cryin’ out loud I literally just blew up a ship with dozens of people still inside on our last mission.  We’ve both done awful things, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve to be loved.  Let me love you tonight, Nat.”

“It’s hard,” she whispered as her eyes glistened in the candlelight.

“I know,” you whispered back, running your hands through her luscious red hair.  “It’s not your fault you’ve been hurt, but if we’re going to make this work then I need you to let me in, Natty.  Can you at least try to let me in?”

Natasha looked up at the ceiling, blinking back the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes.  “God, why does this have to be so hard?” she asked.

“Beats me,” you chuckled.  “This shit was hard enough before I became a superhero.  But I wanna make us work, so can you let me in just for tonight?  I can get rid of all this if you want, turn the lights back on if you want...”

“No.  Keep them off.  I like candlelight.  But that music has to go.”

“I spent three hours putting that playlist together,” you pouted.  Nat giggled, her hand trailing up to grasp yours that was on her neck.  

“This is why I control the radio in the car.”  You sighed, shaking your head as she teased you.  You brought your free hand up to the other side of her neck, taking a step toward her as you held her.

“Let me love you tonight, Nat.  Please?” you whispered against her lips.  She gulped, swallowing down the lump in her throat as you stared deeply into her emerald eyes.  

“Okay,” she whispered.  

Taking all the care in the world, you gently leaned down and pressed your lips to hers.  She practically melted into you, a deep blush spreading across her entire body.  A certain tenderness bound the two of you together in that moment.  It was like you were the only ones on earth.

Natasha had never allowed herself to feel such softness or tenderness before.  Deep insecurity stemmed from a childhood of abuse and a lifetime of trauma.  How could someone who had done such horrible things be worthy of something so beautiful?  You kissing her with all the love and care in the world was new and different and wonderful.  As your lips brushed against hers, she smiled at the new sensation of being adored.  It made you smile, too.  

Strong hands snaked down Natasha’s toned body, trailing over the curve of her toned ass and giving it a slight squeeze.  She giggled as your noses touched, the subtle taste of peppermint leaving your mouth tingling.  You pulled her close to you.  Her body sat flush against yours as her hands rested on your chest.  Natasha gazed up into your eyes while she nestled herself in your embrace.  As you gazed back down at her, there was a glimmer in her eye.  You couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement or desire.  Whatever it was, it hadn't been there before you kissed her.

“Can I carry you to bed?” you asked.  Natasha nodded, giggling as you bent down slightly to give yourself enough leverage to lift her up.  

“Don’t fall.” 

“I’ve got you, baby,” you reassured as you gently placed her on the bed.  The weight of her body in the middle of the bed completely messed up your meticulously arranged flower petals.  Neither of you seemed to care all that much as you crawled on top of her.  

A sense of nervous giddiness washed over you as your lips met tentatively.  The improvised dance between your mouth and hers was one that had been done a thousand times before.  This one was different.  This one was a first meeting, the first dance between two souls destined for something much bigger than the two of them could imagine in the present moment.  This slow, hesitant dance soon turned into a familiar exploration of each other’s mouths with your tongues.  Hands soon followed, tugging and pulling at clothes until all of your garments were in a jumbled pile on the floor along with half of the rose petals. 

Natasha’s arms were wrapped around your back, pulling you down into her as you ground your pelvis into hers.  Your erection was throbbing from the stimulation.  She rolled her hips up at the contact, whimpering as wetness pooled between her legs.  You could feel your heart pounding in your throat at the anticipation of pushing yourself inside her.  

“You ready?” you asked.  Natasha nodded, her lower lip in her teeth as her face flushed with arousal.  “Here.”  You reached for her hand, guiding it down to where your cock was nestled between your bodies.  Placing your hand over hers, you gently closed her hand around your length and pushed it down to the heat between her legs.  She stifled a moan as you drew your tip up and down her slit, thoroughly coating it in her juices.  

The two of you let out a simultaneous groan as you slid your penis inside her.  Her hole stretched to accommodate your girth, a tight fit as you filled her to the brim.

“Fuck,” Natasha whimpered as she adjusted to the fullness inside her.  You watched her face contort in pleasure through the candlelight.  The sight of her so overcome with pleasure ignited a carnal desire inside you, but you consciously reminded yourself that this was about more than just sex.  This was about showing your girlfriend how much you loved her.  

As Natasha relaxed around you, you slowly began to rock your hips in and out of her.  Her walls coated you in a sheen of slick with each thrust.  The pace you set was slow and deliberate, pulling your cock almost all the way out before burying yourself to the hilt.  She wrapped her arms and legs around you and pulled you flush against her body.  The two of you were coated in a glistening layer of sweat as you rocked your hips in tandem.  You buried your head in her neck, kissing the exposed skin in a futile effort to stifle your moans.

The room around you was quiet as you continued your lovemaking.  Natasha held you close, whimpering and gasping as her wetness echoed throughout the room.  Her fingers tangled in your hair as you left love bites up and down her neck.  The purple bruises that peppered her sensitive skin were barely visible against the faint glow of the candlelight that flickered against the walls.  You found it harder to stay quiet the longer you pumped yourself inside her.  Nat’s walls fluttered and squeezed around your cock, the tightness keeping you buried in her cunt.  Gripping the sheets with white knuckles, your lips hovered over hers as you slowed your thrusts further, relishing in the feeling of her soft, warm walls squeezing your length.

You watched as the veins in your girlfriend’s neck strained as she arched her head back against the pillow.  Your ungodly slow pace was driving her absolutely insane.  Every subtle movement inside of her sent throbbing waves of pleasure throughout her entire body.  As your head hovered over hers, lips a whisper apart, her face contorted in pleasure as you pulled out and pushed back in.  Natasha’s eyes screwed shut and her mouth gaped open as she gasped.  It took all your determination to not buck your hips wildly into her.  The heat spreading under your skin so quickly meant you didn’t have much time left.  

Resting your forehead against hers, your breath coming in shaky pants, you slowed your pace even further and increased your force, slowly pulling your penis out of her tight grip before forcing it back in.  The sound of slapping flesh joined the quiet gasps and moans echoing off the walls, your hips smacking together while your balls swung wildly behind you, stopping only when they hit Natasha’s red, swollen cunt.  

As the pressure built inside you, Natasha unwrapped one of her arms from your back and reached up over her head in search of your hand that was white knuckling the sheets.  Her fingers interlaced with yours.  The two of you squeezed each other’s hand as your pace quickened ever so slightly, your cock pounding in and out of her tortured hole.  She stared up at you with wide eyes, her mouth agape as her own orgasm grew within her core.  

The coil in your stomach tightened to a precipice.  There was no stopping it.  Your nose bumped hers as short, airy gasps escaped your mouth.  Bearing down with one final hard thrust, you emptied yourself inside of her as your entire body convulsed with overwhelming ecstasy.  The feeling of your seed inside her aching core and the pulsing of your length against her walls drove Natasha to her own orgasm.  She moaned against your lips as her walls clenched rhythmically around you.  You groaned, collapsing into her shoulder as she milked your already sensitive member.  

Your thrusts came to a gentle stop as you finished filling her to the brim.  It was all you could do to lie there and not crush her while you struggled to return your breathing to its normal state.  You felt a hand come up and rest in your hair.

“Are you okay?” Natasha whispered as she gently tugged at your sweaty, matted locks.  

“Yeah,” you mumbled into the crook of her neck.  You turned your head to look at her.  Her lips were swollen and her face was flushed, her long red hair tousled from being flattened against the pillow.  “You?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded, biting her lower lip.  

“I love you,” you whispered, tilting your head to kiss her softly.  “I love you so much, Nat.  I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t.  Because I do.”  She smiled at your words, fully melting into the sense of safety and love you provided.  For the first time in her life, Natasha felt safe and loved.  It was all you could do but hope that this would be the start of something new, something special, between the two of you.

[tired-biscuit]

I just saw your drabble about kiba’s family smelling the fuck on you……what about baby fever Kiba that can smell you ovulating and you don’t know what’s gotten into him

the way you got me kicking my feet into the air with this ask, omg!! <3

18+ mdni, fem!reader / cw: breeding

i think he'd have the urge to breed you and knock you up pretty early in the relationship, like right from the very start. better yet, even if you're nothing but friends and he secretly fancies you, he's still thinking about it, considering it even, because he can smell whenever you're in your "child bearing prime" whether he wants to or not, and it's literally driving him fucking insane.

but being the respectful man that he is, bless him and his mother, he knows that it's not usually the way these things go; that social norms say that partners should probably get to know each other a little bit better and grow closer before starting families.

so he takes it down a notch when you become his girlfriend. of course he does.

i mean, he doesn't want to scare you away by forcing you to get so serious with him so soon, so what else can he do than tuck away that animalistic side of him - the one that's a pretty common trait to have in his clan - and say that he's completely fine with going super slow, that he's a-okay with using protection? hell, he even goes as far as to pretend that the sweet change in your scent which your ovulation causes doesn't faze him every month, even if it makes his goddamn skin feel like it's on fire.

and sure, he enjoys getting to know you better, settling down with you slowly and taking it easy, but the urge to fuck his kids into you just won't go away. it grows peskier and peskier with each passing week, month, year. it's in his blood after all, he can't possibly do anything about it; it's just the way he's programmed.

so i think - despite the precautions - he'd sort of loosen up and start hinting at it pretty early, after like a year or so. it'd start off innocent enough, like he'd just be talking about your future and stuff like that. but then your cycle comes to the ovulation part again, and all of a sudden he doesn't mind showing how it affects him as well. how clingy it makes him. how touchy he gets during it. how needy.

he follows you around the house during those days and constantly keeps you close. fucks you way more often. develops a daddy kink (or finally allows you to see it, who knows) and makes sex last longer; his dick buried so deep inside of you that you feel like you're going to fucking burst because of the mating press he insists holding you in despite that you aren't even mating technically (sadly) because of the condom that you make him wear.

he does admit at some point that the scent attracts him after you start questioning his sudden change in behaviour. he even tells you that he's grown so comfortable around you by now that he can't bother to hide it anymore. and well, it makes sense for him and his abilities, so you're not all that surprised when he's brushing against you in the kitchen when you're all hormonal once again next month; feeling his hands as he slowly drags them up and down your sides, while the bulge in his sweatpants presses against your ass in a way that makes heat pool between your legs.

however, something is different this time around. he doesn't stop tugging at your leggings when you remind him that he should go grab a rubber if he plans to fuck you on the kitchen counter. no, instead of running to the bedroom like he normally does, he just pushes his hips further into your own, and tells you that perhaps he wants to fuck you right here and now. that he's positive that you'd like it; that he knows you oh, just so well.

"c'mon," he says. "what's a lil' risk, mm?"

and you giggle at that, a faint blush searing your face because you think he's just joking, that he's just messing around with you like he has a habit of doing, but he still isn't moving. he just rests his chin against your shoulder, his sensitive nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, as he sighs and tells you again how good you smell right at that moment. how sweet the scent is. how appealing it is.

and then one thing leads to another because you're hormonal and needy too, even more than he is if that is even possible. your panties are literally constantly soaked and your poor pussy needs to be taken care of, he knows it, so it's not even shocking that he manages to bend you over the counter and fuck the shit out of you completely raw as your toes curl in your little fuzzy socks and your eyes squeeze shut because of the realisation; because of the risk.

so you tell him, through broken moans and quick gasps, that he's not allowed to cum inside and that this is the only time you're risking it like this. and he agrees. he pulls out the last second - hesitantly, yes, but he does - and cums on your lower back instead, trying to ignore the way he felt your tight hole fluttering with intention to milk him dry.

and that's that.

well, for the most part.

because ever since then, you're getting raw-dogged every other night and are literally begging him to fill you up during your dazed state, because, well, it feels so good. because it's so fucking good and rewarding to see him be so into it; to be so into you. he's been passionate before, but this is on an entirely different level.

he's literally whispering the dirtiest shit into your ear as he breeds you, all focused and with eyes so fierce that they could burn holes through you. is telling you how good your pussy feels when it's soaking wet like this, that he can smell how urgently it needs him, and that he's just so fucking happy that he gets to experience it entirely at long last.

he's even calling you his pretty mate, how proud he is of you, how you're such a good girl for being willing to take his load, how he wants you to make him a daddy and to let him fill you up over and over again, until you're leaking his cum and are pregnant with his babies because he wants you, and he wants to have a family with you, and he just wants and wants and wants.

he's been wanting for all this time. a year and a couple of months of waiting may not seem like a long time for some, but for a man like him, it could have been considered as absolute torture.

so you suppose it's understandable why he turns sort of delirious when he at long last gets to fuck your pretty little cunt completely raw and spill everything he's got right into it. right to the very last drop, he'll even bend your legs flush against your chest just so that he can make sure his seed sticks.

it's just pure instinct. it's who he is.

and it makes him simply overjoyed that you finally understand.